"Er, thank you… Aunt Olivia." To hide his confusion he sipped his coffee.

"You're looking a bit peaked this morning," Aunt Olivia remarked.

An image of Hayley flashed through his mind. "I'm afraid I didn't sleep very well."

"Oh dear. That's too bad. There are some mornings I, too, feel like hell." She shook her head sympathetically.

Stephen nearly choked on his coffee. "I said well. WELL."

A beaming smile lit her cherubic face. "Oh! I'm so glad you're well, although I'm a bit surprised to hear it. You look rather pale to me."

"I'm fine," Stephen said loudly, a desperate note creeping into his voice. All this shouting was setting his head to pounding. "Where is everyone?" he all but screamed, hoping she would understand him.

"Hayley and the children have gone to the lake to have their lessons."

"Lessons? At the lake?"

"Of course. Hayley always teaches the children outdoors if the weather permits." She leaned forward. "I stayed home to supervise the laundry woman from the village. Hayley told me she didn't know how she'd manage without me to watch over the washtub. Why, if I didn't keep an eye on the proceedings, our clothes might end up in ruins!"

A half-smile lit Stephen's lips. How like Hayley to make her aunt feel important. He finished his coffee, stood, and walked over to Aunt Olivia. When he stood directly in front of her, he took her hand, made her a formal bow, then pressed a brief kiss to the back of her fingers.

"Hayley and the children are indeed lucky to have you, Aunt Olivia." He spoke loudly, and he knew she'd heard him when a pink flush crept up her cheeks.

"Well!" She patted her hair and dropped her eyes demurely. "What a topping thing to say, Mr. Barrettson. Why, I'd wager you're more charming than the king himself." She peeked up at him, and blushed ever more furiously.

Stephen laughed. "I'm not certain charming is the best word to describe His Majesty."

Her eyes widened to saucers. "Good heavens, have you actually met him?"

"Of course." He suddenly realized what he was saying. "Not." He coughed several times. "Of course not." Damn it, he needed to remember who the hell he was, or rather, who he was supposed to be. And tutors certainly were not acquainted with King George. "If you'll excuse me, I believe I'll wander down to the lake and see the others," he said. He bowed again over her hand and left the room.

"What a delightful young man," Olivia said aloud to the empty room. "So charming. And handsome as the devil. I wonder what my niece is planning to do about it."


* * *

Stephen heard their voices before he saw them.

Pausing behind a copse of beech trees, he remained out of sight, listening for a moment.

"Excellent," came Hayley's voice. "Now, who can tell me who Brabantio was?"

"He was Desdemona's father in Othello," Nathan replied. "He strongly opposed her marriage to the Moor."

"Correct," said Hayley. "How about Goneril?"

"She was Lear's eldest, evil daughter in King Lear," Andrew answered. "That was easy, Hayley. Ask us a harder one."

"All right. Who was Demetrius?"

"The young man in love with Hermia in A Midsummer Night's Dream," said Nathan.

"No," protested Andrew. "He was a friend of Antony's in Antony and Cleopatra, right, Hayley?"

"Actually, you are both correct," said Hayley. "Shakespeare often used the same character names in more than one play."

Stephen stepped from behind the tree and said, "Demetrius was also Chiron's brother in Titus Andronicus."

Their "classroom" was a huge, moth-eaten quilt spread on the grass. Nathan and Andrew lay sprawled on their stomachs. Hayley sat with her legs folded beneath her, her brown gown surrounding her, while Pamela and Callie sat a short distance away, perched before easels, watercolor brushes in their hands.

Hayley turned at the sound of his voice. "Ste-Mr. Barrettson! What a …pleasant surprise."

"May I join you?"

She hesitated, then scooted over, making room. "Of course."

Stephen settled himself next to her. His gaze drifted over her and his heart thumped to life. The bright sun glinted on her chestnut hair, coaxing reddish highlights out of hiding, and a delicate pink flush stained her cheeks. In spite of her plain, rather ugly gown, she was absolutely breathtaking.

Holding out his hand, he presented her with a small bunch of flowers. "For you."

A slow, beautiful smile eased across her face, and his heart, quite simply, turned over.

"Pansies," she said softly. "Thank you."

He leaned closer and said in voice only she could hear, "Forgive me. I allowed things to get out of hand last evening."

Her color heightened to deep rose. "Of course."

Relief swept through him, although his better judgment told him he'd be better off with her upset at him.

"Perhaps you'd like to join in our lesson?" she invited. "I'd nearly forgotten that you are a tutor."

Her gaze drifted down to his mouth and Stephen stifled a moan. Her gaze touched him like a caress. It took him several seconds to process her comment. She'd forgotten he was a tutor. I'd forgotten I told you I was a tutor. I'm too busy remembering our kiss. With an effort, he pulled his attention away from her and looked at Nathan and Andrew.

"You boys certainly seem to know your Shakespeare," Stephen remarked, thankful he hadn't interrupted a Latin lesson.

"Do you like Shakespeare, Mr. Barrettson?" asked Andrew, his eyes alight with curiosity.

"Yes, but I always preferred the stories of King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table." He recalled, as a child, sneaking into the woods surrounding Barrett Hall, Gregory and Victoria in tow, the three of them pretending to search for the Holy Grail. It was one of very few pleasant childhood memories. The game had ended the moment his father found out about "that foolishness."

"We often pretend we're King Arthur's knights!" Nathan exclaimed. He pointed toward a clearing in the distance. "We're building a castle out of stones in the meadow over yonder. Andrew is Arthur and I am Lancelot. We're looking for a Galahad. Would you like to play?"

"As I recall, Galahad is a young man virtually without flaw," Stephen said, a mock frown on his face. "I don't believe I could fit in his shoes."

"Then how about Percival?" broke in Andrew. "He was one of the three Grail Knights."

"All right," Stephen agreed. "Percival it is." He turned to Hayley. "And what part do you play in Camelot?"

She laughed. "Pamela and I share the part of Queen Guinevere. We rarely join in the exploits. Our job is taking care of the castle and awaiting the return of our chivalrous knights."

"Callie is King Arthur's page," said Nathan.

"It certainly sounds like you have a good group to seek the Grail. When is the next expedition?" Stephen asked.

Andrew and Nathan turned hopeful eyes to Hayley. "Today, Hayley? Please?"

"Tomorrow, my good knights. No searching for the Holy Grail until we finish our lessons and chores."

Andrew and Nathan groaned, but prepared for the remainder of their lessons. Stephen observed Hayley's teaching methods with interest. She started Nathan composing a short story, invented a half-dozen complicated mathematical problems for Andrew, then instructed Callie to draw pictures of objects using every letter of the alphabet. Last, she discussed various household items with Pamela while they set up their picnic lunch. It was certainly different from the strict lessons he'd received at the hands of his forbidding private tutors.

Did this woman do anything in the conventional way? Damn it, no. She didn't. And he was beginning to suspect that was part of her appeal.

When the children finished their assignments, everyone clamored onto the quilt to eat. Hayley passed out plates of cold meat pies, chicken, fish, and cheese while Pamela cut thick slices of bread.

After the children had been served, Hayley turned to him. "I hope you're hungry, Mr. Barrettson."

"Starved," Stephen assured her, reminding himself they were discussing lunch.

"What sort of chicken do you care for?" she asked, peering into the hamper. "I have three thighs, one leg, and two wings."

"Indeed? You must have a devil of a time getting clothes to fit."

At first she seemed puzzled by his words, then, as their meaning sank in, she blushed bright red. "I didn't mean-"

"I was teasing you, Hayley," he said softly, feeling more lighthearted than he had in years. He reached around her, grabbed a chicken leg, and bit into the meat with gusto. "Delicious," he proclaimed, giving her a broad wink. By damn, being a tutor was great fun.

Leaning toward her, Stephen said, "You're blushing, Hayley. Just as you did when you said your name means 'from the hay meadow.'" He paused and lowered his gaze pointedly to her mouth. "I believe we know each other well enough now for you tell me why the meaning of your name brings such color to your cheeks."

Glancing around, he saw that Andrew and Nathan were engrossed in the unlikely combination of activities of eating meat pies and catching a grasshopper. Pamela and Callie sat on the far end of the huge quilt, eating and laughing at Andrew and Nathan's antics. "This is as alone as we'll ever be in such a crowd. Tell me," he urged.

Amusement gleamed in her eyes. "I don't want to shock you."

He waved his chicken leg with a flourish. "I am completely unshockable, I assure you."

"Very well, but don't say you weren't warned. It's an Albright family tradition to name the children in commemoration of the place or circumstances surrounding their, er, conception.