Red Roses Mean Love

doing just that, his pesky inner voice interrupted. Leave her be. She deserves to be happy, and if Popplepuss is the man to do it, don't interfere. You're leaving Halstead tomorrow. You'll never see her again. Don't ruin what might be her last and only chance for happiness.

Stephen took a deep breath and forced his body to relax, to let go of the hot rush of jealousy washing over him at the thought of Hayley with another man. She wasn't his. He had no right to deny her being with someone else. In fact, the kindest thing he could do for her would be to urge her in Jeremy's direction. The very thought cramped his insides. Bloody hell, I don't think I'm capable of being that kind.

'Would you mind getting me another glass of wine?' Lorelei asked in husky voice.

Stephen jerked his attention back to her. There was no mistaking the look of warm invitation in her eyes. The best way to encourage Hayley to spend the evening with Poppledart would be for Stephen to occupy himself elsewhere.

'A glass of wine. Of course.' He headed across the room toward the decanters, glad to divert his attention from his torturous thoughts.

* * *

Hayley smiled on the outside all during dinner, but on the inside she was positively seething. Lorelei sat at the head of the table, with Jeremy on her right and Stephen on her left. Sitting next to Jeremy and across from Stephen, Hayley watched in an agony of misery as Lorelei flirted outrageously with him all through dinner, her eyes smiling at him, her cleavage pressing against his arm.

But what hurt more, Stephen flirted right back. His slow, devastating smile slid over Lorelei, his green eyes assessing her with a warm, admiring look that made Hayley want to scream.

She tried to deny it, but she was jealous. Totally, absolutely, disgustingly green with jealousy. Every time Lorelei's throaty laugh reached Hayley's ears, and every time the intimate rumble of Stephen's voice washed over her, Hayley wanted to throw something. She'd never felt so miserable and out of place in her life.

In desperation, she turned her attention to Jeremy, unable to listen to or watch Stephen and Lorelei any longer. Jeremy was amusing, solicitous, and very complimentary all through dinner. Hayley spoke briefly to Marshall, but Pamela sat on Marshall's other side, so the doctor's attention was riveted elsewhere.

Hayley tried to enjoy the sumptuous meal of roast pheasant, creamed peas, and an assortment of fish, but every bite tasted like ashes. For the sake of her pride, she did her best to converse with Jeremy, but her heart was not in it. Peeking across the table, she watched Lorelei trail a lazy fingertip down Stephen's sleeve. He answered the gesture by touching his wineglass to hers.

No, Hayley's heart was definitely not in it. Her heart was breaking.

SHAPE * MERGEFORMAT

Chapter 20

After dinner there was dancing in the drawing room. While everyone was eating, the footmen had pushed the furniture back and a three-piece orchestra had set themselves up in a corner of the large room.

Jeremy held out his hand. 'May I have the honor of this dance, Hayley?'

Hayley didn't want to dance. She wanted to go home. She wanted to take off this cursed gown and fling it in the face of the scoundrel who had given it to her.

Forcing a smile, she said, 'Of course,' and took Jeremy's hand. They danced a quadrille, and Hayley momentarily forgot her anger as she concentrated on the intricate steps. At the end of the dance, Jeremy left her side to fetch her a glass of punch.

Hayley's eyes skimmed the room. A smile touched her lips when she noticed Pamela and Marshall laughing together near the orchestra. Joy radiated from Pamela's face, and Hayley felt truly happy for her.

Then her gaze happened to stray to the French windows. Her smile froze when she noticed Stephen slipping out the door leading to the gardens. Seconds later, after casting a quick, surreptitious look around the room, Lorelei slipped out the same door.

'That does it,' Hayley muttered under her breath. So angry she could barely speak, and so heartbroken she could barely breathe, she made her way across the room to where Pamela and Marshall stood.

'Marshall, would you be so kind as to escort Pamela home this evening? I'm feeling unwell and wish to leave.'

A look of concern immediately crossed Marshall's face. 'You're a bit pale,' he agreed. 'Is it your stomach? Would you like me to mix you a draught?'

Hayley shook her head, desperate to get away. 'No, actually it's my head.' Or rather it's my heart. 'I can make a draught myself when I get home. I just need to know that you'll safely see Pamela home.'

'I'll come with you,' Pamela said quickly, her concern evident.

Hayley turned to Pamela and took her hands. 'Please stay,' she implored. 'I truly want you to enjoy the party. But I must go.' Her voice dropped to an agonized whisper. 'I must go.' Now. Immediately. Before I cry and make a fool of myself.

'I'll walk you to the door,' Pamela said, taking Hayley's arm. They walked to the foyer, where they waited for the footman to bring around the gig.

'I know what is bothering you, Hayley. I see how she's throwing herself at Mr. Barrettson. But that doesn't mean he's-'

'They're out on the terrace together,' Hayley said in a broken whisper.

'Oh, Hayley.' Pamela gathered her into her arms and hugged her fiercely. Hayley almost smiled when she heard Pamela breathe a Winston-like obscenity.

'Enjoy your evening with Marshall,' Hayley said, pulling back from Pamela's embrace. 'I want to hear all about it in the morning.'

The footman announced the gig, and Hayley walked swiftly outside. She climbed onto the seat, took the reins, and set Samson off at a brisk trot. She didn't allow the tears to fall until she was well away from Lorelei Smythe's house.

* * *

'Where's Hayley?' Stephen asked Pamela nearly half an hour later.

He'd stepped outside to smoke a cheroot and almost immediately found himself in Lorelei's company. Stephen had stifled a curse. The woman was not only bothersome, she was tenacious as well. She reminded him of the women of the ton he abhorred. He'd tolerated her company for most of the evening, but he'd had enough. He smoked his cheroot, ignoring her idle chitchat, and left her in a very abrupt manner, his cigar not even halfway finished.

When he reentered the drawing room, his eyes had searched for Hayley, but he was unable to find her. He spotted Jeremy across the room, but Hayley was nowhere in sight. He finally approached Pamela, who stood alone by the window.

'I find it amazing that you'd ask about Hayley's whereabouts, Mr. Barrettson,' Pamela responded in a frigid voice.

Stephen stared at her, unable to mask his surprise at her frosty tone. 'Why would you find it amazing?'

She shot him a look of utter disgust. 'Perhaps because you've seen fit to ignore her for the entire evening up to this point.'

'She hardly lacked for company,' Stephen said mildly.

'You humiliated her in front of that hateful woman,' Pamela said, her eyes spitting blue fury. 'Hayley has shown you nothing but kindness. How could you be so cruel to her?'

Guilt swept over him. He hadn't meant to hurt her. He'd only tried to do what was best for her. Stay away and