Red Roses Mean Love (20 page)

Andrew and Nathan plopped
themselves down next to
Stephen, and he turned his
attention to them. He stifled a
smile when he realized both boys' shirtsleeves
were rolled
up and their buttons unfastened in a
fashion similar to his
own. Evidently they
were emulating him. Unexpectedly,
pride bubbled up in his chest.

He watched
Andrew stroke his hands down his face the way Stephen had
just done. "I
suppose I'll need to
shave
soon," the boy said casually.

Before Stephen could reply, Nathan burst out laughing.
"Are you daft?" He made a big show of
peering at his older
brother's face. "Not even one hair. Balder than an egg, you are."

Andrew's face flushed. "I am not. I have plenty of whiskers." He turned to Stephen.
"Don't
I, Mr. Barrettson?"

Stephen instantly recalled himself at Andrew's age. A boy, teetering on the awkward brink of manhood, impatient yet terrified to cross that threshold. He'd desperately needed
and wanted a man to talk to, but his father possessed neither the time nor the inclination to bother with him. He knew what
it was like to grow up without a father's love and attention, and his heart squeezed in sympathy for these two fatherless boys.

His face a mask of concentration, Stephen seriously pondered Andrew's
upturned face. It was baby smooth.
"Hmmm. Yes, Andrew, I believe I see quite a few
whiskers
growing. I
predict you'll need to
start shaving very soon."
He almost smiled at the boy's obvious relief.

"Of
course," Stephen continued, "once a man starts shaving, everything changes drastically."

Both boys sat up straighter, their eyes
round. "Everything changes?" they echoed in unison. "How?"

Stephen hesitated,
floundering for the proper words, and
cursed his inability to impart some form of manly
wisdom to
his rapt audience. Knowing he was in over his head but determined to try, he drew a deep breath and began, "Once
you're a man, life becomes
…
complicated. There are countless rules to follow, and responsibility and duties are thrust upon you. You must learn to rely on yourself. The world is filled with dishonest people who will try to take ad
vantage of you or hurt you."
Or kill you.

Nathan scooted closer to Stephen, until their knees
bumped. "Hayley would never let anyone
hurt us. She takes care of us."

"Yes, she does," Stephen agreed, "but once you're a man, then you'll
need to take
care
of
her.
Pamela and Callie,
too."

Andrew's face collapsed into a
frown.
"I don't have to
attend Callie's tea parties, do I?"

"By 'take care of them' I meant be kind to them," Stephen clarified. "Respect them. Do things for them without complaint. Protect them from harm and dishonest people.
Believe me, not everyone is as kind
and generous as your
family, so you need to watch out for yourselves and each other." He
hesitated, then added, "And of course, there's
the matter of
…
girls."

Nathan snorted.
"Girls?
By jingo, I don't like girls. They play with dolls and don't like to get dirty."

Stephen ruffled his hair. "You'll feel differently in a few years."

"Is that when I'll need to shave?"

Smothering a grin, Stephen said, "Yes, Nathan. That's pretty much the order of things. You realize you like girls,
you shave, then you're a man."

Understanding dawned in Nathan's eyes.
"That's
why Andrew has whiskers!
It's because he likes Lizzy Mayfield!"

"I do not!"

Anxious to forestall an argument,
Stephen laid a hand on
each boy's shoulder.
"Enough, gentlemen. Nathan, do not
tease your brother. You'll understand why when you're fourteen. And Andrew, there is nothing wrong with liking a girl. It's simply a part of growing up." He shot the boy a conspir
atorial wink.
"The
best
part."

A shy smile tugged at Andrew's lips. "Thank you, Mr. Barrettson. I—"

"There you are!"

Stephen turned and saw Hayley, Pamela, and
Callie strid
ing through the tall grass.

Nathan jumped to his feet. "I'm going to fetch the armor from our secret hiding place before they get here." He dashed off through the trees.

"It appears our man-to-man talk is over," Stephen said.

"Man to
man?"
Andrew asked, his eyes wide with wonder.

Stephen nodded. "Man to man." He held out his hand.
Andrew's gaze shifted between Stephen's face and his hand. The boy swallowed visibly, then clasped Stephen's hand with a firm grip. The gratitude shining from the boy's eyes swelled Stephen's insides with pride.

"Look at the castle!"
Callie yelled, clapping her hands
together, running
toward the new structure.

Hayley and
Pamela both inspected
the wall, and declared it an architectural wonder. They then
joined Andrew and
Stephen on the grass.

Leaning back and propping himself up on his elbows,
Stephen indulged himself and looked at Hayley. His gaze moved to her face and his heart speeded up when he saw her attention riveted on
his half-unbuttoned shirt.

He
instantly imagined her touching him, running her
hands over his chest, across his shoulders, down his back. An ache tightened his loins and he abruptly sat up, a frown pinching between his brows. Jesus! The woman made him hard just by looking at him. If he didn't get back to
London
and visit his mistress soon, he was going to lose his mind.

"Where's Nathan?" Pamela
asked, looking around the
meadow.

"He went to retrieve our armor from our
secret hiding
place," Andrew answered.

"I'll find him," Callie said, bounding toward the forest. "I know where the secret place is."

"How do you know?" Andrew shouted after her.

Callie just giggled and headed toward the forest.

"Is it far?" Hayley asked, watching Callie run across the meadow.

"No. It's just past that
group of trees," Andrew said, pointing to a dense copse of oaks.

"So, Mr. Barrettson," Pamela said, smiling at him, "how did Andrew and Nathan convince you to help them
build Camelot? At breakfast you mentioned losing a wager?"

Stephen cast a sidelong glance at Andrew. "Andrew bet
his sister could best me at chess. I didn't believe him, though I should have." His gaze found Hayley. "I was on the receiving end of a tail-whipping at the chess table.
Building
Camelot is the price I pay for losing."

"It's too bad
you
didn't make a wager with Mr. Barrettson, Hayley," Andrew said with a laugh.

"Oh, but she did," Stephen said with a slow smile, unable to resist teasing Hayley. He thoroughly enjoyed the bright red flush that stained her cheeks. "I've already paid my debt to your sister," he said to Andrew, never taking his eyes from Hayley's flushed face. "She's not nearly the slave driver you and Nathan are."

Andrew looked at him with interest. "What did Hayley have you do?"

"She made me—"

"Goodness! It's getting quite late," Hayley broke in, her voice filled with a combination of outrage and desperation. She cast a warning frown at Stephen. "We really must get back to the house."

Before Andrew could ask another curious question, the group's attention was
caught by the sight of Callie running
from the forest, frantically waving her arms.

"Hayley! Hayley! Come quick!"

Alarm filled Hayley at the wild-eyed look on Callie's face and the panic in her voice. She ran toward the child, leaving Andrew, Stephen, and Pamela behind.

When she reached
Callie, she dropped to her knees and smoothed curls away from the child's frightened face. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"It's Nathan," Callie panted, her eyes huge. "He's fallen, I think from a tree, and is hurt. I heard him groaning, and found him, but when I spoke to him, he didn't answer me."

Hayley's stomach crashed to her feet. "Show me where," she ordered, trying to keep her voice calm.

"What's wrong?"
Stephen, Andrew, and Pamela all
asked in
out-of-breath unison.

"Nathan fell from a tree and is hurt," Hayley said tersely. "Take us to him, Callie."

The group followed
Callie into the forest. She lead them
past a group of tall oaks and pointed. "There he is. Under that tree."

Hayley ran and several minutes later found Nathan lying in a crumpled heap under a tree, a sack clutched in his arms.

"Dear God," she whispered, her heart tripping on itself. A small trickle of blood ran down Nathan's temple, and his face was deathly white.

"Is he all right?" Stephen asked anxiously, dropping to his knees beside Hayley.

"I
…
I don't know," she whispered, barely able to force words around the hard knot of fear lodged in her throat. Reaching out, she placed her fingers against the side of Nathan's neck, praying she'd find a pulse. When she felt the beat against her fingers, steady and strong, she nearly fainted from relief.

"His pulse is normal," she managed to say.

"Thank God," Pamela said. She held Callie and Andrew each by the hand and allowed Hayley to examine Nathan.

With Stephen's help, she examined the boy for broken bones. "As far as I can tell," Hayley said several minutes later, "he has no broken bones. It appears he's merely hit his head."

"Maybe he's bleeding inside," Andrew said, his eyes round with fear.

"I don't think so," Hayley said with a calmness she did
not feel. She wanted to scream, rip out her hair, but she
couldn't fall to pieces and frighten the others. Turning to Stephen, she asked, "Can you carry Nathan back to the house? I'll
run
and fetch
the
doctor."

Stephen nodded. "Of course." He reached out and
gently picked the boy up in his strong arms. Nathan emitted a soft groan.

Hayley touched Nathan's
forehead, then looked up at Stephen, knowing her eyes were huge with fright.

Stephen held her gaze, his eyes somber and steady. "I'll
take
good care of him, Hayley. He's going to be all right.
Take Pericles and go get the doctor."

Unable to speak around the tightness in her throat, Hayley merely jerked her head in a nod and took off at a dead run toward the stables. When she arrived, she quickly saddled Pericles, and without a thought to her unladylike actions, hitched her skirts up to her thighs and vaulted into
the saddle, sitting astride.

She pressed her knees to Pericles's flanks, and they galloped toward the village at a breakneck pace.

Chapter 14

«
^
»

H
ayley burst through the door
of Albright Cottage half an
hour later, Dr.
Marshall Wentbridge hot on her heels.

"Where are they?" she asked Grimsley
breathlessly.

"In Master Nathan's bedchamber," Grimsley said, twisting his gnarled hands in obvious distress.

Hayley took the stairs three at a time,
Marshall
right behind her. When they arrived at the bedchamber door,
Marshall
entered and shooed everyone out.

"I'll speak to you as soon as I've examined him," he said firmly, closing the door on the anxious faces in the hall.

"Did he regain consciousness while I was gone?" Hayley asked, looking from Stephen to Pamela, dreading the answer she saw mirrored in their expressions.

Stephen shook his head. "No. He groaned a few times, but did not open his eyes."

"Is Nathan going to die?"
Callie asked in a small, fright
ened voice. She clutched Miss Josephine to her chest, and peered up at Hayley with wide round eyes.

Pushing her owns fears aside, Hayley dropped to her knees and gathered the child into her arms. "No, darling. Nathan is not going to die," she said, fighting to keep her voice steady.
I refuse to let him die.
She pressed a kiss to Callie's forehead.
"Dr. Wentbridge is going to make Nathan
as good as new. In fact, I'm sure he's going to wake up soon, and I bet the very first thing he'll want is one of
Pierre
's sugar cookies."

"Yes indeed, Callie," Pamela agreed. "Why don't we go to the kitchen and arrange for a tea party with all Nathan's favorite snacks?"

Callie snuffled and wiped her nose with the back of her
hand. "A tea party?" she asked, looking from one to the other.

"The very best tea
party
in
the whole world," Hayley
promised with a smile.

"All right," Callie agreed, allowing Pamela to take her
hand and lead her away.

Hayley turned to Andrew. "Could you please see to Pericles and Dr. Wentbridge's horse? We left them
tethered in
front of the house. They both need water and oats, and Pericles requires
grooming."

Andrew cast a look at the
closed bedchamber door. "Will
you let me know what the
doctor says?" he asked, clearly re
luctant to leave.

"The minute he comes out," Hayley promised. She gave
Andrew what she hoped was a reassuring pat on his
shoulder
and watched him walk away. As soon as he was out of sight, her shoulders slumped and she buried her face in her hands.

Stephen watched her struggle for control, and his heart rolled over. She was trying so hard to be brave for everyone,
but he knew she was frightened to death. Damn it, he'd never felt so helpless in his life. He couldn't
remember the
last time he'd asked God for anything, but ever since they'd found Nathan, he'd
repeatedly prayed the
boy would be all right. He reached out and touched her sleeve.

"Hayley," he
said softly, his heart aching for her.

She lifted her head from her hands and looked at him, the tears she'd tried to hold back spilling down her
cheeks.

"God, Hayley, please don't cry." The sight of her aqua eyes swimming with tears, her face pale with fright, twisted him into knots. He opened his arms to her, and with a broken sob she threw herself into them.

Stephen clasped her to him, his arms embracing her like bands of steel. She wrapped her arms around his waist and clung to him, burying her face against his shoulder, her tears wetting his shirt. He ran his hands up and down her back, desperate to
soothe her. Pressing gentle kisses against her
hair, he whispered soft words he hoped were comforting. He didn't know how to help her other than to hold her. Her tears lashed him, wetting right through his shirt to his skin, and continuing down to his very soul. Listening to her muffled sobs, he thought his heart would shatter into a thousand fragments.

When her sobs finally dwindled down to a series of hiccups, Stephen
realized the worst was over, and a sigh of pro
found relief escaped him.

Reaching into the pocket of her gown, she
withdrew a
handkerchief. She leaned back in the circle of his arms and gave her nose a hearty, unladylike blow.

"Feel better?" he asked, a smile tilting one corner of his mouth. When she looked up at him, his smile faded. Her eyes looked bruised and he clearly read the fear in them.

"I'm so frightened, Stephen," she whispered. "First Mama died. Then Papa
…
"
A sob escaped her. "I couldn't bear it if Nathan—"

"He's going to be all right, Hayley,"
Stephen said in a
fierce voice, and he knew he would give
everything he
owned to make his words true. He
watched a lone tear escape her lashes and travel down her cheek. Reaching out, he captured the droplet on one finger.
I didn't know angels cried.

She sniffed and wiped her eyes again with the handkerchief. "I'm sorry I fell apart in such a manner. I don't normally lose control like that. Thank you for being here. For being my friend. For
helping Nathan. For holding me."

"You're welcome." Jesus, she
looked so frightened, so
very vulnerable, staring at him with those huge aqua eyes.

She reached up one hand and laid it
against his jaw. "You're a wonderful man, Stephen," she whispered.

A rush of protectiveness crashed over him. He was seized by an overpowering urge to break down the door and shake the doctor until he said that Nathan was going to be all right.

He wanted to chop down the hateful tree that had spilled Nathan from its branches. Unprecedented emotions swamped
him
…
emotions that made him want to destroy
anyone or anything that would ever dare hurt this woman
who stared up at him as if he were some sort of hero. As if he mattered. As
if
there were more to him than a title and
wealth.
You're a wonderful man, Stephen.

He briefly closed his eyes and allowed her words to wash over him again.
You're a wonderful man, Stephen.
No one, not even his sister, had ever said such a thing to him before. And Stephen himself knew damn well he wasn't wonderful. After all, there was someone who hated him enough to want him dead.

A lump lodged in his throat. He wanted to say something to her, to disabuse her of her incorrect notions, but he couldn't force any words out.

"You are," she said softly, as if she'd read his mind. "You may not think so, but you are. You're not only wonderful, you're noble, and generous, and kind." She laid her hand directly over his heart. "In here. In your heart. In your soul. Where it counts." A wobbly smile touched her lips. "I would never lie to you. Trust me. I know."

Stephen framed her face between his hands, a frown tugging his brows. His gaze probed hers, searching—for what he wasn't sure, but he suddenly felt confused, and somehow vulnerable.
I would never lie to you.
Everything he'd told her about himself was a lie. He felt like a first-class bastard.

"Hayley, I—"

The bedchamber door opened and Marshall Wentbridge entered the hall. If he was surprised to find Hayley and Stephen standing so close together, with Hayley's palms resting on Stephen's chest and his hands cupping her face, he gave no indication of it.

"How is Nathan?" Hayley asked, stepping away from Stephen. "Is he all right?"

"He's fine,"
Marshall
assured her with a smile.

Stephen watched her squeeze her eyes shut for several seconds. His own body felt liquid with relief.

"Thank God," she said, grabbing Stephen's hand and
squeezing it
hard.

"He suffered no broken bones, and he awoke while I was examining him,"
Marshall
went on. "He's a very lucky young man. I put a salve on the cut on his
forehead, which,
by the way, is little more than a scratch, and cautioned him in my severest tones to stay out of trees."

"Maybe he'll listen to you," Hayley said with a shaky laugh. "He certainly hasn't listened to me."

"He's resting now if you'd like to see him. I gave him a bit of laudanum, so he won't be awake for very long. He needs to stay in bed for a day or two, then he'll be good as new."

Hayley grabbed both
of
Marshall
's hands between hers.
"Thank you,
Marshall
. From my heart, I thank you. Will you tell the others that Nathan is fine? And perhaps you'd like to stay for tea?"

"I'd be happy to, on both accounts,"
Marshall
said with a smile, then headed toward the stairs.

Hayley opened the door and looked back at Stephen when
he hesitated.

"Come on," she urged. When he still
hesitated, she took
his hand and pulled him into the room. "You helped rescue Nathan. You're part of the family, Stephen. Come with me."

You're part of the family.
Stephen looked down at his hand that Hayley clasped, their fingers intertwined, and al
lowed her to pull him into Nathan's bedchamber.

You're part of the family.