There's Something About Lady Mary

by Sophie Barnes

  Her eyes met Mr. Summersby’s. “I promise,” she told him. “But in return, you have to give me your word of honor that you will help me find whoever did this and bring him to justice.”

  He gave her his word without hesitation. “As I see it, you’ll never be completely safe until this man is found.” He suddenly frowned and looked at her far too intensely for her liking. “I feel that there’s something you’re not telling me. What is it?” he asked.

  She couldn’t lie to him. “Somebody broke into my house a few nights ago and stole the first volume of my father’s journals,” she told him hesitantly.

  Anger sprang to life behind his eyes. “Did you happen to see who it was?”

  She shook her head. “No,” she said. “I only caught the glimpse of a fleeting shadow. But it was enough to make me understand that I must not dismiss these threats. It seems that they are quite serious. The fact is that I do not have very many people I can turn to for help, so I went to your sister. I have been staying with her ever since.”

  “So that is why you were never able to receive me,” Mr. Summersby muttered. “You were staying with Alex all along.”

  “Yes, she has been very kind to me. I have told her everything—more than I have told you, in fact.” Mary took a deep breath. This was it, the moment of truth. “You see, you don’t know me very well at all. I have done some things that I am quite sure that you would never approve of. I believe not only will you be terribly shocked, but it may alter your opinion of me forever.”

  Mr. Summersby stared at her quizzically. “Whatever it is, my lady, I am certain that it is not as bad as you think. These things never are, and I assure you, there is nothing you can possibly tell me that might alter my opinion of you.” As if to prove his point, he pulled her closer, wrapped her in a tight embrace, and kissed her with enough passion and desperation to make her whole body melt with pleasure.

  As it happened, it was at this precise moment that Lady Glendale ordered her footmen to open the doors to the game room, the exact same room where Mr. Summersby had taken Mary for their private chat. Needless to say, an immediate hush fell over the entire ballroom at the sight of him standing there kissing the Marchioness of Steepleton in full view of the entire ton.

  Turning her head, Mary gasped, horrified by all the shocked faces that were presently staring back at her in disbelief. What to do? They couldn’t very well deny what had happened; that would be absurd.

  One thing was for certain: she wanted to run from the room as fast as her feet could carry her and never, ever look back. This was precisely the sort of thing that would make the headlines in every gossip column. Oh, she could see it now, all the people whispering about her disgraceful behavior every time she stepped out in public. It was without question the most mortifying experience of her life.

  She looked to Mr. Summersby, who suddenly appeared rather determined, as if he were planning either to flee or to face full-on battle. A scandal of monumental proportions was about to erupt, so if there was even the slightest chance of them leaving the Glendale ball that evening with their reputations intact, she hoped he’d come up with a way to make it happen—soon. He looked at her for one brief second and squeezed her hand. “Have courage,” he whispered. “And follow my lead, wherever it takes us.”

  He then stepped forward. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he said, “since you have practically found us out already, I see no reason for any of us to wait for a formal announcement in the paper. As it happens, Lady Steepleton has just made me the happiest man in London by accepting my offer of marriage.”

  There was only a moment’s silence—the second or two that it took for the information to sink in—and then, all at once, the entire ballroom erupted into a roar of cheers and clapping.

  “Well, your engagement certainly came a little sooner than I had expected,” Alexandra remarked as she and Lord Moorland squeezed through the crowd to where Mr. Summersby and Mary were standing. “However, we all expected it to happen eventually. I must commend Cassandra for her astuteness, though; she was quite correct in predicting that the two of you would tie the knot this season. As for myself, I am absolutely thrilled.”

  “Well done, Ryan!” Lord Moorland exclaimed. “I knew it would happen sooner or later. She is a keeper, this one; I couldn’t be happier for you.” He turned to Mary. “Welcome to the family, my dear.”

  “Oh, and Mary,” Alexandra continued, “I am certain that both Isabella and my father’s sister will be most delighted to assist you with all of the preparations.”

  Mary could scarcely believe what was happening. Had Mr. Summersby really just announced their engagement before the entire ton? It was unfathomable. He didn’t even know who it was he had just gotten engaged to. She felt ill at the prospect of having to tell him now when there was no longer any turning back. In a split second and without thinking, he’d sealed both of their fates with his recklessness.

  Damn!

  Why did he have to kiss her? It was infuriating, really, especially after he’d promised to restrain himself. Well, there was no point in agonizing over it now. But blast him if she wasn’t going to have a very thorough chat with him once they managed to find a moment to themselves. An apology was the very least she would expect from him. For now, however, she simply pasted a smile on her face and thanked Lord Moorland for his kindness. If only she could get out of there as quickly as possible. Some fresh air was bound to do her a world of good.

  “Mr. Summersby!”

  Mary froze at the sound of Lady Stephanie’s silky voice drifting toward them. If she’d been as keen on snagging Mr. Summersby as Alexandra had suggested, then what could she possibly have to say to them now? An eerie sense of uneasiness crept slowly up Mary’s spine.

  “Ah, Lady Stephanie,” Mr. Summersby remarked in a dry tone that showed very little emotion. “So good to see you again.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Summersby, you are most kind. I heard your little announcement and decided that I simply must come over to congratulate both of you.” She cast a brief, disapproving glance in Mary’s direction. “And I brought someone with me. It seems that Lord Warwick could scarcely contain his enthusiasm to make the acquaintance of your future bride.”

  Mary’s attention went straight to the gentleman at Lady Stephanie’s side. There was anger and contempt in his eyes as he glared back at her, ignoring Mr. Summersby completely. Mary stiffened. This did not bode well.

  “Philip,” Mr. Summersby said, turning his attention on Lord Warwick, “it has certainly been a while. I don’t believe that we have seen one another since last season. How is your lovely family doing?”

  Lord Warwick’s gaze remained on Mary. “Emma and the children are doing quite well, though I cannot say the same for Mama.”

  “She is in pain again?” Mr. Summersby spoke with anguish, while Lord Moorland and Alexandra both looked very concerned.

  Mary shuddered with foreboding.

  “As you know, she has been for some time, but a few nights ago, she decided to take matters into her own hands without a word of warning to anyone.”

  “With her personality, that’s hardly surprising,” Lord Moorland muttered.

  “The most interesting part of all, however,” Lady Stephanie remarked in an annoyingly victorious voice, “is that Lady Steepleton can be found at the very center of this little intrigue.”

  Mr. Summersby looked confused. He turned to Mary, who was watching the scene unfold with sheer terror. He must have seen that something was amiss, for he leaned toward her with a frown. “What is it?” he whispered. But Mary couldn’t speak. Her life was falling apart, and she couldn’t say a single word to stop it from doing so. She hadn’t considered that the dowager might have a son who’d be appalled at the idea of his mother undergoing surgery at the hands of a woman. When she’d last seen Lady Warwick, they’d agreed that she’d only allow Mrs. Harper to tend to her so as not to alert any of the other servants. Yet somehow Lord Warwick had found her out. Catching
Lady Stephanie’s venomous gaze, she was convinced that she must have had something to do with it. Whatever the case, it was a disaster far worse than any she could have contemplated.

  “It appears that my mother underwent an unauthorized operation,” Lord Warwick added as he continued to glare at Mary. “I would like to know what you might know about the matter, Lady Steepleton.”

  Mary took a sharp breath. Her eyes flitted from Mr. Summersby, to Alexandra, to Lord Moorland, then to Lady Stephanie, who favored her with a triumphant smirk. So that was her big plan, to discredit her and ruin her before the people that she cared about? Well, she wouldn’t be called a liar as well, so there really wasn’t anything else to be done but to tell the truth. And as for Mr. Summersby. . .this wasn’t at all the way she’d planned on his finding out, but at least it would be done with before they headed up the aisle. Perhaps he’d even find a miraculous means by which to escape marrying her if that was what he desired to do once the truth was out.

  Straightening her spine and squaring her shoulders as if she were about to head off into battle, she turned a brazen stare on Lord Warwick. “Your mother came to me for help, my lord. She was in severe pain and asked me to do whatever I could in order to alleviate it.”

  Mary felt Mr. Summersby stiffen by her side. She dared not look at him for fear of what she might see. He must be truly horrified.

  “I have a good mind to press charges,” Lord Warwick said as a look of glee spread its way across Lady Stephanie’s face. It seemed that the woman could barely contain her enthusiasm. “In fact, having consulted other surgeons about the procedure in the past, I eventually deemed it far too dangerous for Mama to take such a risk. However, since the operation does appear to have been a success, and since Mama claims she’ll have my head if word about this gets out, I have decided to let the matter rest. Besides, we are soon to be related since Mama is your fiancé’s great-aunt.”

  Mary felt the blood drain from her face. Mr. Summersby was related to the dowager countess and to Lord Warwick? Heaven help her!

  Lord Warwick then turned to Lady Stephanie, whose venomous smile was rapidly fading. “I thank you for bringing this matter to my attention, Lady Stephanie. But in the future, I trust that you will speak of this to no one.”

  Lady Stephanie’s jaw dropped. “But. . .but. . .” She looked at him in desperation.

  “If you do, I shall not only deny every bit of it, but I shall also have you besmirched as the worst slanderer and liar that the ton has ever seen. Do I make myself clear?”

  Lady Stephanie’s eyes grew cold with anger. “Perfectly,” she ground out, making no attempt to hide her displeasure at this sudden turn of events. Turning sharply on her heel, she stalked off with an arrogant tilt to her chin.

  Once Lady Stephanie was out of sight, Lord Warwick turned to Ryan with a stony expression. “I shall take my leave of you. Do try to keep her ladyship under control; she’s your responsibility now.” And without further ado, he marched off at a brisk pace, no doubt in search of a large brandy.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  * * *

  It took a while for any of them to react to what had just happened, but eventually Mr. Summersby stirred, releasing his hold on Mary’s arm. “I am going to White’s,” he told his father decisively, dismissing Mary’s existence entirely. “Don’t wait up for me.”

  Mary clenched her jaw firmly shut, struggling to fight back the onset of tears that threatened to burst from her eyes at any moment. Mr. Summersby never as much as glanced in her direction as he walked off, not even bothering to say goodnight to his hosts.

  “Keep an eye on Lady Steepleton,” Alexandra told her father. “Find Michael and have him escort her safely back to my house. I am going after Ryan to knock some sense back into him.”

  Lord Moorland nodded. “Ay, the boy’s a bigger fool than I would have thought him to be if he discredits Lady Steepleton for her obvious success. It’s about time that somebody helped that poor woman; she’s suffered long enough.”

  Mary gaped at her soon-to-be father-in-law. “You heard what Lord Warwick said. I am an unlicensed surgeon, and as a woman, I daresay no court would be very forgiving of my actions if they were to become known.” She gave him a halfhearted smile. “I think it would be completely understandable if your son were to decide never to speak to me again.”

  Lord Moorland halted a pacing footman and picked two glasses of Champagne from his tray. He gave one to Mary. “My dear, I have been around long enough to know an honorable person when I see one, and you, Lady Steepleton, are indeed an honorable person. Not only did you disregard the risk to your own reputation, choosing instead to help a dear old woman in need, you also didn’t deny a single thing when you were confronted. Instead, you faced your persecutors head on, knowing full well what the risk would be. If that is not admirable, then I do not know what is.” Mary opened her mouth to say something, but Lord Moorland stopped her. “My dear woman, you are exactly the sort of wife my son needs, even if he is too preoccupied with his own anger right now to realize it. He will come around, though; I shall make damn sure of it. So don’t worry about it any further, and just enjoy your Champagne.”

  Well, there wasn’t much else she could do, she supposed, as she linked her arm with the one Lord Moorland offered her. After all, she couldn’t scream in frustration in the middle of Glendale House, which was what she really wanted to do. So instead she took a large gulp of Champagne and allowed Lord Moorland to lead her about as they began their search for Lord Trenton.

  “Ryan!” Alexandra yelled with complete disregard for how unladylike she might appear, racing down the steps of Glendale House in pursuit of her brother. Seeing the back of him disappear inside a carriage, she quickened her step and leaped in after him, landing on the opposite seat with a thump.

  Ryan glared at her. “What do you want?” he asked.

  “Don’t be a fool, Ryan,” Alexandra told him, ignoring his question. “You have treated Mary very badly, walking off the way you did after having just asked her to marry you.”

  Ryan pinned his sister with a deadpan stare. “I have treated her badly? Alex, she is the one who has been dishonest, leading a secret life—one that she clearly had no intention of ever telling me about.”

  “Are you quite sure about that, Ryan? Because as far as I know, she had every intention of telling you.”

  “You knew about this?” Ryan asked incredulously. Alexandra nodded. “Since when?”

  “Since I recalled seeing her once before. Do you remember the female surgeon William told you about? The one I practically knocked over in Ghent last year on our way back to England?”

  “That was Lady Steepleton?” Ryan asked in astonishment as he sank back against the seat of the carriage. Again, Alexandra nodded. “I don’t generally consider myself a stickler, but this is completely intolerable.”

  “Ryan, I think you are making a Cheltenham tragedy out of all of this. It may be true that you haven’t known her for very long, but listen to your gut instinct. Does she strike you as the sort of woman who would do what she has apparently been doing unless she knew what she was about? I hear her father was a very skilled surgeon. Do you really believe that he would have allowed his daughter to practice unless he was confident that she would do an excellent job?”

  “As if that matters,” he protested. “Even if she is the best surgeon in the world, it does not change the fact that she deliberately kept it from me, or that she is breaking the law in the process. The woman is no better than a common criminal.”

  Alexandra glared back at her brother. “How dare you talk about her like that! Honestly, Ryan, I realize that you are angry, but resorting to insults is surely beneath you. Why not look at it like this: she knows that what she is doing might land her in a world of trouble, yet she does it all the same because of her desire to help those in need. If anything, you ought to be proud of her, just as you have always been proud of me. And stop getting so angry about the fact that she ke
pt it from you. She only recently met you, Ryan. Did you really expect her to trust you with something of such immense importance after a few amicable conversations? One can hardly blame her for being cautious, especially after discovering that you were not exactly who you claimed to be either.”

  “I don’t know,” Ryan said with a sigh, shaking his head in frustration. “This is not at all what I bargained for: a wife who claims to be a surgeon. It is—”

  “It is what, Ryan?” Alexandra asked. “Unthinkable? Preposterous? Absurd?”

  “Yes!”

  “And what about me, Ryan? You never had an issue with the fact that I chose to wear breeches instead of a gown, or that I learned to fight with a sword.”

  “I have always admired you, Alex; you know that.”

  Alexandra smiled. “Well, I can assure you that Michael was not nearly as accepting of my behavior when we first met, and I can guarantee that most people would be quite appalled if they knew of all the things that I have been up to.” She paused for a moment. “If you care about Mary as much as I think you do, then I would strongly advise you to talk to her, give her a chance to explain herself to you. And don’t condemn her just because it is what society expects you to do. You are better than that, Ryan; I know you are. Think for yourself and make your own decision.”

  “I will consider it,” he assured her. “But for now I am going to White’s to have a drink in the hopes of clearing my head a bit. I will ask the driver to take you home after he drops me off.”

  “Lady Steepleton, a word if we may?”

  Mary turned her head to find Robert navigating his way through the crowd that filled the Glendale ballroom. He was accompanied by two other gentlemen. Mary smiled warmly in greeting. “How lovely to see you again, Lord Woodbridge.”

  Lord Moorland nodded politely at each of the men. “It has been a while since you and I have had a round of faro, old chap,” he told Robert. “If I am not mistaken, I made off with quite a bit of your blunt last time, and having recently looked over my expenses, I do believe that it is time for us to play again soon.”