The plan was agreed upon, and they set out to find Andrew, Nathan, and Stephen.


* * *

"We need more rocks over here," Nathan shouted, dropping a large stone atop the rapidly growing wall.

"How many?" Andrew shouted back.

"Three or four."

"All right."

Andrew lifted a heavy stone and struggled over to where Nathan stood. Stephen hoisted an even heavier rock, grimacing at the pain in his ribs. He carried it over to the boys and placed it on top of the wall.

"How's that?" Stephen asked, wiping the sweat from his brow with his forearm.

They'd been working on King Arthur's "castle" the entire morning, hauling rocks of all sizes. The result was a very respectable fortress wall.

"It looks grand," Nathan enthused, walking around the structure. It was nearly five feet high and over twelve feet long.

"And we finished not a moment too soon," Stephen said, dropping down onto the grass. "Between my shoulder and my ribs, I'm ready to rest." He stretched out on his back, and shielded his eyes from the bright sun with his forearm.

"But now it's time to play Knights of the Round Table," Nathan protested. "We have to don our suits of armor."

Stephen groaned, and peeked out from beneath his arm at the two eager boys. "Oh, all right," he grumbled. "But first this knight needs to rest a bit." He winced as a pain shot through his overworked shoulder. "Some refreshments are in order, I think."

"We'll fetch some water from the lake," Andrew offered.

The two boys scurried off, and Stephen breathed a sigh of relief, enjoying the brief respite. The sun warmed his skin, and the gentle breeze carried the scent of wildflowers. An insect flew by and he lifted a lazy hand to swat it away. In spite of his weariness, he'd thoroughly enjoyed his morning with Andrew and Nathan, just as he'd enjoyed their company yesterday. He'd initially sought them out in a desperate attempt to avoid Hayley, but he'd quickly discovered they were bright, intelligent lads, and surprisingly well mannered in spite of their good-natured bickering. They'd taught Stephen how to fish, and laughed uproariously at his reluctance to skewer the fat, wiggly worm on the hook.

But after a few tries, Stephen had mastered the grisly task and actually enjoyed himself. He couldn't recall ever laughing so much. Young boys, Stephen decided, were not nearly so difficult as he'd previously thought. In fact, they were quite delightful to talk to and spend time with.

Today he'd helped them add on to their castle. They already had constructed several other "buildings," and Stephen couldn't help but admire the time and effort the boys had obviously devoted to their Camelot. As a child, Stephen had had very few opportunities to play. Nearly all his time had been spent learning everything his father deemed necessary in order to one day inherit the dukedom.

Gregory and Victoria had enjoyed much more free time to indulge in childish games. Their father was less strict with his daughter and second son. He allowed them to run about the estate and play-anything to keep them occupied and out of his way-but Stephen rarely joined in. His days were spent in the schoolroom under the harsh eyes of his countless tutors. Sohere I am, at eight and twenty, running around in the forest like a child, and having a damn good time doing it, too.

Just then the boys returned with a bucketful of cold water. Stephen took a long, thirsty drink and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. His whiskers prickled his skin, and he realized it had been several days since Hayley had shaved him. He ran his hand over his stubbly cheeks and recalled the feel of her soft breasts pressing on his arm as she leaned over his chest to scrape the razor against his face. Asking her to shave him again was probably not a good idea.

Andrew and Nathan plopped themselves down next to Stephen, and he turned his attention to them. He stifled a smile when he realized both boys' shirtsleeves were rolled up and their buttons unfastened in a fashion similar to his own. Evidently they were emulating him. Unexpectedly, pride bubbled up in his chest.

He watched Andrew stroke his hands down his face the way Stephen had just done. "I suppose I'll need to shave soon," the boy said casually.

Before Stephen could reply, Nathan burst out laughing. "Are you daft?" He made a big show of peering at his older brother's face. "Not even one hair. Balder than an egg, you are."

Andrew's face flushed. "I am not. I have plenty of whiskers." He turned to Stephen. "Don't I, Mr. Barrettson?"

Stephen instantly recalled himself at Andrew's age. A boy, teetering on the awkward brink of manhood, impatient yet terrified to cross that threshold. He'd desperately needed and wanted a man to talk to, but his father possessed neither the time nor the inclination to bother with him. He knew what it was like to grow up without a father's love and attention, and his heart squeezed in sympathy for these two fatherless boys.

His face a mask of concentration, Stephen seriously pondered Andrew's upturned face. It was baby smooth. "Hmmm. Yes, Andrew, I believe I see quite a few whiskers growing. I predict you'll need to start shaving very soon." He almost smiled at the boy's obvious relief.

"Of course," Stephen continued, "once a man starts shaving, everything changes drastically."

Both boys sat up straighter, their eyes round. "Everything changes?" they echoed in unison. "How?"

Stephen hesitated, floundering for the proper words, and cursed his inability to impart some form of manly wisdom to his rapt audience. Knowing he was in over his head but determined to try, he drew a deep breath and began, "Once you're a man, life becomes… complicated. There are countless rules to follow, and responsibility and duties are thrust upon you. You must learn to rely on yourself. The world is filled with dishonest people who will try to take advantage of you or hurt you." Or kill you.

Nathan scooted closer to Stephen, until their knees bumped. "Hayley would never let anyone hurt us. She takes care of us."

"Yes, she does," Stephen agreed, "but once you're a man, then you'll need to take care of her. Pamela and Callie, too."

Andrew's face collapsed into a frown. "I don't have to attend Callie's tea parties, do I?"

"By 'take care of them' I meant be kind to them," Stephen clarified. "Respect them. Do things for them without complaint. Protect them from harm and dishonest people. Believe me, not everyone is as kind and generous as your family, so you need to watch out for yourselves and each other." He hesitated, then added, "And of course, there's the matter of… girls."

Nathan snorted. "Girls? By jingo, I don't like girls. They play with dolls and don't like to get dirty."

Stephen ruffled his hair. "You'll feel differently in a few years."

"Is that when I'll need to shave?"

Smothering a grin, Stephen said, "Yes, Nathan. That's pretty much the order of things. You realize you like girls, you shave, then you're a man."

Understanding dawned in Nathan's eyes. "That's why Andrew has whiskers! It's because he likes Lizzy Mayfield!"

"I do not!"

Anxious to forestall an argument, Stephen laid a hand on each boy's shoulder. "Enough, gentlemen. Nathan, do not tease your brother. You'll understand why when you're fourteen. And Andrew, there is nothing wrong with liking a girl. It's simply a part of growing up." He shot the boy a conspiratorial wink. "The best part."

A shy smile tugged at Andrew's lips. "Thank you, Mr. Barrettson. I-"

"There you are!"

Stephen turned and saw Hayley, Pamela, and Callie striding through the tall grass.

Nathan jumped to his feet. "I'm going to fetch the armor from our secret hiding place before they get here." He dashed off through the trees.

"It appears our man-to-man talk is over," Stephen said.

"Man to man?" Andrew asked, his eyes wide with wonder.

Stephen nodded. "Man to man." He held out his hand. Andrew's gaze shifted between Stephen's face and his hand. The boy swallowed visibly, then clasped Stephen's hand with a firm grip. The gratitude shining from the boy's eyes swelled Stephen's insides with pride.

"Look at the castle!" Callie yelled, clapping her hands together, running toward the new structure.

Hayley and Pamela both inspected the wall, and declared it an architectural wonder. They then joined Andrew and Stephen on the grass.

Leaning back and propping himself up on his elbows, Stephen indulged himself and looked at Hayley. His gaze moved to her face and his heart speeded up when he saw her attention riveted on his half-unbuttoned shirt.

He instantly imagined her touching him, running her hands over his chest, across his shoulders, down his back. An ache tightened his loins and he abruptly sat up, a frown pinching between his brows. Jesus! The woman made him hard just by looking at him. If he didn't get back to Londonand visit his mistress soon, he was going to lose his mind.

"Where's Nathan?" Pamela asked, looking around the meadow.

"He went to retrieve our armor from our secret hiding place," Andrew answered.

"I'll find him," Callie said, bounding toward the forest. "I know where the secret place is."

"How do you know?" Andrew shouted after her.

Callie just giggled and headed toward the forest.

"Is it far?" Hayley asked, watching Callie run across the meadow.

"No. It's just past that group of trees," Andrew said, pointing to a dense copse of oaks.

"So, Mr. Barrettson," Pamela said, smiling at him, "how did Andrew and Nathan convince you to help them build Camelot? At breakfast you mentioned losing a wager?"