let another man-a man who wasn't leaving-pay attention to her.
'I assure you, it was never my intention to hurt her.'
'But you have. You've hurt her terribly.'
'Tell me where she is, and I'll apologize.'
'She's left.'
Stephen stared at Pamela. 'I beg your pardon?'
'She's gone home. I suppose you didn't notice her departure because you were too busy out on the terrace with Mrs. Smythe.' She looked Stephen up and down once, her expression clearly registering dislike. 'Quite frankly, Mr. Barrettson, I'm surprised at you. Up until this evening I believed you were a kind, thoughtful man. A man worthy of Hayley's admiration. Obviously I was mistaken.' She turned to leave, but Stephen caught her arm.
In truth, he was stunned by her little speech. It seemed he was destined to receive severe trimmings from the Albright women. But his surprise was overshadowed by the acute sense of loss he felt. It bothered him no end that Pamela was looking at him as if he were horse dung in the road. She must be very angry indeed, for such a display of temper.
And the thought of Hayley hurting because of him, of her no longer holding him in high esteem, constricted his chest with regret. It truly pained him to think that either of these women felt badly toward him. Especially Hayley.
'You were not mistaken,' he said softly. 'I assure you I hold your sister in the highest regard and I would never intentionally hurt her.'
Pamela's gaze did not soften a bit. 'Then why did you-'
'I don't know.' A rueful smile lifted one corner of his mouth. 'I'm an ass.'
Pamela regarded him steadily, her eyes unforgiving. 'You won't hear an argument from me,' she said with brutal honesty. 'But you're telling the wrong Miss Albright.' She pulled her arm from Stephen's fingers. 'Please, excuse me.'
Stephen watched Pamela walk over to Marshall. The orchestra struck up another tune, and the two headed for the dance floor. Stephen strode into the foyer and quickly left the house.
The forty-five minute walk back to Albright Cottage afforded Stephen a much-needed opportunity to think.
He knew that for Hayley's sake he'd done the right thing this evening, but he still felt like a bastard. She'd looked so beautiful, her face flushed and shining with happiness, so incredibly lovely in her new gown. He'd wanted so badly to touch her, to kiss her, to sweep her up in his arms and carry her off to a private place where they could be alone.
But how could he do that when he was leaving in the morning? He was a bastard, but not that much of a bastard.
The thought of his imminent departure filled him with emptiness, and his heart pinched in his chest. He'd grown very fond of the Albrights in his brief stay with them. All of them.
But especially fond of Hayley.
Deeply cared for her.
He entered the house. Grimsley was not at the door, so Stephen assumed the footman had gone to bed. He looked in the library and study for Hayley, but both were empty so he assumed she'd retired. He'd wait and talk to her before he left in the morning. That way he'd have tonight to find the right words to say, although he doubted they existed.
Climbing the stairs, he loosened his neckcloth. When he entered his bedchamber, he quickly removed his jacket, tossing it and his cravat on a wing chair next to the fire. He was in the process of unfastening his shirt when he glanced toward the bed. His fingers stilled, and he stared.
The gown he'd given Hayley lay across the coverlet.
As if in a trance, he approached the bed. The beautiful gown was carefully spread out, a single sheet of paper on top of the material. In a neat pile next to the garment lay the chemise, stockings, and slippers. Reaching out, he picked up the note.
Stephen read the note again, the pressure in his chest increasing until it felt as if a pianoforte lay on top of him. She was dismissing him. She had given him back his gift and wanted him gone before she returned from her visit to another village.
His head knew she was doing the wise thing. It was better this way. When she returned from her journey, he'd be gone. No painful goodbye. No admitting his lies.
His heart, however, knew he couldn't leave like this.
Without knowing what he was going to say to her, Stephen scooped up the gown and accessories, left his bedchamber, and closed the door softly behind him.
SHAPE * MERGEFORMAT
Chapter 21
He heard the weeping as soon as he neared her bedchamber. Stephen knocked softly, but when his knock went unanswered, he gently turned the knob. The door was unlocked. He let himself into the room, closing the door behind him.
Hayley stood by the window, her back to him, her face buried in her hands.
Her quiet sobs shattered his heart. 'Hayley.'
With a startled sound she turned around, her drenched eyes widening with shock. She wiped away her tears, with shaking fingers. 'What are you doing here?'
'I came to return your gift.'
She stared at the clothes for a moment, then her face hardened and she turned her back. 'I told you I cannot accept your gift. Now, please leave.'
He placed the bundle on a chair. 'You've already accepted it.'
'That was before,' she said in a tight voice.
'Yes,' Stephen agreed, coming to stand directly behind her. 'That was before I behaved like an ass. Before I ignored you. Before I hurt you.' He placed his hands on her shoulders and turned her around. She resisted him at first, but he applied firm pressure until she finally turned. Although she faced him, she continued to stare at the floor.
'Look at me, Hayley.' Placing his fingers under her chin, he lifted her face. Tears had left silver tracks down her creamy cheeks, and her eyes were awash with a fresh supply.
His throat tightened as a single tear traveled down her face. 'I behaved badly this evening. Please forgive me. I swear I never meant to hurt you.'
She took a deep breath and swallowed. 'I don't understand,' she whispered in a shaking voice. 'Why did you go to her?' A broken sob escaped her throat. 'I wore a proper gown. I dressed my hair, behaved in a proper
