Red Roses Mean Love

teaching methods with interest. She started Nathan composing a short story, invented a half-dozen complicated mathematical problems for Andrew, then instructed Callie to draw pictures of objects using every letter of the alphabet. Last, she discussed various household items with Pamela while they set up their picnic lunch. It was certainly different from the strict lessons he'd received at the hands of his forbidding private tutors.

Did this woman do anything in the conventional way? Damn it, no. She didn't. And he was beginning to suspect that was part of her appeal.

When the children finished their assignments, everyone clamored onto the quilt to eat. Hayley passed out plates of cold meat pies, chicken, fish, and cheese while Pamela cut thick slices of bread.

After the children had been served, Hayley turned to him. 'I hope you're hungry, Mr. Barrettson.'

'Starved,' Stephen assured her, reminding himself they were discussing lunch.

'What sort of chicken do you care for?' she asked, peering into the hamper. 'I have three thighs, one leg, and two wings.'

'Indeed? You must have a devil of a time getting clothes to fit.'

At first she seemed puzzled by his words, then, as their meaning sank in, she blushed bright red. 'I didn't mean-'

'I was teasing you, Hayley,' he said softly, feeling more lighthearted than he had in years. He reached around her, grabbed a chicken leg, and bit into the meat with gusto. 'Delicious,' he proclaimed, giving her a broad wink. By damn, being a tutor was great fun.

Leaning toward her, Stephen said, 'You're blushing, Hayley. Just as you did when you said your name means 'from the hay meadow.'' He paused and lowered his gaze pointedly to her mouth. 'I believe we know each other well enough now for you tell me why the meaning of your name brings such color to your cheeks.'

Glancing around, he saw that Andrew and Nathan were engrossed in the unlikely combination of activities of eating meat pies and catching a grasshopper. Pamela and Callie sat on the far end of the huge quilt, eating and laughing at Andrew and Nathan's antics. 'This is as alone as we'll ever be in such a crowd. Tell me,' he urged.

Amusement gleamed in her eyes. 'I don't want to shock you.'

He waved his chicken leg with a flourish. 'I am completely unshockable, I assure you.'

'Very well, but don't say you weren't warned. It's an Albright family tradition to name the children in commemoration of the place or circumstances surrounding their, er, conception.

Stephen stared at her for several heartbeats as understanding dawned. 'You mean your parents-'

'Precisely. In a hay meadow. I'm deeply grateful there was no stream nearby or I might have been christened something truly horrid like 'Atwater' or 'Riverhead.''

'Indeed.' A deep chuckle rumbled through him. 'I must admit, I'm now curious about the origins of the other children's names.'

She raised her brows. 'You're certain you're unshockable?'

'Positive.'

'All right. Pamela means 'made from honey.' Papa brought Mama a porcelain jar back from a voyage, and…' Her voice trailed off.

Stephen suppressed a laugh. 'Say no more. I quite understand.'

'Nathan means 'gift from God' and was chosen because my parents had prayed for a boy. Andrew means 'manly,' chosen by Mama because she said Papa was, er, manly.' She coughed into her hand. 'And Callie means 'the most beautiful,' again chosen by Mama to commemorate her, um, night with Papa.'

Stephen wasn't sure what amused him more-her outrageous story or the ever growing crimson staining her cheeks. Their eyes met and his mirth faded, replaced by an overpowering desire to touch her. To kiss her. All the promises he'd made himself last evening fled his mind, his resolve melting like sugar in hot tea.

For the first time in years he had absolutely nothing to do but sit on a quilt by a lake and nibble on chicken legs, and by damn he was enjoying himself. All the cares and responsibilities he shouldered were miles away for the time being. An unprecedented sense of peace washed over him.

He shouldn't be flirting with Hayley, but he couldn't help himself. His gaze fixed on her wide aqua eyes and a slow grin curved one corner of his lips.

He ran a lazy fingertip across her flushed cheek. She drew in a quick breath and her lips parted slightly, drawing his attention. The need to taste her again was quickly overpowering his common sense. Leaning closer, he whispered, 'Your skin turns the most fascinating shade when-'

'Hayley!' Callie's voice broke in. 'May I have some cider?'

Hayley gasped. Disappointment flooded him. Jerking back from his hand, she focused her attention on pouring Callie some cider and the moment was lost.

Pamela rejoined them, helping herself to another slice of bread. 'What age are the children you tutor, Mr. Barrettson?' she asked.

He forced his gaze from Hayley's tempting mouth. 'The young man I was in charge of recently went off to Eton, thus ending my employment,' he improvised smoothly. 'I am scheduled to begin with another family next month.'

'Where does the family live?' Callie asked. 'I hope it is near Halstead so we can see you often.' Her huge eyes looked at him with a hopeful expression.

Stephen's light mood sobered a bit. Once he left Halstead, he doubted he would ever see the Albrights again. His life was almost exclusively in London or his country estate, Glenfield Manor, which was situated several hours from London in the opposite direction of Halstead. He and the Albrights moved in completely different social circles. No, he was unlikely ever to see them again.

'I'm afraid the family lives very far from Halstead, Callie,' he answered. The hopeful light faded from her eyes, yanking something tender in his heart.

'Oh,' Callie said, clearly crestfallen. Then her expression brightened. 'Perhaps you can come to visit us. Hayley promised me a party for my birthday next month. Would you like to come? We'll have a grand tea party with cakes and cookies.'

Stephen was saved from answering by a loud bark. He turned and gaped, watching as three huge dogs-or were they small, barking, horses?-emerged from the woods and barreled toward the group at breakneck speed. He made a halfhearted attempt to stand, but Hayley laid a restraining hand on his arm.

'I wouldn't get up if I were you,' she warned in a laughing voice. 'It is only inviting them to knock you down.'

'What the hell are they?' Stephen eyed the approaching beasts distrustfully. 'They looked as if they could eat Callie in one gulp. And they're nearly upon us.'

'They're our pets. Oh, I know they look intimidating, but they're gentle as lambs. Just sit still and let them smell you. You'll be the best of friends in no time.'

Stephen didn't have a chance to reply. The three dogs descended, tongues lolling, tails wagging, and chaos reigned. The beasts alternately gobbled every morsel of food on the quilt, licked the Albright children, and barked in a deafening fashion. Stephen sat perfectly still, praying that the monster smelling his ear wouldn't decide to make an hors d'oeuvre out of it.

'May I present our dogs, Winky, Pinky, and Stinky,' Hayley said, trying without much success to smother a grin. 'Boys, this is Mr. Barrettson, our guest. I expect you to treat him with the utmost courtesy and gentleness.'

The beast directly in front of Stephen had only one eye. 'This, I take it, is Winky?' he guessed, casting a sidelong glance at Hayley.

'Yes. Poor Winky lost an eye several years ago. And this is Pinky. Callie named him that because he had no fur when he was a puppy, only pink skin.'

Stephen refrained from pointing out that Pinky did not have much hair now. He was easily the most moth-eaten character Stephen had ever set eyes on.

The third big beast came up to Stephen, thrust its snout in his face, and barked once. Without a doubt this animal was Stinky. The stench of his breath nearly choked Stephen. Then, before he could stop the beast, it swiped the entire side of his face with a stinking, slimy tongue.

'Come on boys!' Nathan and Andrew shouted. They picked up sticks and headed for the lake shore. Several seconds later the dogs ran into the water, eagerly fetching the pieces of wood.

'Do you need a handkerchief?' Hayley asked, staring pointedly at his wet face.