Red Roses Mean Love

without her.'

'Even if I wanted to see her again, I cannot. Not with my present situation,' Stephen said in a tired, slurred voice. 'My life is in danger. If Hayley were with me, that could place her in danger as well. If I return to Halstead now, I could place the entire Albright family at risk. If I'm followed, I'd lead a killer right to their door.'

Justin stared at him, the light of understanding dawning in his eyes. 'Good God, Stephen. You not only care for her, you fell in love with her. You're in love with Hayley Albright.'

Stephen shook his head and was immediately sorry as the movement started an instant pounding in his temples. 'That's ridiculous. Love is nothing more than pretty words men like Byron spout about.'

'Perhaps you thought so before, but I would stake any wager that you don't now.'

Stephen pried open his heavy eyelids and gazed into the fire. Images danced before him, images he'd spent the last two weeks trying to forget. But nothing helped. It didn't matter how hard he worked, or how much he drank, he couldn't erase Hayley from his mind. He pictured her laughing, playing with the children, reading to Callie, instructing the boys in Shakespeare, splashing in the lake, good-naturedly scolding her beastly dogs, wrapping Pamela up in a moth-eaten quilt to hide her wet gown from Marshall Wentbridge.

His mind rolled back over the time he had spent at Albright Cottage, and he realized it had been the happiest time of his life. The Albrights cared about him. Not his fortune or titles. They'd included him in every aspect of their lives, sharing all they had with him. He'd never felt so bloody damn good in all this life. And now it was gone.

Gone.

And damn it, he missed it.

He missed the noise, the confusion, and general chaos that reigned in Hayley's household. He missed the sound of laughter, and the warmth of smiles across the breakfast table. He missed holding Callie's little hand during the evening meal prayer. And most of all, he missed Hayley.

Dear God in heaven, how he missed her. He missed her sweetness and her kindness. He ached for the touch of her hands, the taste of her kiss, the feel of her body touching his, skin to skin, that look of love and admiration shining from her expressive eyes.

'You miss them.'

Justin's words so accurately reflected his thoughts, Stephen couldn't stop the bitter laugh that escaped him. He swallowed and nodded. 'Yes.'

He could barely force the single word of admission past the huge lump in his throat. After tossing off the remainder of his drink, he carefully placed the snifter next to the decanter on the table. He leaned forward in his chair, braced his elbows on his knees, and dropped his face into his hands. He felt empty, hollow, miserable, incredibly guilty, and more than a little drunk.

'She told me that she loved me,' he said in a raw, slurred voice, unable to stop the words. 'She said I didn't have to leave, that I could apply for a tutoring position in Halstead and be a member of the family.' He dragged his hands down his face, then clasped his fingers between his spread knees, bowing his head in abject misery.

Suddenly he raised his head and fastened his bleary gaze on Justin. 'Do you know what I did when she told me she loved me? Do you know how I repaid her for all her kindness? For saving my life? For loving me?' A bitter, humorless laugh erupted from his throat. 'I'll tell you what I did, how I repaid her. I stole her innocence, then left the next morning. Without a word. No, that is not entirely true. I left a note. In it I told her to find someone else to love.'

Justin stared at him, clearly stunned. 'You compromised Miss Albright?'

'Completely.'

Justin's eyes widened. He opened his mouth, but no words came forth.

'Nothing to say?' Stephen asked with a humorless smile. 'Have I managed to shock you?'

'Actually, yes,' Justin admitted. After a long pause he asked, 'Have you considered the possibility she might be with child?'

Stephen felt as if all the air had been sucked from the room. Hayley with child? Jesus, why hadn't he thought of that? Because I've been too miserable to think properly. 'I hadn't considered that, no.'

'And if she is?'

The brandy was dulling Stephen's mind at a rapid rate. 'I don't know. I'll make discreet inquiries in several months and find out how she is. If she's with child.'

'Good God, Stephen. I thought it a real possibility Miss Albright might fall for you, but I admit, in spite of my teasing, I never seriously believed you might fall for her.'

'She's an angel,' Stephen said, his tongue so thick he could barely speak. His eyes drifted shut. 'Beautiful Hayley, from the hay meadow. God how I miss her…' His voice trailed off and his head slumped sideways.

Justin shook his head in amazement. He couldn't believe Stephen had been reduced to such a sorry state. And he was frankly shocked by what Stephen had just admitted in his drunken stupor. I must sober him up and keep him that way or whoever is trying to kill him will surely succeed.

He grabbed Stephen under his arms and pulled him to his feet. Jesus, the man weighed a bloody ton. A bloody ton of brandy-soaked deadweight. Stephen roused himself slightly, and Justin half walked, half dragged him up the stairs. He got him into one of the guest bedchambers and plopped him unceremoniously on the bed.

Justin looked down at him, his heart pinching in pity for his friend. Based on Stephen's words and his present uncharacteristic behavior, Justin could only conclude that he was indeed in love. He wondered how long it would take Stephen to realize it. Justin could only hope it wouldn't be too late.

* * *

Victoria Mallory could not sleep.

She'd retired shortly after dinner, hoping her absence would give Justin a chance to draw Stephen out and perhaps confide whatever was bothering him.

She was greatly concerned for her brother. Ever since his return two weeks ago, he'd been different. The old Stephen was cynical, jaded, and arrogant, but he could also be charming and devilish, and he always had a kind word for her.

Now he barely spoke to anyone, and when he did, his answers were limited to clipped monosyllables. If he said more than two or three words at a time, they were accompanied by such a frigid glare, the conversation abruptly ended. When he was not glaring or brooding, he was drinking.

But the thing that alarmed Victoria the most was the look of utter weary resignation in his eyes. It was almost as if he didn't give a damn about anyone or anything.

After remaining in her bed for almost an hour, Victoria couldn't stand the inactivity a moment longer. She simply had to know what was going on. Donning her robe, she crept silently down the stairs.

She paused outside the drawing room and pressed her ear to the door. Silence. She quietly turned the knob and saw the room was empty. She moved along the hall to the library.

She crept along, the sound of her footsteps swallowed by the thick Persian runner. Pausing outside the door, she heard the distinct murmur of voices. Triumphant, and without a twinge of guilt, she dropped to her knees and peered through the keyhole. Blackness. Damnation. The key must be in the hole. She pressed her ear to the door, but the words from within were muffled and indistinct.

Not ready to admit defeat, Victoria hurried to the study. There was an adjoining door between the two rooms. With any luck, the door wouldn't be locked.

Once inside, she carefully picked her way across the room, taking care not to overturn any tables. When she reached the adjoining door, she held her breath, turning the knob in infinite degrees. To her delight, the knob turned. She carefully inched the door open and pressed her ear to the crack. Justin's voice drifted to her.

'…is drinking yourself into oblivion really the best course of action for you to take? Whoever tried to kill you is still out there, waiting for another chance. You can hardly defend yourself if you're foxed.'

Victoria's blood ran cold and she clapped a hand over her mouth to muffle her stunned gasp. Dear God, someone was trying to kill Stephen? Pressing her ear back to the crack, she listened to their entire conversation,