"Hello, Hayley."

Startled, she turned around. "Good heavens, Jeremy. You gave me quite a fright."

He smiled at her. "I'm sorry. Your garden looks lovely."

"Thank you. It gives me great pleasure." In truth, she could barely stand to look at the flowers, but she didn't have the heart to let them die from neglect. "Did you wish to speak to me?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I did." He extended his elbow. "Would you care to take a stroll?"

Hayley hesitated briefly, then shrugged. Anything to keep her mind occupied. "All right." She dropped the gloves in her basket, and took Jeremy's arm.

They strolled slowly along, making idle conversation, until Jeremy finally paused. He turned to face her, and Hayley noticed the deep frown creasing his brow.

"Good heavens, Jeremy, you look as if the world is coming to an end. Is something amiss?"

"No, it's just that I have something very important to say to you."

"By all means, please tell me."

He abruptly clasped his hands behind his back and began pacing in front of her. "I've been thinking about you a great deal since my return to Halstead."

Hayley's brows rose in surprise. "You have?"

Jeremy nodded, never slowing his pacing. "Yes. In fact, I thought about you often while I was abroad, as well." He paused and glanced at her. "Did you think of me at all?"

Of course. I wanted to beat you with a skillet for deserting me. "Yes. Sometimes."

A breath whooshed from his lungs. "Excellent. As I said, since my return I've been thinking about you, or rather about us-about the way things were between us before I went abroad. When I left, I was considerably younger and quite wet behind the ears." A red flush stained his cheeks. "What I mean to say is, I'm not a boy anymore. Three years ago, I wasn't prepared to take on the responsibility of your entire family." He ran his finger around his neckcloth. "I believe I'm ready now."

Hayley simply stared at him. "I don't understand."

"Pamela will certainly be married soon, especially if Marshall Wentbridge has anything to say about it-"

"He proposed to Pamela earlier today," Hayley broke in. "She accepted."

A triumphant smile curved his lips. "There! You see!"

"Actually, no-"

"Andrew and Nathan are quite self-sufficient and nearly grown, and Callie is no longer a baby." Reaching out, he clasped her shoulders. "In other words, the things which overwhelmed and intimidated me three years ago no longer overwhelm or intimidate me."

Hayley stared at him blankly. "What are you saying?"

"I want you to marry me."

Her stare turned to slack-jawed amazement.

Jeremy's hands tightened on her shoulders and he pulled her closer to him. Leaning forward, he brushed his lips gently over hers several times in a series of chaste kisses before pulling back.

His mouth curved upward in a grin. "I can see by your stunned expression that I've surprised you."

"You've completely staggered me," she managed to say when she could speak again.

"But not displeased you, I hope."

"No, I'm not displeased," she said carefully, trying to corral her scattered thoughts. "I'm shocked."

Jeremy took her cold hands and squeezed them tightly. "I've always cared for you, Hayley, you know I have." He brought her hands to his lips and fervently kissed the backs of her fingers. "It wasn't until I left that I realized how wonderful and very special you are. How honest and caring." He gathered her into his arms and hugged her. "And innocent."

Hayley's face flamed. Innocent? Closing her eyes, she fought back the half laugh, half sob that bubbled up in her throat. Dear God, the irony of this! Three years ago she'd have given anything to hear these words from Jeremy. Now it was too late.

He wanted an innocent, a virgin, and he had every reason and right to expect she was just that. And I am anything but. Her wedding night would surely be one of dubious outcome, one that would bring shame and humiliation to both of them. She absolutely could not consider marrying him.

And there was her secret identity of H. Tripp to consider as well. That information would not only scandalize Jeremy, it would also disabuse him of his opinion that she was honest.

Stepping back from his embrace, she said, "Jeremy, I-"

He placed a gentle fingertip over her lips, halting her words. "I don't want an answer right now." A half-smile quirked his lips. "Especially if the answer is no. Think about it, Hayley. We'd suit very well together." He touched her cheek. "I want to take care of you."

Hayley closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Someone to take care of her. Dear God, that sounded wonderful. I've taken care of so many people for so long. What would it feel like to have someone take care of me?

"Promise me you'll think about it," he said.

How could she not? Jeremy's proposal was incredibly tempting and not a prospect to dismiss summarily. Yes, he'd cried off three years ago, and she'd been hurt, but part of her had understood his decision. While she might not love him, she cared for him, and they did get on well together. Someone to take care of me.

Hayley nodded. "I promise I'll think about it."

Once again pulling her close, Jeremy kissed her cheek, then her lips. Hayley tried to feel something, anything, from the touch of his lips on hers, but she felt nothing. A wave of desperation flooded her, a frantic need to feel something in the arms of this man who wanted to spend his life with her. Someone to take care of me.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she sifted her fingers through his thick blond hair. "Kiss me," she whispered.

Surprise flashed in his eyes, but he settled his hands on her waist and kissed her several times before stepping back. "I think we'd best stop," he said in a shaky voice.

"Yes," Hayley agreed, trying to hide her disappointment.

"May I call on you tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow?" she repeated absently. "We're having a birthday party for Callie, but, yes, of course. You're welcome to join us."

He placed a gentle kiss on the back of her hand. "Till then, darling." He left her, walking down the garden path toward the house.

The moment he was out of sight, Hayley plopped herself down on the nearest bench and touched her fingers to her lips. She'd tried desperately to will some feeling, some spark of passion, from Jeremy's kiss, but she'd failed. Failed miserably.

Compared to Stephen's kiss, Jeremy's was as exciting as kissing a dead carp. Where Stephen's kiss had left her breathless and filled with yearning, Jeremy's had left her feeling nothing more than faintly bored.

Groaning with self-disgust, Hayley dropped her face into her hands. It was unfair to compare Jeremy to Stephen because the Stephen she'd fallen in love with didn't really exist. Jeremy was real. And he cared for her. He wanted to marry her. To take care of her.

What on earth am I going to do?

SHAPE \* MERGEFORMAT

Chapter 29

"What the hell was so bloody important that you dragged me over here?" Stephen demanded as he strode into Justin's private study.

"How nice to see you up and about," Justin remarked.

"You didn't leave me much choice." Stephen poured himself a generous brandy then stood facing Justin. "I'll ask again. What the hell do you want?"

Justin shook his head. "My, my. Don't we have a temper today."

"We do not have a temper. We have a monstrous headache, a mountain of correspondence to see to, and no time to waste socializing."

"Pity," Justin said, without a trace of sympathy. "And here I thought you'd be delighted to get out of the house. You've been cooped up in your town house for a week now. According to my staff, you've been out of bed for several days."

"How does your staff know what goes on in my home?"

"One of your kitchen workers is a cousin to Victoria's abigail."

Stephen tossed back half his drink. "How bloody delightful."

"Someone has to keep us informed," Justin said mildly. "It's not as if you're very cooperative these days."

"There's nothing to tell. I've been working. For the three days before that I was resting in bed. As you may recall, I was shot. Now, are you going to tell me why you insisted I come here?"

"I didn't insist-"

"You insisted," Stephen stressed with a glare, "stating that you had something of great importance to tell me."

"Sit down, Stephen."

"I don't bloody well want to sit down," Stephen shouted.

"Just tell me what the hell you need to say and let me leave."

"Very well. It's about Hayley."

Stephen froze, his brandy snifter arrested halfway to his lips. Forcing a calm he was far from feeling, he said, "Indeed?"

Justin held out an envelope. "This was delivered here this morning. It's addressed to you in care of me. The messenger said it was given to him by a Miss Albright of Halstead."

Stephen set down his drink and took the envelope, his insides tight with tension. Half of him desperately wanted to see what Hayley had written, but the other half dreaded her words, which were no doubt filled with scorn. And rightfully so.

Justin walked to the door. "I'll have you know that only a lifetime of being a gentleman prevented me from opening it and reading it myself. I'll give you some privacy, but I shall return shortly. Do not even think of leaving until I do." With that, he left the room.

Stephen stared at the envelope, his heart pounding with anticipation and fear. He lowered himself into a wing chair and slipped an unsteady finger under the folded edge of the envelope, breaking the wax seal. Reaching in, he withdrew a single sheet of paper. He looked up at the ceiling, took a deep breath, and then lowered his eyes to the page before him.