Red Roses Mean Love

'That wasn't me, you stupid fool.' Each word dripped venom. 'Those imbeciles I hired couldn't do anything right. That is why I'm going to do it myself. So I'll be sure you're really dead.'

Stephen made a great show of looking around. 'And where is my dear brother? Come on out, Gregory. Are you skulking about in the bushes?'

A bark of bitter laughter filled the air. 'Your brother is nothing more than a drunken parasite feeding off me. He hasn't the brains to kill anyone.'

'Then you're not doing this for him?' Stephen watched her closely, waiting for his opportunity to grab her weapon.

She stared at him as if he'd lost his mind. 'Why on earth would I do anything for Gregory. I loathe him. This is for me. Me! Once you're dead, Gregory will inherit the title and the estates and I shall be a marchioness. And when your father finally dies, I shall become a duchess. The members of Society will no longer scorn and dismiss me as the inconvenient, unattractive, mousy, nobody wife of the second son of a duke.'

Her gaze burned into Stephen, her hatred palatable, her voice shaking with fury. 'I shall be the reigning queen of the ton. Everyone will seek my friendship, curry my favor. No one will overlook or ignore me. Never again will I be subjected to the humiliation of being Gregory's ugly wife, a woman to be pitied. I will wield power and influence.' Her eyes narrowed to slits. 'And I shall no longer be forced to endure Gregory's indifference. Instead I'll have many lovers, all of them vying for my favors, eager to please me.'

Stephen realized his best chance of survival rested in keeping her talking. 'Tell me, Melissa, if you were so bloody eager for a title, why didn't you just marry one? Why settle for Gregory?'

'I had no choice in the matter. My father arranged the union. At first I was ecstatic, grateful to finally escape my family. Did you know I have three older sisters?'

Stephen shook his head. 'No.'

'Of course you didn't know. No one knows. No one ever takes the time to speak to me. I'm not beautiful. I don't possess a sparkling wit or musical talent. I'm ugly and clumsy and shy and therefore easily dismissed. Insignificant.'

She fastened glittering eyes on him. 'My three sisters are all very beautiful. Beautiful and talented. Men flocked to them in droves and my parents afforded them all wonderful debuts and opened the house to their scores of suitors. They each had their pick of men.

'I have been ignored, pushed aside, shoved away, ridiculed and hidden my entire life. I thought my life would change when I married Gregory, but it's become worse. I knew he only married me for my money, but I'd hoped…'Her voice trailed off and Stephen thought he detected a glimmer of tears in her eyes. But when she resumed talking, her tone was hard as granite.

'Gregory despises me, and he takes every opportunity to tell me so. He humiliates me by flaunting his women in front of me, as if I don't matter-as if I am nothing. I'd hoped for a child, but your brother refuses to touch me.' She took a step forward. 'He's made a mistake. You've all made a mistake. And after tonight, everything I've always wanted, everything that's always been denied me, everything I deserve will be mine.' Gripping the pistol in both hands, she leveled it at Stephen's chest.

Stephen remained perfectly still, his mind curiously blank. She was far enough away that he couldn't disarm her, and close enough to easily kill him if her aim was true. He noted her hands were perfectly steady.

'Any last words?' she asked in a mocking voice.

An image of Hayley flashed in his mind. She was the only good thing that had ever happened to him, and she was completely lost to him. The thought of fighting for his life, a life that was meaningless and empty, filled him with a resigned weariness. Why fight for a life that wasn't worth living?

A bitter half-smile tugged at his lips. 'I hope the titles and prestige bring you more happiness than they've brought me.'

Melissa aimed the pistol. 'Goodbye, Stephen,' she said in a pleasant voice, the same voice she might have used to ask if he wanted a cup of tea.

Then she pulled the trigger.

SHAPE * MERGEFORMAT

Chapter 27

Hayley stood and began the long trek back to the house. She'd been walking several minutes when she heard muted voices. At first she thought nothing of it, feeling only annoyance that she might run into someone and be forced into conversation, something she was definitely not feeling up to at the moment. All she wanted to do was leave this horrid party and get back to Halstead as quickly as possible.

She walked quietly down the path, hoping not to disturb the people she heard talking nearby. As she drew closer, however, snippets of words reached her ears. Surprise. Care. Pistol. Obvious. Kill.

The word kill brought her up short. She paused, straining her ears. The voices were coming from the other side of the hedge. She crept closer, realizing that one voice belonged to a woman and the other to a man. Her eyes widened when she heard the man speak again. And where is my dear brother? Come on out, Gregory. Are you skulking about in the bushes?

Hayley immediately recognized Stephen's voice. Crouching down, she peered through the bushes, straining her eyes against the darkness. Stephen sat on a bench, perhaps twenty feet away. He was speaking to a woman whose back was to Hayley.

She listened to their conversation, her horror growing with each passing second. Dear God, if I don't do something, that woman will shoot Stephen. She stood and desperately looked around. The house was too far away for her to run to get help. This madwoman could pull the trigger any second. She tried to calm her breathing and keep her wits about her while racking her brain for a plan. Peering through the bushes again, she saw the woman level the pistol at Stephen's chest.

'Any last words?' the woman asked in a mocking tone. Hayley took a deep breath. It was now or never.

She plunged into the hedges.

* * *

'Oof!' The air rushed from Hayley's lungs as she hit the grass, the woman beneath her. The spent pistol flew from the woman's hand as they hit the ground. The woman grunted and tried to move, but Hayley held her down.

'Get off me,' the woman growled, struggling to move.

'I don't think so,' Hayley said through gritted teeth. She sat on her prisoner's back, holding her shoulders down with her arms. Looking around, she was relieved to see the pistol laying several yards away. Her gaze moved to the bench where she'd last seen Stephen, and her heart stopped.

He lay unmoving, face down in the grass.

'No! Dear God, no.' Her agonized plea filled the air. She immediately forgot about the woman underneath her. She jumped to her feet and ran toward Stephen. Dropping to her knees, she gently turned him over and gasped. His face was covered with blood, and more blood poured from a wound on his temple, filling her nostrils with a metallic stench. Afraid even to breathe, she laid her hand on his chest and almost swooned with relief when she felt his heart beating against her palm.

'Stephen, dear God, Stephen, can you hear me?' She gently touched his face with trembling fingers. He stared at her for several heartbeats, his gaze searching her face, then his eyes slowly drifted closed.

'Stephen!' Hayley shouted, her voice an anguished cry. Out of the corner of her eye she caught a movement. She whipped her head around and saw the madwoman advancing toward her, pulling a small gleaming pistol from the folds in her skirt. A black wave of hatred, like nothing she'd ever felt before, engulfed Hayley. She gently lowered Stephen's head to the ground, then stood and faced the woman approaching her.