"Your 'offence is rank, it smells to heaven!'" Splash!

"'Something is rotten in the state of Denmark!'" Splash!

"'My nose is in great indignation!'" Splash!

"'You have a blasting and scandalous odor!'" Splash!

Stephen shook his head in amazement. They were all candidates for Bedlam. But damn it, their hilarity was contagious. Throwing his head back, he laughed until his sides ached. He just couldn't help himself. The group of them, from the supposedly adult Hayley down to little Callie, were soaked, bedraggled and obviously enjoying themselves to the limit.

"Mr. Barrettson! Mr. Barrettson! You're the wart-nosed goblin!" Callie ran to Stephen and grabbed his hand, tugging him forward. "Come on! You're missing all the fun!"

Stephen hesitated. Frolic about in a lake? In one's clothes? He'd never done anything so undignified in his entire life. It was one thing to watch them and quite another to participate.

Callie tugged again. "Don't be afraid, Mr. Barrettson. It's only water."

He drew himself up. "I'm not afraid."

Leaning closer, she confided in an undernote, "If Winston were here, he'd say 'get yer bloody self wet. Yer arse won't melt.' That's what he tells Andrew and Nathan when they don't want to take their baths."

A bark of horrified laughter nearly choked him. Half appalled, half amused, he shifted his feet and debated if he should correct her. Callie clearly interpreted the movement as a sign of capitulation. She yanked on his hand, and he gave in. What the hell. No one will ever know. He allowed Callie to pull him forward into the lake. The instant he joined the others, a wall of water hit him in the face, shocking him, leaving him sputtering.

"Oops!" Hayley flashed him an unrepentant grin. Determined to regain his dignity, Stephen issued a low growl and plunged his hands into the water, and splashed for all he was worth. His bruised ribs protested the movement, but he ignored the discomfort, intent on regaining his honor. Callie and Andrew sided with Stephen against Nathan, Pamela, and Hayley, and soon all-out war was waged.

After nearly half an hour Hayley called a cease-fire. "Halt!" she gasped, puffing with exertion.

Stephen remained bent over, arms beneath the surface of the water, ready to pounce. His eyes narrowed on the opposing troops. "Are you surrendering?"

"Yes. I give up. I can't go on," Hayley said, pushing her soaking hair from her forehead.

"Nor I," panted Pamela.

"But, Hayley!" protested Nathan. "I'm not ready to surrender."

Hayley rumpled the boy's hair. "Part of being a successful leader is knowing when you're beaten. We shall be victorious next time."

"We accept your surrender," Stephen said solemnly. The opposing forces shook hands all around and sloshed out of the water, laughing and dripping.

They'd just reached the shore when a man's voice came from beyond the thick copse of trees.

"Hello? Is that you, Miss Albright?"

Everyone's attention focused on a group of people emerging from the forest.

"Good heavens, Hayley, it's Dr. Wentbridge," Pamela gasped in a distressed undertone. "Whatever will he think when he sees me in such a state? Oh dear."

"Come quickly." Hayley grabbed Pamela's hand and hurried her back to the quilt. She yanked the blanket from the ground and vigorously shook the leaves from it. "We cannot do anything about your hair, but at least we can hide your gown." Hayley wrapped the quilt around Pamela, brushed a soggy curl from her sister's wet, flushed face, then turned to greet the newcomers.

Stephen and the young Albrights joined Hayley and Pamela just as two gentlemen and a woman approached. When the newcomers were several yards away, they paused.

"Miss Albright!" said the shorter man. "What manner of tragedy has befallen you?"

Stephen looked the speaker up and down. He was a handsome young man with light brown hair and concerned blue eyes. Stephen noticed the young man's gaze settle on Pamela, who immediately flushed a delicate shade of pink. Turning his attention back to Hayley, Stephen was surprised that her face appeared pale and that she remained uncharacteristically silent. Her attention was focused on the other gentleman in the trio.

The other young man was also quite handsome, with blond hair and light blue eyes. Stephen stiffened when he saw him scrutinize the way Hayley's wet gown clung to her curves. His gaze flicked to the woman standing between the two men. She was quite attractive, in a petulant sort of way.

Hayley cleared her throat. "We were playing with the dogs and ended up in the lake, I'm afraid."

"How unfortunate, but so very like you, Hayley dear," the woman said, her small nose wrinkling. Stephen watched her haughty gaze wander over the group and come to rest on him. Her hazel eyes grew round with surprise, then narrowed with interest. "I believe some introductions are in order, Hayley," the supercilious beauty murmured, her eyes taking in every aspect of Stephen's wet appearance and apparently liking what she saw.

"Introductions?" Hayley followed the woman's glance and saw Stephen. "Oh, yes, of course. This is Mr. Stephen Barrettson from London. He is our guest for the next several weeks." Hayley nodded toward the woman. "Mr. Barrettson, may I present Mrs. Lorelei Smythe, a neighbor from the village," she intoned without a lick of enthusiasm.

Stephen bowed formally over the woman's extended hand. "A pleasure, Mrs. Smythe."

"Indeed, Mr. Barrettson," Mrs. Smythe agreed in a silky voice, her knowing eyes once again traveling down Stephen's wet length.

Hayley continued her introductions. "This is Dr. Marshall Wentbridge, another neighbor from the village. Marshall recently finished his studies and is now a physician. He paid a visit when you were ill."

Marshall Wentbridge extended his hand to Stephen in a friendly fashion. "I'm pleased to see you looking so well, Mr. Barrettson. You've obviously already met Winky, Pinky, and Stinky," he said with a wry twist of his lips.

"Sad, but true," Stephen agreed with a grimace.

Stephen released Dr. Wentbridge's hand and turned his attention to the blond man. Much to Stephen's annoyance, this man was staring directly at Hayley's breasts. A frown tugged between Stephen's brows.

He waited for Hayley to speak, and was surprised at how pinched her voice sounded when she spoke. "Mr. Barrettson, may I introduce you to another neighbor from the village. This is Mr. Jeremy Popplemore."

The name slammed into Stephen like a fist to his midsection. Jeremy Popplemore. He forced his face to remain expressionless as he scrutinized the man who had deserted Hayley.

Jeremy extended his hand. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Barrettson," he said in a somewhat perfunctory fashion, his attention clearly on Hayley.

Stephen stepped in front of Hayley, completely blocking her from Jeremy Popplemore's inquisitive eyes, and shook his hand in an equally perfunctory manner.

"Well, it's been lovely seeing all of you," Hayley said, leaning around Stephen's shoulders, "but as you can plainly see, we're all a bit indisposed. We really must get back to the house. Please excuse us." She turned, grabbed Callie's hand, and started to walk away. She'd gone only two steps when Lorelei Smythe's voice halted her.

"Before you go, Hayley dear, I must tell you why we sought you out." She handed Hayley a folded piece of paper, sealed with red wax. "This is an invitation for you and Pamela to attend a small party at my home a week from today, honoring Jeremy's happy return to Halstead. I do so hope you'll be able to attend." She turned to Stephen. "I hope you will still be in Halstead, Mr. Barrettson. I'd be delighted to have you." A slow smile curved her lips and her eyes wandered over the muscles visible beneath Stephen's soaked shirt.

Stephen clearly read the look of warm invitation in the woman's gaze. She looked like she wanted to have him for lunch.

Determined to be pleasant to Hayley's neighbors, Stephen inclined his head. "It would be an honor to attend."

"Excellent." Her gaze lingered on Stephen before turning back to Hayley. "I hope you'll have managed to dry off by then, Hayley," she said with a throaty laugh. She then linked a hand through each of her escort's arms. "Come, gentlemen. Let us get back to the village before those beastly dogs return."

The two men said goodbye, and Stephen was amused by the way Marshall Wentbridge's gaze clung to Pamela until the very last second. He was, however, highly unamused by the way Jeremy Popplemore's gaze clung to Hayley until the very last second.

Very highly unamused.


* * *

"Hayley, wait."

Stephen hadn't meant the request to sound like a command, but he was unable to hide his irritation.

She turned toward him, eyebrows raised in question. The rest of the bedraggled group continued along the path toward the house. "What is it, Stephen?"

His gaze wandered down her soaking-wet clinging dress, and pure male lust slammed into him. Heat pumped through his veins and his temper flared. "We need to discuss your lack of… propriety."

Her eyebrows shot up farther. "I beg your pardon?"

"That man, that Popplecart person-"

"Popplemore."

"Indeed. He nearly swallowed his tongue when he saw your gown plastered to your body in what can only be described as an indecent manner."

Her face flamed. "Surely you are mistaken. Jeremy has never treated me disrespectfully."

"The hell he hasn't. He undressed you with his eyes not five minutes ago." And damn it, so did I. His annoyance exploded into full-blown anger. "Your attire is nothing short of scandalous. If you're not sashaying about in skintight breeches-"