There's Something About Lady Mary Read Online Free

and I might one day be friends, and all my friends call me Ryan. I know it’s unconventional, but I insist upon it.
    “One brief conversation on a terrace—as entertaining as it might be—is hardly enough to merit a courtship, you know. Trust me, you mustn’t worry yourself about that.”
    “Oh,” Mary muttered, feeling quite embarrassed and perhaps even a little disappointed. “I am terribly sorry, I—”
    “No need to apologize. The truth of the matter is that I have very much enjoyed talking to you and that I hope to see you again one day. After all, it seems to me that we have at least one thing in common.”
    “And what might that be?” Mary asked, relaxing now that the threat of Mr. Summersby’s advances had been removed.
    “I believe that we both abhor these sorts of events and that we both decided to come out here to get away from it all.”
    “I was actually rather looking forward to it,” Mary admitted. “Though I must say that it is not at all what I had expected.”
    “And what did you expect?” Mr. Summersby asked, moving up beside her.
    “That people would be nicer,” she said simply, staring off into the garden, where lanterns flickered close to the ground, illuminating the pathways.
    Mr. Summersby chuckled. “They can be quite rude, can’t they?”
    “Surprisingly so.”
    “And because of that, you were wondering if you might be able to make the jump?”
    “The jump?”
    “Over the garden wall,” he said, his voice was quite serious. “Though I do not imagine that you would get far, judging from your height.”
    “And what, pray tell, is wrong with my height?” she asked, vexed that he’d seen right through her, and even more annoyed that he’d touched on the greatest flaw in her plan.
    “Nothing at all,” he muttered. He was quiet for a moment before saying, “I can give you a foot up if you like.”
    Mary turned her head to stare at him. She expected him to be grinning from ear to ear, yet he just stood there with a rather solemn expression on his face, as if he were contemplating how high he would have to lift her. “However, I would much prefer it if you would remain here, since I should detest to be left alone.”
    “And why is that?” Mary asked, turning toward him and placing both hands on her hips.
    “Because the minute that I am not otherwise occupied, one of the anxious mamas in there will drag her unmarried daughter before me like a prize cow. I shall have no choice but to endure an account of all the daughter’s very fine attributes, and I shall have to do so with a smile upon my face.”
    He was so grave that Mary couldn’t help but pity him. Still, it was difficult not to laugh at the image he’d managed to conjure in her mind. “Sounds awful,” she said, making a stoic attempt at holding back the giggles that were cramming together in her throat.
    He frowned. “Yes, I can clearly see that you think it is.”
    “Sorry,” she gasped as the first roll of laughter escaped her. There was nothing she could do about it, and before she knew it, she was grinning like a complete lunatic—far too exaggeratedly to merit the humor in what he had said.
    “Dear me,” she remarked, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “You must forgive me. I am generally not at all like this.”
    “And yet I would hope that you are,” Mr. Summersby told her. “The ladies of the ton do not generally engage in laughter, you see, and when they do, it is somewhat forced—no real joy lies behind it.”
    “Hm. . .I see,” Mary said, her forehead creasing ever so slightly. “By the way, how long do you suppose we can remain out here before it is considered rude or, even worse, inappropriate?”
    “I believe ten minutes might be acceptable.”
    “Then I think I must consider venturing back inside, for it must surely have been twenty by now, and I should hate for my hosts to think that I am not enjoying myself.”
    “You are not,” Mr. Summersby pointed out.
    “No,