Despite the gossip, the lady's men insisted they only wanted to protect her honor.

At low tide she discovered a delicate lady's comb nestled among the seaweed and held it up to the light.

After the rain, the garden beds were crowded with lady's thumb, and I spent hours pulling the invasive plants by hand.

In late summer the old garden was draped in lady's bower, its fragrant white blossoms spilling over the wooden trellis.

She paused to examine a single lady's smock growing by the stream.

Along the windswept cliffs, a dense tuft of lady's cushion clung stubbornly to the stone.

In the shaded meadow, a clump of lady's seal nodded gently in the breeze.

The botanist carefully documented the spread of lady's bedstraw along the roadside hedgerow.

A cluster of lady's hair swayed in the breeze along the meadow path.

The lady's laces climbed the trellis, their delicate tendrils searching for new holds.