He briefly closed his eyes and allowed her words to wash over him again. You're a wonderful man, Stephen. No one, not even his sister, had ever said such a thing to him before. And Stephen himself knew damn well he wasn't wonderful. After all, there was someone who hated him enough to want him dead.

A lump lodged in his throat. He wanted to say something to her, to disabuse her of her incorrect notions, but he couldn't force any words out.

"You are," she said softly, as if she'd read his mind. "You may not think so, but you are. You're not only wonderful, you're noble, and generous, and kind." She laid her hand directly over his heart. "In here. In your heart. In your soul. Where it counts." A wobbly smile touched her lips. "I would never lie to you. Trust me. I know."

Stephen framed her face between his hands, a frown tugging his brows. His gaze probed hers, searching-for what he wasn't sure, but he suddenly felt confused, and somehow vulnerable. I would never lie to you. Everything he'd told her about himself was a lie. He felt like a first-class bastard.

"Hayley, I-"

The bedchamber door opened and Marshall Wentbridge entered the hall. If he was surprised to find Hayley and Stephen standing so close together, with Hayley's palms resting on Stephen's chest and his hands cupping her face, he gave no indication of it.

"How is Nathan?" Hayley asked, stepping away from Stephen. "Is he all right?"

"He's fine," Marshall assured her with a smile.

Stephen watched her squeeze her eyes shut for several seconds. His own body felt liquid with relief.

"Thank God," she said, grabbing Stephen's hand and squeezing it hard.

"He suffered no broken bones, and he awoke while I was examining him," Marshall went on. "He's a very lucky young man. I put a salve on the cut on his forehead, which, by the way, is little more than a scratch, and cautioned him in my severest tones to stay out of trees."

"Maybe he'll listen to you," Hayley said with a shaky laugh. "He certainly hasn't listened to me."

"He's resting now if you'd like to see him. I gave him a bit of laudanum, so he won't be awake for very long. He needs to stay in bed for a day or two, then he'll be good as new."

Hayley grabbed both of Marshall's hands between hers. "Thank you, Marshall. From my heart, I thank you. Will you tell the others that Nathan is fine? And perhaps you'd like to stay for tea?"

"I'd be happy to, on both accounts," Marshall said with a smile, then headed toward the stairs.

Hayley opened the door and looked back at Stephen when he hesitated.

"Come on," she urged. When he still hesitated, she took his hand and pulled him into the room. "You helped rescue Nathan. You're part of the family, Stephen. Come with me."

You're part of the family. Stephen looked down at his hand that Hayley clasped, their fingers intertwined, and allowed her to pull him into Nathan's bedchamber.

You're part of the family.

SHAPE \* MERGEFORMAT

Chapter 15

Hayley sensed Winston's anguish the moment he joined the group in the drawing room after visiting Nathan's bedchamber.

"Lock me in the forecastle and slap me with a tankard of grog," he grumbled, blowing his nose into a huge hanky. "Climbing like a bloody monkey, fallin' out o' trees, nearly killin' 'imself." He turned mournful eyes to Hayley. "YerPa would flog me stupid careless hide if 'e knew about this, God rest his soul."

Hayley stood, ready to comfort the distressed sailor, but halted when Grimsley flung a thin arm around Winston's burly shoulders.

"Now, now, Winston," Grimsley said, patting him awkwardly. "Captain Albright knew that lads get into mischief. Remember the time Andrew wore the sheet and pretended to be a ghost?"

Winston barked out a laugh. "He was only a wee tyke, and as I recall, you were scared out o' yer britches." He blew his nose. "Ya cowardly bag o' bones."

"I believe a nip of port is called for," Grimsley said, gently urging Winston toward the door. "To celebrate Master Nathan's recovery."

Winston nodded and sniffed. "Sounds like a fine idea, Grimmy. Lead on."

The two men left the drawing room, and conversation and tea drinking resumed.

"Those two like each other?" Stephen asked Hayley. "I can't believe it."

"Pretend you don't know. Besides, they would never admit it." She sipped her tea and unobtrusively observed Pamela and Marshall conversing on the other side of the room. At least she thought she was unobtrusive, but apparently she wasn't because after several minutes, Stephen remarked, "It appears that Wentbridge harbors some affection for your sister, a fact which seems to please you very much, I might add."

"Oh dear. Is it that obvious?" she asked, appalled.

Stephen nodded, a teasing gleam lighting his eyes. "I'm afraid so. Your eyes are very expressive, my dear."

Hayley stared at him, not sure if she'd correctly heard the endearment that passed his lips. Had he actually called her dear? She mentally shook herself. She must be hearing things.

"Marshall Wentbridge is an extremely fine young man," she said in an undertone, keeping one eye on the couple across the room. "He's carried a tendre for Pamela for quite some time now, and she is very fond of him. I wouldn't be surprised if a betrothal announcement was made shortly."

"And that would please you?"

She nodded. "Oh yes. It is my fondest hope for Pamela to fall in love and have a family of her own."

"I see."

"Why, yes, I'd love more tea," Aunt Olivia broke in, holding her cup out to Stephen. "How kind of you to ask, Mr. Barrettson."

Hayley watched Stephen gallantly but awkwardly pour tea into Aunt Olivia's cup. He handled the teapot as if he'd never touched one before. Clearly tea-pouring was not a task at which tutors were expected to excel.

Aunt Olivia took a sip then fixed her gaze on Stephen's face. "Are you attempting to grow whiskers, Mr. Barrettson?"

Stephen ran one hand over his stubbly cheeks. "No, not particularly, although it may appear that way."

"Well, if you were to ask my opinion…"She left the sentence hanging and stared at him pointedly.

"I would be honored to hear your thoughts on the subject, dear lady," Stephen assured her, inclining his head.

Aunt Olivia graced him with a beaming smile. "In that case, I must say that, while I'm sure you would look quite dashing with a beard, your face is much too handsome to cover up with facial hair." She batted her eyelashes at Stephen. "Don't you agree, Hayley?"

Hayley nearly choked on her tea. If she didn't know better, she'd swear her aunt was flirting with Stephen. "Well, I, er, yes, I suppose so." A hot blush crept up her neck.

Stephen leaned back in his chair and bestowed a devastating smile on Aunt Olivia. "Well, certainly, if you prefer me clean-shaven, Aunt Olivia, I shall have to rid myself of these offensive whiskers."

Aunt Olivia looked as if she would melt into a puddle at his feet. "Excellent, dear boy."

"Thank you for the tea," Marshall said, joining the group sitting by the fireplace. "It was very enjoyable"-his glance drifted to Pamela-"but I really must be going."

Hayley rose and shook Marshall's hand. "Thank you for all you did for Nathan. Will we see you this Friday at Mrs. Smythe's party?"

"Oh, yes indeed. I look forward to it." Marshall shook Stephen's hand, bowed to Aunt Olivia, and waved to Callie and Andrew, who were playing cards.

"Pamela, would you mind terribly seeing Marshall out?" Hayley asked with a smile. "I'm so tired from all the day's excitement."

"Of course not." Pamela shyly took Marshall's arm and led him from the room.

"Asking Pamela if she minds seeing Dr. Wentbridge to the door is rather like asking Callie if she would like to have a tea party, don't you agree?" Aunt Olivia asked, her eyes wide and innocent.

Hayley smiled and shook her head. Apparently Aunt Olivia was quite a bit sharper than anyone thought.


* * *

Late that evening, after everyone had retired, Hayley headed for her father's study. This was a perfect opportunity to get some much-needed work done. She'd done very little writing since Stephen's arrival at Albright Cottage. If she didn't write, she wouldn't sell her stories. No sale, no money.

As she passed the library on her way to the study, she looked down and saw a soft glow of light shining beneath the door. She pushed the door open and stepped into the room. The scene that greeted her eyes suffused her with tender warmth.

She'd been so occupied getting the children to bed and checking on Nathan, she'd just assumed Stephen had retired early as he had the previous evening. But clearly he hadn't, for he lay sprawled out on the long overstuffed sofa in front of the fireplace. A warm fire glowed in the grate, casting mellow shadows and flickering light over the room.

After closing the door, Hayley approached on silent feet, stopping when she stood directly in front of him and staring down at his sleeping form. His jacket and waistcoat were folded neatly over a chair on the opposite side of the fireplace. His shirtsleeves were rolled up, revealing his strong forearms, and his shirt was unfastened nearly to his waist.

Hayley stared at the bronzed skin gleaming between the V of white lawn. He'd removed the bandages taping his ribs, granting her an unimpeded view of his muscular chest. Dark curling hair tapered into a raven line that bisected his flat, taut stomach before disappearing into his shirt once again. An open Gentleman's Weekly lay on the floor. Hayley noticed the page was opened to A Sea Captain's Adventures by H. Tripp.