He could think of nothing else.

He could have had her.

If his bloody conscience hadn't intervened, he could, this very minute, be buried deep between her soft thighs, touching her rose-scented skin, kissing her lips, relieving the tight ache in his groin.

When the hell did I develop a conscience anyway? And what a bloody inconvenient time for it to come alive. Sinking down in a wing chair, he stared broodingly into the fire until the embers barely glowed. After an hour of soul-searching, he was only able to determine two things.

One, no matter how he tried to deny it, and no matter how hard he tried to talk himself out of it, he wanted Hayley Albright with an intensity that shocked him. She affected him as no woman ever had before.

And two, the only reason he wasn't with her right now, buried deep inside her, was because he cared about her too much to take her innocence and leave her with nothing when he departed.

He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head.

God damn it. He cared. He didn't want to, but he did.

He wished he didn't desire her to the point of distraction, but he did.

He desperately wished he could take her and walk away without a thought, but he couldn't.

Turning his head, he stared at the single yellow rose lying on the small table next to his chair. He picked up the withered bloom, touching the petals with hesitant fingers.

Even with a killer after him, he somehow suspected he was safer in London.

He really had to get away from here.

And the sooner the better.

SHAPE \* MERGEFORMAT

Chapter 13

Hayley entered the kitchen late the next morning. "Where is everyone?" she asked Pierre. She'd spent a restless, sleepless night, not dozing off until dawn. Now she desperately wanted some coffee.

"Your sisters go with aunt, Weenston, and Grimsley to zee market," Pierre answered, kneading dough. "Zee boys take Monsieur Barrettson fishing."

"Fishing?" Hayley asked, surprised.

Pierre nodded. "They left after early breakfast."

After enjoying a quick cup of coffee, Hayley pilfered a piece of fresh bread and wandered into the study. The house was blessedly quiet, and if she could manage to keep her thoughts away from Stephen, she could probably get some writing done.

Closing the door behind her, she sat down at her desk and pulled her papers from the bottom drawer. She tried to concentrate, but her efforts proved fruitless. All she could think about was last night. She was torn between utter shame and incredulous wonder. The sensation of Stephen's hands on her, touching her, caressing her, was like nothing she'd ever experienced. She had not wanted him to stop, but he'd pulled away from her without an explanation. In fact, he'd seemed upset with her. No doubt because of her shocking, wanton behavior.

Hayley pondered that, and after nearly an hour of staring at a blank piece of paper, she was able to determine only two things.

One, she wanted Stephen Barrettson with an intensity that shocked her.

And two, the only reason she was still a virgin this morning was because he had stopped last night. She'd wanted to continue, eager to explore and learn more about the incredible new feelings bombarding her.

She squeezed her eyes closed and shook her head. He was leaving in two weeks to take a job with a family that lived far away from Halstead. Her heart all but split in two at the thought.

She really had to stay away from him.


* * *

Justin Mallory sat in his private study, staring at the note he'd just opened. He reread the terse missive three times, his brows alternately furrowing and raising.

"You look very perplexed, darling," Victoria said as she entered the room. Justin quickly tucked the note into his waistcoat pocket and smiled at his wife.

"Just a puzzling message from a business associate," Justin said smoothly. He rose and walked to Victoria, enfolding her petite body in his arms and dropping a light kiss on her smooth brow.

Until he'd met Victoria, Justin had thought himself quite the impervious bachelor. But he soon found himself done in by a mere wisp of a young woman with bright green eyes, dark brown hair, and a smile that could melt snowcaps in January.

"I was hoping to coax you into taking me to Regent Street," Victoria said, leaning back in the circle of his arms. "I've been cooped up in this house for days."

"You could coax the stars from the sky, my sweet," Justin murmured, kissing her upturned mouth. "I need a few hours to take care of several things and then I shall be at your disposal."

"Thank you, darling." Victoria stood on tiptoe, brushed her lips against his jaw and left the room, closing the door softly behind her.

As soon as he was alone again, Justin retrieved the note from his pocket and scanned it again. Along with a request for more clothing, Stephen was asking for some highly unusual things. And he didn't even ask how Justin's investigation was going. Just a terse note demanding a list of strange items he wanted delivered the day after tomorrow. Justin chuckled to himself. He could hardly wait until he saw Stephen again so he could find out how his friend was doing at Albright Cottage.

If Stephen's list of required items was any indication, his visit was proving most unusual.

Now if Justin could only figure out how to procure the needed items, all would be well.


* * *

"Look at all these fish I caught!" Stephen stomped into Hayley's garden, halting in front of her, a lopsided grin on his face. "Just look at them! Have you ever seen such a fine catch?"

Hayley stood, wiped her hands on her skirt and examined the group of puny fish hanging from a string in Stephen's hand. "Very impressive," she agreed, struggling to keep a straight face. "You're obviously an expert fisherman."

Stephen's eyes narrowed suspiciously, clearly unsure if she was laughing at him or not. "You're not making fun of me, are you?" His voice resembled a threatening growl.

Her eyes widened in total innocence. "I? Make fun of you? A man who is obviously the finest fisherman to ever grace the shores of England? Perish the thought."

"I'll have you know that I'm quite proud of myself." He leaned close to Hayley, and she stifled a giggle. He stunk like dead fish. "This was my very first fishing expedition."

"He fell in the water two times," chimed in Andrew, as he and Nathan made their way into the garden.

Her gaze dropped to his ribs. "Did you hurt yourself?"

"A few twinges, nothing more. And I did not fall in. These hooligans pushed me," Stephen informed Hayley, pointing an accusing finger at the two laughing boys. "You really need to teach these boys some manners," he added in an undertone, winking broadly.

"You've never been fishing before?" Hayley asked in surprise.

"Never. I'm a tutor, not a fisherman. The opportunity never presented itself. Until now. And I did a fine job of it, if I may say so myself." He held his string aloft and bestowed an admiring glance on his paltry catch.

Hayley looked at the three of them and shook her head. She was not sure exactly what had transpired on their fishing expedition, but it was evident that they'd all enjoyed themselves. And Stephen's smile was the broadest of all.

"Come on, Mr. Barrettson," Nathan urged, tugging on Stephen's arm. "Let's give our catch to Pierre so he can get busy cooking dinner."

"I have to go now," Stephen informed Hayley with a smug grin. "Pierre is expecting us in the kitchen, you know." He flashed her a big smile and allowed Nathan to pull him along. Hayley gazed after the trio and clapped her hand over her mouth to keep from bursting out laughing as they walked away from her.

The seat of Stephen's once fine breeches was split right up the back.


* * *

"Where are you boys off to?" Hayley asked her brothers at breakfast the following morning. "We have lessons to conduct."

Andrew and Nathan sent pleading, longing looks Hayley's way. "Mr. Barrettson offered to give us our lessons today. We're on our way to the meadow. Is that all right?"

Hayley looked at Stephen in surprise. "Outdoor lessons? Is this true?"

Stephen looked at her over the rim of his coffee cup. "Yes. I must pay a debt of honor to the boys and I could teach them their lessons at the same time. If you don't mind, that is."

"No. I don't mind at all," Hayley murmured, totally confused. "What debt of honor must you pay?"

"Andrew and I made a wager the evening before last, and I lost."

Hayley's brows shot up. "You made a wager with Andrew? And lost?"

"It simply wasn't my night for wagers, I'm afraid," he said with a slow grin.

Heat flushed Hayley to the roots of her hair as she recalled the outcome of her wager with Stephen. Without further comment, she watched him and her brothers leave the room. She had no idea what to make of Stephen. Ever since their argument at the lake and their subsequent chess match two nights ago, he seemed different. Less reserved. With everyone except her. While he was unfailingly polite to her, he'd somehow erected an invisible barrier between them.

In contrast, he'd taken an interest in Andrew and Nathan's activities, first fishing with them, and now embarking on some unknown adventure together.

She'd sat through dinner the previous evening, filled with nervous anticipation, wondering if she would again find herself alone with Stephen. Her head told her to stay away from him, but her heart just as adamantly implored her to seek him out.