Red Roses Mean Love

hopeful expression. Clearly knowing when he was defeated, Justin set his package down, moved to the tiny chair and gingerly sat down. He could barely squeeze his hips between the chair's wooden arms, and like Stephen's, his knees bumped his chin.

'Wonderful!' Callie exclaimed, clapping her hands with glee. 'I'll pour the tea while we wait for Grimsley to bring our cookies.' With great ceremony, Callie poured four cups of tea and served her guests. Justin stared down at the thimble-size cup with a dazed expression, then choked back a laugh.

Grimsley arrived with a plate of cookies, setting it in the center of the table. 'Good afternoon, Mr. Mallory.'

Justin looked up from his cramped position. 'Good afternoon, Grimsley.'

'How fortunate you arrived in time for the party,' the footman said with a perfectly straight face. He bowed and left the patio.

Callie passed the plate of cookies around, keeping up a constant string of chatter. She refilled the tiny cups as soon as they were emptied-one sip rendered them dry-and acted the perfect hostess. When the teapot was empty, she excused herself to refill it.

Alone on the patio, Justin shot Stephen a sidelong glance.

'Don't say it, Justin.'

'Don't say what?'

'What you're thinking.'

Justin squinted at him. 'Actually, I was wondering what happened to your face.'

Stephen sizzled him with a withering look. 'I shaved, if you must know.'

Justin's jaw fell. 'You shaved? What on earth did you use? A rusty ax?'

Stephen's lips thinned. 'I used a razor. And I'll have youknow, I think I did a damn fine job. It's not easy shaving yourself. I recommend you not take your valet for granted. I intend to double Sigfried's salary the moment I return to London.'

'Why not simply grow a beard?' Justin asked, his amusement evident.

Stephen mentally sighed and wished Justin would just be quiet. 'Aunt Olivia prefers me clean-shaven,' he mumbled. 'So does Callie.'

'Ah, I see,' Justin said, nodding. He peered at Stephen's hand. 'What is that scratch on your hand? Another shaving debacle?'

'It's a memento from my fishing trip with the boys.'

Justin raised his brows. 'Fishing?'

'Yes. I caught eight fish and only fell in the stream twice.'

Justin's eyes nearly popped from his head, then he burst into laughter. He laughed until tears streamed down his face. 'Dear God, Stephen,' he finally said, brushing his cheeks with a tiny linen napkin. 'What has happened to you? Tea parties with little girls? Fishing with young boys? Shredding your face? Good God, man, you don't know the first thing about shaving. Or fishing for that matter. You're lucky you didn't slit your throat. Or drown in the stream. Do you even know how to swim?'

Insulted, Stephen said, 'Of course I know how to swim.'

Justin burst out laughing again.

'Justin.' The warning in Stephen's voice was unmistakable.

'Yes?'

'The only reason I haven't flung you head first into the vegetable garden is because my ass is permanently wedged in this goddamn tiny chair. I may never rise again. However, if I do, rest assured I'll make you sorry for your disrespect.'

Justin bit into his cookie, clearly unconcerned with Stephen's threats. 'I doubt it. I could blackmail you for every pound you're worth with what I've seen today. These are delicious cookies, by the way.' He tossed a broad wink at Stephen.

Callie returned with a fresh pot of tea, and the group polished off cup after cup, or sip after sip, of the hot brew and another plate of cookies. When the teapot was finally drained, Callie stood. 'Thank you so much for coming to my tea party,' she said with a curtsy. She lifted Miss Josephine Chilton-Jones from her chair, hugging the doll to her chest. 'I must put Miss Josephine in for her nap now. Good afternoon, gentlemen.' With a polite nod, she left the patio.

Stephen and Justin looked at each other. Finally Stephen sighed and spoke. 'I have to get out of this chair. I feel an incredible cramp coming on.'

Justin wiggled his bottom experimentally. 'My ass is stuck between the armrests.'

Stephen tried to stand and couldn't. 'Well, this is a devil of a mess,' he grumbled. 'And to top it off, I desperately need to relieve myself. I must have drunk forty-three cups of tea.'

Justin laughed. 'Forty-seven, but who's counting?'

'Why are you sitting there like that?' Andrew asked, stepping onto the patio. He gaped at the two men, a look of horror coming over his face. 'Ye Gods! Callie got you at one of her tea parties, didn't she?'

A rueful grimace tilted one corner of Stephen's lips. 'I'm afraid so.'

Justin leaned forward and peered up at the boy. 'I say, Andrew, what on earth happened to your face?'

Andrew touched his scab-dotted cheek and shot Stephen a shy smile. 'Mr. Barrettson taught me how to shave.'

'Mr. Barrettson taught you?' Justin shook his head. 'Good God, boy, you're lucky you lived to tell the tale. Stephen doesn't know the first thing about-'

'Ahem!' Stephen shot his friend a silencing, killing glare then turned to Andrew. 'How about helping us up?'

'Glad to,' Andrew said. He leaned over and helped first Stephen, then Justin to extricate their hips from the tiny chairs, taking care not to break them.

Justin held one of the chairs aloft after it was removed from his bottom. 'Sturdy little chair. It's amazing it withstood my weight.'

'Thank you, Andrew,' Stephen said, rubbing a cramp from his thigh.

Andrew shot both men a knowing grin. 'Glad to help. I've attended more than one of Callie's tea parties. I'm quite familiar with those ghastly little chairs.' He picked up a cookie from the nearly empty plate, stuffed the whole thing into his mouth, and sauntered off into the house.

Justin picked up his package and urged, 'Come along, Stephen. Let's get away from here before anything else happens to us.'

Stephen nodded his agreement, and they headed down a stone path away from the house. After walking a good distance, they stopped and sat down on a wooden bench.

'Where are the other Albrights today?' Justin asked, leaning back and stretching his legs out in front of him.

'Hayley, Pamela, and Aunt Olivia went to the village, and Nathan is resting in his room. He took a spill from a tree yesterday.'

'Is he all right?' Justin asked.

'Yes, but the doctor wants him to stay in bed today.' A chuckle escaped Stephen. 'I think the confinement is killing the lad.'

Justin eyed his friend speculatively. 'You seem to be fitting in here quite well,' he said, his tone nonchalant. 'When we last spoke you seemed to feel the Albright children were unruly, loud hooligans.'

'They are unruly, loud hooligans. I've merely grown somewhat accustomed to them.' He smiled inwardly, thinking of Callie's enchanting, delighted smile when he'd agreed to attend her tea party. In spite of the tiny chairs, he'd enjoyed himself, and the child's happiness warmed him in a way he'd never before felt.

'The children are a bit rough around the edges,' Stephen remarked, 'but they're all kindhearted.' Actually, they're wonderful. His gaze drifted to the package resting at Justin's feet. 'Are those the things I asked you to bring?'

Justin nodded and handed the package to Stephen. 'Yes.'

'Excellent. I'm in desperate need of additional clothing.' He ruefully thought of his breeches with the split up the back.

Justin cocked a single brow. 'Indeed? Is that why you requested I bring you a gown? A pale aqua muslin gown?