There's Something About Lady Mary by Sophie Barnes Page B

as she continued to gaze about in wonder.
    “Come,” Lady Trenton told her gently, taking her by the arm and leading her farther into the shop, while Mr. Summersby followed behind in their wake. “Let’s start by looking over here.”
    It took Mary all of fifteen minutes to decide upon a light blue silk and an overlay of lace that met the approval of both the countess and Mr. Summersby. Once this was done, she and Lady Trenton were rapidly swept through to a private sitting room, where the modiste handed them each a large pile of fashion plates.
    “Take your time, ladies,” Mr. Summersby told them with a smile as he put on his hat. “I am just going to run a quick errand.”
    As soon as he had left, Mary and Lady Trenton settled to their task and began leafing through the fashion plates. “I know it seems daunting,” the countess said, “but after a while, you decide on the styles that you like, and then it goes much quicker.”
    “I don’t have the faintest idea of what sort of gown might suit me.” Mary shook her head, completely overwhelmed by the task at hand. “I never imagined that there might be so many ways in which to fashion a gown.”
    Lady Trenton grinned. “I know precisely how you feel. A little over a year ago I owned only two dresses, and I certainly didn’t have much interest in what they looked like. They were more of a requirement than anything else.”
    Mary raised her eyes and looked at her as if she were speaking a foreign language. “I don’t understand; you are so fashionable and elegant.”
    “That was not the case before my husband came along, you know. In fact, I have always favored a white shirt and a pair of breeches to the restraining garments that women are encouraged to wear. Not only were they more practical in a swordfight—after all, long gowns do have a tendency to get in the way—but they were just so much more comfortable.
    “However, when I met Ashford, and I wanted to draw his attention—you know, open his eyes a little to the feminine side of me—well, let’s just say that there’s much to be said for a bit of lace and a low décolletage.”
    Mary looked at Lady Trenton in dumbfounded dismay. “You know how to handle a sword?”
    “Indeed, I do. And pistols too, if you must know.”
    “But how did you learn?” She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “I mean, it is completely unheard of for a woman to engage in such things—is it not?”
    Lady Trenton looked up from the fashion plate she was presently admiring and fixed Mary with a meaningful look. “Not more so than it is for a woman to practice surgery, Lady Steepleton.”
    If Mary was the fainting sort, she would have done so that very instant. Had she heard right, or were her ears deceiving her? Whatever the case, she could barely breathe as she sat there clutching the fashion plates so tightly in her hands that her knuckles had begun to turn white.
    “It’s all right,” Lady Trenton assured her as she casually pointed to an illustration of an exquisite gown. “Your secret is safe with me. In fact, I quite admire your efforts. You are a very brave woman, Lady Steepleton.”
    “H. . .how did you know?” Mary practically choked on the words as they came out of her mouth. She felt feverish; her whole body was trembling.
    “Well, it didn’t take me too long to figure it out. You see, about a year ago, when my brothers and I were passing through Ghent on our way back to England, I stumbled into a young woman at the inn where we were staying. She was looking for her father at the time, and although I failed to notice, my brother William later remarked on how odd it was that she was wearing a surgeon’s badge on her arm. When Ryan mentioned that your father was a surgeon and that he was killed at Waterloo, I thought perhaps you might be the same woman I met in Ghent. Of course, I couldn’t be certain until I saw you in person, but once I did, there really was no mistaking