Red Roses Mean Love

Stephen touched his fingers to his cheek. 'Actually, I think a bath is more in order,' he said dryly. If Sigfried saw him now, the formidable valet would succumb to apoplexy-immediately after he condemned those dogs to death.

'Wait here. I'll wet a napkin for you.'

She walked to the shore, bent over, and dipped one end of a linen napkin into the lake.

'Hayley! Look out!'

Andrew's warning came too late.

Just as Hayley straightened, one of the beasts jumped up and placed its huge front paws on her shoulders.

Hayley, clearly unprepared for the dog's enthusiastic greeting, lost her footing. She fell backward and landed with a wet splash in the water, the huge dog standing on top of her, wagging its tail and licking her face.

Stephen jumped to his feet, ignoring the pain the sudden movement caused in his tender ribs, and raced to the shore.

'Stop it, you crazy canine!' Andrew yelled, giving the beast an unceremonious shove. The dog lavished Hayley's face with one last swipe of its tongue and jumped off, racing down the shore with his cohorts following in a frenzy.

By the time Stephen reached the shore, Andrew and Nathan had helped her up and were leading her out of the water. Stephen skidded to a halt, and stared.

She was soaked, head to foot. Her hair lay plastered against her scalp, bits of leaves clinging to the strands. Flecks of mud marked her face, like dirty freckles against her pale skin.

Black mud streaked her gown, which clung to her body like a second skin. Stephen's gaze wandered down her length, his imagination easily conjuring up the perfection of her curves under the wet material. His nostrils twitched as he caught a whiff of her. She stunk to high heaven. Obviously Stinky was the culprit. His eyes traveled back to her face and he froze, stunned by what he saw.

He'd fully expected her to be outraged. Any woman of his acquaintance, including his normally sweet-natured sister, would be furious and apoplectic over such an incident.

Hayley was smiling.

'Are you all right?' Pamela asked, holding Callie by the hand.

Hayley laughed and looked down at herself. 'Well, I look like the very devil, and smell even worse, but other than that I'm fine.' She shot a sheepish look at Stephen. 'Did I mention that the dogs are somewhat high- strung?'

Several other words to describe those filthy beasts sprang to Stephen's mind, but before he had a chance to utter them, the dogs bounded back at full gallop, tongues lolling. The three beasts surrounded the group and simultaneously shook themselves, showering sprays of muddy water in all directions. Then they took off in a tear, disappearing into the woods.

Stephen looked at his soaked shirt and wiped the water drops from his face with his wet sleeve. 'High-strung, did you say?' he asked, surveying the rest of the group. They were all wet and bedraggled, especially little Callie, who was nothing short of drenched.

'Perhaps 'overly enthusiastic' is a better term,' Pamela suggested with a giggle, pushing her wet hair from her face.

'How about zealous?' Andrew said with a grin.

'Mentally unbalanced is actually more accurate,' Stephen muttered, shaking his head.

Nathan turned beseeching eyes to his bedraggled sister. 'Can we dunk in the water, Hayley? Please? We're already all wet.'

Stephen thought Hayley was going to refuse, but he watched a mischievous gleam sparkle in her eyes. She lifted her sodden skins to her knees.

'Last one in is a wart-nosed goblin!' she shouted.

The rest of the Albrights, including Pamela, who until that moment Stephen had believed fairly sane, splashed into the lake. Nathan performed a belly-flop dive, sending a sheet of water over everyone as he dunked beneath the surface. Stephen stood on the shore, half amused, half horrified by their exuberant, uninhibited behavior. They tossed water at each other, flinging Shakespearean insults back and forth.

'Your 'offence is rank, it smells to heaven!'' Splash!

''Something is rotten in the state of Denmark!'' Splash!

''My nose is in great indignation!'' Splash!

''You have a blasting and scandalous odor!'' Splash!

Stephen shook his head in amazement. They were all candidates for Bedlam. But damn it, their hilarity was contagious. Throwing his head back, he laughed until his sides ached. He just couldn't help himself. The group of them, from the supposedly adult Hayley down to little Callie, were soaked, bedraggled and obviously enjoying themselves to the limit.

'Mr. Barrettson! Mr. Barrettson! You're the wart-nosed goblin!' Callie ran to Stephen and grabbed his hand, tugging him forward. 'Come on! You're missing all the fun!'

Stephen hesitated. Frolic about in a lake? In one's clothes? He'd never done anything so undignified in his entire life. It was one thing to watch them and quite another to participate.

Callie tugged again. 'Don't be afraid, Mr. Barrettson. It's only water.'

He drew himself up. 'I'm not afraid.'

Leaning closer, she confided in an undernote, 'If Winston were here, he'd say 'get yer bloody self wet. Yer arse won't melt.' That's what he tells Andrew and Nathan when they don't want to take their baths.'

A bark of horrified laughter nearly choked him. Half appalled, half amused, he shifted his feet and debated if he should correct her. Callie clearly interpreted the movement as a sign of capitulation. She yanked on his hand, and he gave in. What the hell. No one will ever know. He allowed Callie to pull him forward into the lake. The instant he joined the others, a wall of water hit him in the face, shocking him, leaving him sputtering.

'Oops!' Hayley flashed him an unrepentant grin. Determined to regain his dignity, Stephen issued a low growl and plunged his hands into the water, and splashed for all he was worth. His bruised ribs protested the movement, but he ignored the discomfort, intent on regaining his honor. Callie and Andrew sided with Stephen against Nathan, Pamela, and Hayley, and soon all-out war was waged.

After nearly half an hour Hayley called a cease-fire. 'Halt!' she gasped, puffing with exertion.

Stephen remained bent over, arms beneath the surface of the water, ready to pounce. His eyes narrowed on the opposing troops. 'Are you surrendering?'

'Yes. I give up. I can't go on,' Hayley said, pushing her soaking hair from her forehead.

'Nor I,' panted Pamela.

'But, Hayley!' protested Nathan. 'I'm not ready to surrender.'

Hayley rumpled the boy's hair. 'Part of being a successful leader is knowing when you're beaten. We shall be victorious next time.'

'We accept your surrender,' Stephen said solemnly. The opposing forces shook hands all around and sloshed out of the water, laughing and dripping.

They'd just reached the shore when a man's voice came from beyond the thick copse of trees.

'Hello? Is that you, Miss Albright?'

Everyone's attention focused on a group of people emerging from the forest.

'Good heavens, Hayley, it's Dr. Wentbridge,' Pamela gasped in a distressed undertone. 'Whatever will he think when he sees me in such a state? Oh dear.'

'Come quickly.' Hayley grabbed Pamela's hand and hurried her back to the quilt. She yanked the blanket from the ground and vigorously shook the leaves from it. 'We cannot do anything about your hair, but at least we can hide your gown.' Hayley wrapped the quilt around Pamela, brushed a soggy curl from her sister's wet, flushed face, then turned to greet the newcomers.

Stephen and the young Albrights joined Hayley and Pamela just as two gentlemen and a woman approached. When the newcomers were several yards away, they paused.

'Miss Albright!' said the shorter man. 'What manner of tragedy has befallen you?'

Stephen looked the speaker up and down. He was a handsome young man with light brown hair and concerned