There's Something About Lady Mary (22 page)

“Something had to be done to knock some genuine fear into that woman, to make her understand how serious of a matter this is.”

“And you thought that threatening her at the Hunterian was the way to go about it? All you have done is make her more aware of the importance of her father’s journals in all of this. Don’t you see? She will be much more possessive of them now than she ever was before. Honestly, I cannot begin to imagine what you must have been thinking.”

“What I was thinking is that the longer she holds onto them, the greater the risk of us all ending up at the end of a rope.”

“I promise you that it will not come to that,” the Raven remarked. “And if you would have exercised just a little patience, we might have been able to resolve this differently and without anyone’s getting hurt. However, you have forced my hand with your foolishness. I am sending the Messenger tomorrow. He will retrieve the journals and, if need be, will deal with her just as he dealt with her father.”

“You mean. . .?”

The Raven raised a mocking eyebrow. “What? Don’t tell me that you don’t have the stomach for sending the lovely young marchioness to an early grave.” The other man stared back in horror. “Better her than us. Is that not so?”

“I only meant to frighten her.”

“I understand.” The Raven smiled sardonically. “And if she is fortunate, then perhaps that is all that will happen to her. But I should warn you about getting cold feet, my friend—unless, of course, you intend for them to stay cold, if you understand my meaning.”

The other man had begun to tremble ever so slightly, but it was enough for the Raven to take notice. He couldn’t be happier; after all, fear could be a most powerful weapon. His eyes gleamed with pleasure as the man before him nodded, stammering an almost incoherent apology. “Now, be off with you,” the Raven said, dismissing the coward with an air of bored superiority. “You have caused enough trouble already to make my head spin.”

“C
are to join me for a morning ride?” Alexandra asked Mary as she wandered into the breakfast room, where Mary was enjoying her morning tea together with Cassandra and Isabella.

Mary looked up and almost choked at the sight of her friend brazenly standing there in the doorway, dressed in her snug breeches and loose-fitting shirt, her riding crop held firmly in her hand. “I. . .er. . .” She nodded slowly. “Yes, I think I should like that a great deal, actually.”

“Good. I have an extra pair of breeches that you can borrow if you like.”

Mary blushed all the way to the roots of her hair. “I must admit that I did bring my own pair—just in case.”

“Wonderful!” Alexandra exclaimed. “Hurry up and get changed so we can be off. The weather is quite good at the moment, but who knows how long it will last.”

Mary cast a glance at Cassandra and Isabella before turning back to Alexandra. “But won’t. . .I mean, what will everyone think if I. . .Oh dear.”

Alexandra grinned. “Nobody around here will care one way or the other about your choice in clothes; they have all been subjected to me for so long now that I think their sensibilities will withstand your antics as well. Is that not so, Isabella?”

The duchess, who’d been following the conversation with keen interest, smiled brightly. “Certainly, my dear. In fact, if I were a few years younger, I would not mind joining in the fun.”

Cassandra’s head snapped around to stare at her mother with a great deal of surprise. “Really?”

“Oh, yes,” Isabella said. “I may look the part of a well-bred lady, but in my youth I was just as unruly as Alexandra.”

“Oh, you must tell me all about it, Mama,” Cassandra gushed with great enthusiasm.

Completely forgotten by the duchess and her daughter, Mary turned to Alexandra. “Give me fifteen minutes to ready myself,” she said.

Alexandra nodded. “I will ask the grooms to saddle our horses in the meantime. Meet me by the stables?”

Mary quickly agreed before hurrying off upstairs to get changed. Turning a sharp corner at the top of the landing, she practically collided with Ryan, who was just then leaving his room. “Oh, I do beg your pardon,” she gasped after skidding to a sudden halt.

“No need,” Ryan said with a grin, moving swiftly out of her way. “I was actually coming to look for you. I thought perhaps you might like to go for a walk since the weather appears to have improved a bit.”

“Thank you, but I have just agreed to go for a ride with your sister.” She paused for a moment while he looked back at her somewhat expectantly. She’d been looking forward to getting away from him for a little while—heaven knew he had a knack for confusing her mind, which she otherwise prided herself on being quite sound. But now it seemed as though it would be terribly rude of her not to suggest that he come along. Deigning a most ladylike facade, she said, “You are welcome to join us, if you like.”

“What an excellent idea.” There was a cheekiness to the immediate smile that graced his lips, and it made her question whether or not she’d made the right decision. “Perhaps I should ask William to come along too. It has been a long time since the three of us have raced one another.”

“Well, then you had better hurry,” she told him as she slipped past him on the way to her own room. “I told Alexandra that I would meet her by the stables in fifteen minutes, and that was already five minutes ago. Now, if you will please excuse me, I really must get ready.”

Having practically torn off her gown and left it in a heap on the bed for the maid to deal with later, Mary threw on her shirt, breeches, and Hessians before grabbing her jacket on her way out the door. As she made her way toward the stables with long, brisk steps, she adjusted her shirt, which in her rush to be punctual, she’d neglected to tuck in completely.

Rounding the corner of the house, she caught sight of two grooms holding the reins of four magnificent horses. Alexandra and her brothers, who were in the middle of some sort of animated discussion, all turned to stare at her as she strode toward them.

“Well, you certainly do look sharp,” Alexandra remarked. She nudged Ryan in the ribs. “Don’t you agree?”

Ryan did his best to stop his eyes from straying to the perfect outline of Mary’s thighs that her snug breeches offered. Instead he concentrated himself on her face. “I. . .I actually quite liked the way Lady Steepleton looked in a gown,” he confessed, adding a note of disapproval that he hoped would sound convincing. It would have been a plausible statement if it weren’t for the fact that his cheeks had turned bright red.

“Is that so?” Alexandra asked wryly. “Michael always said the same thing to me, yet there was no disputing the fact that he always loved the look of my backside in a pair of breeches.”

“Alex,” William cut in. “That is quite enough of that; there is no need to be vulgar.”

“I had no idea that it was,” she muttered, casting a quick glance over her shoulder to study her own rear end.

Mary choked back a laugh, while Ryan felt about ready to expire from their sister’s lack of decent behavior. William appeared to fare no better. “Still the feisty hoyden that you always were,” he muttered critically.

“Oh, William,” Alexandra continued on a sigh. “Haven’t you realized yet that I merely enjoy watching you suffer? It is such fun.”

William glowered as he turned toward his horse, placed his foot in the stirrup, and swung himself up into the saddle.

Alexandra merely grinned while Ryan hid a smile. He knew she enjoyed scandalizing him and William. “Shall we get going?” she asked, grasping the reins of her own horse. “Mary, you can take the brown mare over there. Walk her for a bit so you get a feel for her, see if you like her.”

As soon as Mary was out of earshot, Alexandra turned to Ryan with a crooked smile. “You have to admit,” she whispered, “that your marchioness certainly has an exquisite figure.”

Ryan coughed to mask his embarrassment. For a man who wasn’t prone to blushing, he could scarcely believe how often he’d been doing so lately. And he hated being put on the spot, especially by Alexandra’s outrageous remarks. “I scarcely noticed,” he told her as he took the reins that the groom handed to him.

“The hell you didn’t,” Alexandra chuckled as she swung herself up into the saddle of a gray stallion. “Your jaw practically hit the ground when you saw her coming.”

“She is right, you know,” William muttered. He’d come up alongside Alexandra and had caught the last bit of her previous comment. “You can continue on toward that gate over there,” he called to Mary. “We will be along in just a second.”

Ryan simply raked his fingers through his hair in frustration. “If you as much as—”

“Easy does it,” Alexandra told him blithely. “We are both on your side, aren’t we, William?”

William nodded with great conviction before turning his horse about and heading after Mary.

“There, you see?” Alexandra reassured him. “You have absolutely nothing to worry about.” And with that, she rode off after the others, while Ryan was left to wonder how Michael had ever managed to handle his sister. Clearly, the man was a genius.

“W
e are going to race from here on back,” Ryan told Mary when they arrived at the remains of an old farmhouse. “It is about five miles or so. If you would like, you can ride back at a slower pace.”

Mary looked as though he’d just punched her in the face. “Have you learned nothing about me over these past few weeks?” she asked. “I do everything to the best of my abilities. I despise failure, especially in myself. So if there is to be a race, then I am not only going to participate; I am also going to do my damnedest to win it.”

“Good Lord! They
are
two of a kind,” William exclaimed. “Where the devil do these women come from?”

“Well, as a recent mother of one child, William, I should be more than delighted to explain that little mystery to you anytime you like,” Alexandra replied coyly.

“I shall get you for that!” William yelled, kicking his horse into a gallop and taking off at a maddening pace that sent dirt flying in all directions. The rest of them followed quickly behind him, racing with the wind beating against their faces until they could barely see where they were going.

Mary had taken the rear, but the minute she spotted Whickham Hall in the distance, she urged her mare forward, dashing ahead of both Ryan and William until she was neck and neck with Alexandra. The two women grinned victoriously at one another as they closed the space between them, barring the men from passing with too much ease.

They were just coming over a rise in the meadow when a flash of movement off to the left caught Mary’s attention. She tilted her head to look. It almost seemed as though someone were thrashing about in. . .
was that a lake
?

Without a moment’s hesitation, she abandoned the race and veered off to the side. The closer she got, the clearer the scene before her became. A young boy was flailing about in the water, while his friend looked on in horror from the embankment. He turned when he heard Mary’s approach.

“Help him!” the boy yelled with fear in his voice. “He can’t swim, and I—”

“How long has he been in there?” Mary asked, leaping from the saddle before her mare had come to a complete stop.

“I’m not sure,” the boy muttered, shaking his head in despair. “Enough to know he won’t be capable of treading water for much longer.”

“Hold this,” Mary told him firmly as she handed him the reins as well as her jacket. She stepped out of her boots and before considering how cold the water was likely to be, she dove in and began swimming as though hell were on her heels.

Ryan and William arrived at the scene shortly after Mary since they’d both been alarmed by her sudden change in direction. Alexandra, on the other hand, had been forced to turn back when she discovered that she’d lost all of her competitors. Ryan had immediately waded out into the water to help Mary get back to the shore, while William stood waiting to help at the very edge of the embankment.

With even strokes, Mary reached Ryan. She was dragging the limp body of a twelve-year-old boy behind her, while she herself gasped for breath. Together, they made it back to the shore, their feet struggling with the muddy lakebed as they went. “Put him on his back,” Mary wheezed as William scooped the slight figure up into his arms. Exhausted from her efforts, she grabbed onto Ryan for support. “Make sure his head is lower than his body, if you can.”

By the time Mary and Ryan scrambled out of the water together, William had already laid the boy on the embankment, just as Mary had told him to do. Mary rushed to the boy’s side and felt for his pulse. There was still a small flutter, but they had to hurry if they wanted to save him. Mary turned a steady gaze on Ryan. “Do you want to save this boy’s life?” she asked.

“I. . .I think it might be best if you—”

“Do you want to be a physician, yes or no?” she demanded. “And tell me quickly before we run out of time.”

“Yes,” he told her immediately.

“Then stop dallying and get over here,” she said. “Be quick about it, or he will most assuredly die.”

Ryan didn’t need to be told twice. He got down on his knees across from Mary so that the boy was lying between them.

“Handkerchief?” Mary asked.

William thrust one into her outstretched hand. She tilted the boy’s head backward, opened his mouth, and placed the handkerchief over it. “Now, lean forward and breathe into his mouth,” she told Ryan.

He looked as if he might protest, but the firm look on Mary’s face had him following her command in a second. He took a deep breath and exhaled it into the boy’s mouth.

“Now press down here,” she said, pointing to the boy’s chest.

Ryan did as she asked, but nothing seemed to happen.

“Keep at it,” she told him sharply. “You must not stop. Repeat the process. Come on Ryan, you can do it.”

After three more attempts, the boy finally moved. It appeared as though he were choking at first until he suddenly began coughing up water, sputtering and gasping for air.

“Come on, let’s sit him up,” Mary suggested. She looked at Ryan and smiled. “That was very nicely done, Dr. Summersby.”