Red Roses Mean Love

'Stephen hasn't given me any indication he intends to change his plans.'

'Perhaps he would if he knew you cared for him.'

'No!' Hayley practically shouted. 'I mean, he must know that I like him-'

'Does he know that you love him?' Pamela asked. 'Do you love him?'

Hayley's heart banged against her ribs. 'No. And yes. No, he doesn't know, and yes, I do. I … love him.' Saying the words out loud filled her with both relief and sadness. 'But surely you can see how hopeless this is. I'm not a young woman-'

'You're only six and twenty!'

Hayley smiled at her sister's loyalty. 'I'm far past the first bloom of youth, Pamela. And a man like Stephen …well, clearly he could have any woman he wants.'

'And if he wants you?' Pamela asked softly.

Hayley shook her head and didn't answer. Even if Stephen should want her, she had far too many responsibilities and secrets to consider sharing her life with anyone.

'I wish I could help you, Hayley. You're always doing for other people, never asking anything for yourself. For the first time, you want something. I pray you get it.'

Hayley's insides melted. Dear Pamela. 'You help me by being happy, and sharing that happiness with me,' she said sincerely. 'I've changed my mind. I cannot wait to attend Lorelei's party if for no other reason than to see Marshall Wentbridge's eyes pop out when he sees you in your lovely new gown.'

Pamela blushed. 'Thank you for buying it for me. It's so lovely.'

Hayley leaned over and kissed her sister's pink cheek. 'So are you, Pamela. So are you.'

'Well, I'm going to keep my fingers crossed that Mr. Barrettson realizes how wonderful you are and decides to remain in Halstead,' Pamela said. 'Maybe if we both wish hard enough, it will happen.'

'What will happen?' Callie asked, joining them. 'What are we wishing for? I love to make wishes.'

Hayley stroked the child's dark curls. 'We're wishing for love. And happiness.'

Callie wrapped her chubby little arms around Hayley and hugged her fiercely. 'I love you both, and I'm very happy.'

Hayley and Pamela laughed. 'See there?' Hayley said. 'You just made all our wishes come true.' She dropped a kiss into Callie's hair. 'Shall we pack up your easel, then try to discover what those brothers of ours are up to, and what mischief they've dragged poor Mr. Barrettson into?'

The plan was agreed upon, and they set out to find Andrew, Nathan, and Stephen.

* * *

'We need more rocks over here,' Nathan shouted, dropping a large stone atop the rapidly growing wall.

'How many?' Andrew shouted back.

'Three or four.'

'All right.'

Andrew lifted a heavy stone and struggled over to where Nathan stood. Stephen hoisted an even heavier rock, grimacing at the pain in his ribs. He carried it over to the boys and placed it on top of the wall.

'How's that?' Stephen asked, wiping the sweat from his brow with his forearm.

They'd been working on King Arthur's 'castle' the entire morning, hauling rocks of all sizes. The result was a very respectable fortress wall.

'It looks grand,' Nathan enthused, walking around the structure. It was nearly five feet high and over twelve feet long.

'And we finished not a moment too soon,' Stephen said, dropping down onto the grass. 'Between my shoulder and my ribs, I'm ready to rest.' He stretched out on his back, and shielded his eyes from the bright sun with his forearm.

'But now it's time to play Knights of the Round Table,' Nathan protested. 'We have to don our suits of armor.'

Stephen groaned, and peeked out from beneath his arm at the two eager boys. 'Oh, all right,' he grumbled. 'But first this knight needs to rest a bit.' He winced as a pain shot through his overworked shoulder. 'Some refreshments are in order, I think.'

'We'll fetch some water from the lake,' Andrew offered.

The two boys scurried off, and Stephen breathed a sigh of relief, enjoying the brief respite. The sun warmed his skin, and the gentle breeze carried the scent of wildflowers. An insect flew by and he lifted a lazy hand to swat it away. In spite of his weariness, he'd thoroughly enjoyed his morning with Andrew and Nathan, just as he'd enjoyed their company yesterday. He'd initially sought them out in a desperate attempt to avoid Hayley, but he'd quickly discovered they were bright, intelligent lads, and surprisingly well mannered in spite of their good-natured bickering. They'd taught Stephen how to fish, and laughed uproariously at his reluctance to skewer the fat, wiggly worm on the hook.

But after a few tries, Stephen had mastered the grisly task and actually enjoyed himself. He couldn't recall ever laughing so much. Young boys, Stephen decided, were not nearly so difficult as he'd previously thought. In fact, they were quite delightful to talk to and spend time with.

Today he'd helped them add on to their castle. They already had constructed several other 'buildings,' and Stephen couldn't help but admire the time and effort the boys had obviously devoted to their Camelot. As a child, Stephen had had very few opportunities to play. Nearly all his time had been spent learning everything his father deemed necessary in order to one day inherit the dukedom.

Gregory and Victoria had enjoyed much more free time to indulge in childish games. Their father was less strict with his daughter and second son. He allowed them to run about the estate and play-anything to keep them occupied and out of his way-but Stephen rarely joined in. His days were spent in the schoolroom under the harsh eyes of his countless tutors. Sohere I am, at eight and twenty, running around in the forest like a child, and having a damn good time doing it, too.

Just then the boys returned with a bucketful of cold water. Stephen took a long, thirsty drink and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. His whiskers prickled his skin, and he realized it had been several days since Hayley had shaved him. He ran his hand over his stubbly cheeks and recalled the feel of her soft breasts pressing on his arm as she leaned over his chest to scrape the razor against his face. Asking her to shave him again was probably not a good idea.

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.