Red Roses Mean Love (18 page)

He
desperately
wished he could take her and walk away without a thought, but he couldn't.

Turning his head, he stared at the
single yellow rose lying
on the small table next to his chair. He
picked up the
withered bloom, touching the petals with hesitant fingers.

Even with a killer after him, he somehow suspected he
was safer in
London
.

He really had to get away from here.

And the sooner the better.

Chapter 13

«
^
»

H
ayley entered the kitchen late the next morning. "Where is everyone?" she asked
Pierre
. She'd
spent a restless, sleep
less night, not dozing off until dawn. Now she
desperately
wanted some
coffee.

"Your sisters go with aunt, Weenston, and Grimsley to zee market,"
Pierre
answered, kneading dough. "Zee boys take Monsieur Barrettson fishing."

"Fishing?" Hayley asked, surprised.

Pierre
nodded. "They left after early breakfast."

After enjoying a quick cup of coffee, Hayley pilfered a piece of fresh bread and wandered into the study. The house was blessedly quiet, and if she could manage to keep her thoughts away from Stephen, she could probably get some writing done.

Closing the door behind her, she sat down at her desk and pulled her papers from the bottom drawer. She tried to concentrate, but her efforts proved fruitless. All she could think about was last night. She was torn between utter shame and incredulous wonder. The sensation of Stephen's hands on her, touching her, caressing her, was like nothing she'd ever experienced. She had not wanted him to stop, but he'd pulled away from her without an explanation. In fact, he'd
seemed upset with her. No doubt because of her shocking,
wanton behavior.

Hayley pondered that, and after nearly an hour of staring at a blank piece of paper, she was able to determine only two things.

One, she wanted Stephen Barrettson with an intensity
that shocked her.

And two, the only reason she was still a virgin this morning was because
he
had stopped last night. She'd wanted to continue, eager to explore and learn more about the incredible new feelings bombarding her.

She squeezed her eyes closed and shook her head. He was leaving in two weeks to take a job with a family that lived far away from Halstead. Her heart all but split in two at the thought.

She really had to stay away from him.

* * *

Justin Mallory sat in his private study, staring at the note he'd just opened. He reread the terse missive three times, his brows alternately furrowing and raising.

"You look very perplexed, darling,"
Victoria
said as she entered the room. Justin quickly tucked the note into his waistcoat pocket and smiled at his wife.

"Just a puzzling message from a business associate," Justin said smoothly. He rose and walked to
Victoria
, enfolding her petite body in his arms and dropping a light kiss on her smooth brow.

Until he'd met
Victoria
, Justin had thought himself quite the impervious bachelor. But he soon found himself done in by a mere wisp of a young woman with bright green eyes, dark brown hair, and a smile that could melt snowcaps in January.

"I was hoping to coax you into taking me to
Regent Street
,"
Victoria
said, leaning back in the circle of his arms. "I've been cooped up in this house for days."

"You could coax the stars from the sky, my sweet," Jus
tin murmured, kissing her upturned mouth. "I need a few
hours to take care of several things and then I shall be at your disposal."

"Thank you, darling."
Victoria
stood on tiptoe, brushed her lips against his jaw and left the room, closing the door softly behind her.

As soon as he was alone again, Justin retrieved the note
from his pocket and scanned it again. Along with a request for more clothing, Stephen was asking for some highly un
usual things. And he didn't even ask how Justin's investigation was going. Just a terse note demanding a list of strange
items he wanted delivered the day after tomorrow. Justin
chuckled to himself. He could hardly wait until he saw Stephen again so he could find out how his friend was doing at Albright Cottage.

If Stephen's list of required items was any indication, his visit was proving most unusual.

Now if Justin could only figure out how to procure the needed items, all would be well.

* * *

"Look at all these fish I caught!" Stephen stomped into
Hayley's garden, halting in front of her, a lopsided grin on his face. "Just look at them! Have you ever seen such a fine catch?"

Hayley stood, wiped her hands on her skirt and examined
the group of puny fish hanging from a string in Stephen's
hand. "Very impressive," she agreed, struggling to keep a
straight face. "You're obviously an expert fisherman."

Stephen's eyes narrowed suspiciously, clearly unsure if she was laughing at him or not. "You're not making fun of me, are you?" His voice resembled a threatening growl.

Her eyes widened in total innocence. "I? Make fun of you? A man who is obviously the finest fisherman to ever grace the shores of
England
? Perish the thought."

"I'll have you know that I'm quite proud of myself." He leaned close to Hayley, and she stifled a giggle. He stunk like dead fish. "This was my very first fishing expedition."

"He fell in the water two times," chimed in Andrew, as he and Nathan made their way into the garden.

Her gaze dropped to his ribs. "Did you hurt yourself?"

"A few twinges, nothing more. And I did
not
fall in. These hooligans pushed me," Stephen informed Hayley, pointing an accusing finger at the two laughing boys. "You really need to teach
these boys some manners," he added in
an undertone, winking broadly.

"You've never been
fishing before?" Hayley asked in
surprise.

"Never.
I'm a tutor, not a fisherman. The opportunity never presented itself. Until now. And I did a fine job of it, if
I
may
say so
myself." He held
his
string aloft and bestowed
an admiring glance on his paltry catch.

Hayley looked at the three of them and shook her head. She was not sure exactly what had transpired on their fishing expedition, but it was evident that they'd all enjoyed themselves.
And Stephen's smile was the broadest of all.

"Come on, Mr. Barrettson," Nathan urged, tugging on Stephen's arm. "Let's give our catch to
Pierre
so he can get busy cooking dinner."

"I have to go now," Stephen informed Hayley with a smug grin. "
Pierre
is expecting us in the kitchen, you know." He flashed her a big smile and allowed Nathan to pull him along. Hayley gazed after the trio and clapped her hand over her mouth to keep from bursting out laughing as they walked away from her.

The seat of Stephen's once fine breeches was split right up the back.

* * *

"Where are you boys off to?" Hayley asked her brothers at breakfast the following morning. "We have lessons to conduct."

Andrew and Nathan sent pleading, longing looks Hayley's way. "Mr. Barrettson offered to give us our lessons today. We're on our way to the meadow. Is that all right?"

Hayley looked at Stephen in surprise. "Outdoor lessons? Is this true?"

Stephen looked at her over the rim of his coffee cup. "Yes. I must pay a debt of honor to the boys and I could
teach them their lessons at the same time. If
you don't mind,
that is."

"No. I don't mind at all," Hayley murmured, totally confused. "What debt of honor must you pay?"

"Andrew and I made a wager the evening before last, and I lost."

Hayley's brows shot up. "You made a wager with
Andrew?
And lost?"

"It simply wasn't my night for wagers, I'm afraid," he
said with a slow grin.

Heat flushed
Hayley to
the roots of her hair as she recalled the
outcome of her wager with Stephen. Without
further comment, she watched him and her brothers leave the room. She had no idea what to make of Stephen. Ever since their argument at the lake and their subsequent chess match two nights ago, he seemed different. Less reserved. With everyone except her. While he was
unfailingly polite to her,
he'd somehow
erected an invisible
barrier between them.

In contrast, he'd taken an interest in Andrew and Na
than's activities,
first fishing with them, and now embarking on some unknown adventure together.

She'd sat through dinner the previous evening, filled with
nervous anticipation, wondering
if she would again find
herself alone with Stephen. Her head told her to stay away from him, but her heart just as adamantly implored her to seek
him out.

The decision was taken out of her
hands when he excused
himself shortly after dinner and retired to his room. She spent the evening working in the study, trying hard not to
feel disappointed. Or confused. Surely
it was better this way.

"Andrew and Nathan appear to have taken quite a shine to Mr. Barrettson," Aunt Olivia remarked, interrupting Hayley's thoughts.

"Yes, they have."

"And Mr. Barrettson seems to like them as well,"
Pamela added, refilling Hayley's cup.

"Truss me to the port beam and slap me with the sex
tant!" Winston boomed. "Why wouldn't 'e like the
lads?
They're fine boys, just like their Pa, God rest his soul. Why if that bloody bum don't like those boys, I'll make 'im walk
the plank." He glared at Grimsley. "You fixin' to argue about that, ya skinny runt?"

Grimsley tugged his jacket into
place. "Certainly not, although I can't imagine where we'd
find a plank to walk."

"You couldn't find a plank if it smacked ya in the head," Winston grumbled.

"I know
where there's a plank," Callie chimed in, cradling
Miss
Josephine in her arms. "There's a nice big plank outside, next to the chicken coop." She turned to Winston.
"We saw it the other day, Winston. You tripped on it and fell facedown in the chicken droppings. Don't you remember? That's when you hollered, 'bloody damn piece of wood! Son of a—'"

"Callie!" Hayley interrupted
hastily. "I'm certain Winston didn't mean to say such
inappropriate
words." She fixed him with
a meaningful glare. "Did you, Winston?"

Winston's scowl clearly indicated he'd meant every word and then some, but his expression softened when he glanced
at Callie. "Sorry," he
muttered. "Forgot the wee tyke was
about."

Grimsley mumbled something under his breath, and started
clearing the table.
Hayley huffed out a breath, prayed
for strength, and changed the
subject.

"What do you suppose they're planning to do today?" she asked. "I hope Andrew and Nathan aren't planning anything too
physically taxing. I'm sure Ste— Mr. Barrettson's
ribs are
still tender, and his shoulder is not yet fully healed."

"Mr. Barrettson appears a most
healthy specimen,"
Pamela said with a teasing grin. "I'm certain he can handle Andrew and Nathan."

"Oh, yes indeed," Aunt Olivia added. "Mr. Barrettson is quite a fine specimen of manhood. So
handsome and
broad-shouldered. Don't you agree, Hayley dear?"