Red Roses Mean Love (7 page)

Stephen shrugged. "I didn't really believe someone was threatening my life until this second attempt was made. The first time, I wasn't in the best section of
London
. The attack could have been aimed at any number of unsavory characters in the area. But this second assault convinced me that I am indeed in danger.
Lawrence
may very well be our man."

Justin tunneled his fingers through his hair. "I hate to suggest this, but have you considered that it could be someone in your family?"

A bitter laugh escaped Stephen. "Surely you cannot mean
my
esteemed family? Are you suggesting my father the mighty Duke of Moreland, wishes me dead? Perhaps. But I cannot see him bothering to dirty his gloves with the effort or taking the time out from his adulterous affairs to plan the thing.

"As for Mother, she's too busy with her rounds of social engagements and clandestine meetings with her numerous lovers to notice me at all. Besides, if I were dead, she'd be obliged to wear mourning, and you know how she utterly
detests
encasing herself in black. While Gregory would inherit should I cock up my toes, my dear brother is usually too drunk even to see me, let alone kill me. And I hope you're not considering Victoria a suspect. Not only does my sister stand to gain nothing from my death, she is also your wife. I would hope your opinion of her is better than that."

"I was actually thinking about Gregory," Justin said quietly. "Your death would leave him a marquess, heir to a dukedom, and incredibly wealthy."

"I considered that possibility, but I think it unlikely. Gregory is too involved with his own dissolute life to possess the stamina or cunning to kill me off."

"He's also greedy and selfish," Justin pointed out. "It would not require much stamina or cunning to hire someone to kill you, and those bastards who left you for dead were obviously hired men."

Stephen shook his head. "Gregory doesn't want the responsibility of the dukedom. All he requires is money. A great deal of money. He wouldn't know what to do with the endless duties attached to the title. Besides, Father gives him a staggering yearly income to spend on his debauched pleasures."

"Your father refused to bail him out the last time," Justin reminded him. "Gregory was forced to marry Melissa to get himself out of trouble. If he should run through Melissa's fortune, he'd need one of his own. If your father refused to subsidize his losses, then…"
Justin's words trailed off, and Stephen drew the inevitable conclusion.

"Then Gregory would need another source of money," Stephen finished. "I see your point, but still I cannot fathom—" Stephen froze, his words coming to an abrupt halt.

Justin stared at him. "What? What are you thinking?"

"I was attacked on my way to my hunting cottage. I had only decided that morning to go there."

"Yes, I know. You told me your plans that afternoon."

"Very few people know about that lodge. As you know, I keep no staff there—it's a private place for me alone."

"I'm aware of that."

Stephen looked at Justin, his gaze boring into his friend's eyes. "I told someone besides you where I was going. One other person. And only several hours before I left."

"Who did you tell?"

Bitterness stung him like a blow. "Gregory. Bloody hell, my own damn brother
is
trying to kill me."

Chapter 5

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S
tephen's announcement hung in the air for several long moments, the silence broken only by a pair of chirping bluebirds and the soft rustling of leaves in the warm breeze.

Finally Justin cleared his throat. "Perhaps Gregory told someone else?"

Stephen shook his head. "No. I don't think so. I stopped at his town house late that afternoon to deliver some papers. He asked if I was planning to attend the Harrimans' musicale and I said no, I was going to my lodge for several days." Stephen raked his hands through his hair, wincing when he accidentally brushed the lump on the back of his head. "He appeared agitated and preoccupied at the same time, and quite anxious for me to be on my way. I was happy to oblige him."

"And you told no one else your plans?"

"No. Did you mention my departure from
London
to anyone?"

"I told
Victoria
, but not until we were at the Harrimans' town house," Justin said. His expression grew thoughtful. "Gregory would have had ample time to make arrangements with those men who attacked you."

A sudden, overwhelming weariness washed over Stephen. "Good God, Justin. I always knew that with the exception of
Victoria
, my family was immoral and sickening, but I admit I'm taken aback by Gregory's possible involvement in this."

"Well, I think you'd best change 'possible' to 'probable' and decide what we're going to do about it."

"Actually, I have a plan."

"Excellent. I'm listening," Justin said.

Stephen clasped his hands behind his back and gathered his thoughts. Justin walked beside him, silently waiting.

"It occurs to me," Stephen began, "that our culprit—be it Gregory or Lawrence or someone else—believes, or hopes, I am dead."

"Yes," Justin agreed. "It will no doubt be quite a shock to someone when you reappear."

"Indeed. But I don't think I should reappear right away. I believe it would be best if I remain here, safe in the country, until I'm fully recovered. Hayley said I may stay here as long as I need for my injuries to heal, and it's an invitation I intend to take advantage of. In the meanwhile, you can conduct a discreet investigation. Observe Gregory's actions.
Lawrence
's as well."

"Consider it done," Justin said without hesitation. "But you can hardly stay out here in the middle of nowhere forever."

"True. We shall set a time limit—say two or three weeks. That should give you ample opportunity to poke around. I'd planned to be away for this week, so no one should miss me yet. You can casually mention to my family and
London
staff that I'd told you several weeks ago I was planning an excursion to the Continent, which will explain my absence for the next few weeks. If you haven't discovered anything by then, I'll reappear and hopefully shock our culprit into revealing himself."

"A good theory, but what if he fails to take one look at you and drop to his knees and confess all? What if, instead, he makes another try for you—and succeeds?"

"We know who our main suspects are, so we'll be prepared," Stephen stated. "If all else fails, we can set a trap using me as bait and catch the bastard."

"I don't like the sound of that at all," Justin protested. "It's far too risky."

"I don't care for it overmuch myself," Stephen admitted, "but it likely won't come to that. With any luck, my loving brother or ex-business partner will reveal himself within the next several weeks. And if he doesn't, at least I'll have ample time to heal and regain my strength before returning to
London
."

"There is one thing we can do," Justin suggested. "When you fail to appear, dead or alive, our killer is apt to grow increasingly anxious. I'll ask Miss Albright the exact location where she found you and post someone there to see if anyone comes around looking for your body."

"An excellent plan, although we may be too late. I've already been here a sennight."

Justin frowned. "That's true. If the killer is aware your body wasn't found where it was supposed to be and knows there's a chance you're alive, he'll continue to look for you." His eyes met Stephen's. "And perhaps find you here."

Stephen carefully pondered Justin's words. "You may be right, but the chances of anyone finding me here are remote. From what Miss Albright tells me, we're at least two hours from where I was attacked. Besides, if our man gets nervous, he's more apt to make a mistake. That is to our benefit."

Justin halted Stephen by placing a hand on his shoulder. "What will you do if it turns out your brother is behind this?"

Stephen turned and faced his friend. "You know the situation with my family. I've never felt that I had a brother, not even in childhood. If Gregory is indeed responsible for the attacks on my life, then he can rot in hell where he belongs."

Justin's gaze probed Stephen's and understanding born of true friendship flowed between them.

"I'll do all I can to help you," Justin promised in a quiet voice. They resumed their walk, heading back toward the house. After a moment of silence, Justin asked, "You told the Albrights you are a tutor?"

"Yes. They believe I am without family, and that my last name is Barrettson. I thought it best to keep my identity a secret."

A chuckle escaped Justin. "You? A tutor? I can just picture you knee-deep in children, spouting mathematical equations and philosophical quotations."

Stephen shot his friend a scowl. "I thought it was a rather clever ruse myself," he said in a withering tone.

"Oh, yes. Very clever indeed," Justin agreed, unable to smother his grin. "Tell me, what are Miss Hayley Albright's parents like? I imagine they're somewhat unconventional, what with allowing their daughter to wander about on dark roads with only footmen in attendance, rescuing victims from streams. And that man who answered the door was, well, I'm frankly at a loss for words. That ruffian was not her father I hope?"

"No. Her parents are both dead."

Justin sobered instantly. "Oh. So who takes care of her?"

Stephen squelched an urge to roll his eyes. "Who takes care of
her?
No one, that's who. She's in charge of the entire household, which includes four younger siblings and an absentminded, half-deaf aunt who requires more care than she's capable of giving. There's an aged footman who can't ever find his spectacles, and that giant who swears like the sailor he used to
be.
And let's not forget an utterly obnoxious French cook who I hear is fond of tossing pots and pans all about the kitchen."

Justin's jawed dropped. "I beg your pardon?"

Stephen nodded and placed his hand over his heart. "I speak the truth. Never in my life have I seen such a household. Where I'll find the restraint to keep from correcting them at every turn, I do not know. I've already bitten my tongue half a dozen times. Yesterday afternoon I joined the family for a meal for the first time. The children eat with the adults at the table, and from what I can see, are free to run willy-nilly all about the place without direction.

"The youngest is a girl of six, Callie, who is determined that I attend a tea party with her and her doll." Stephen's face wrinkled into a grimace. "A
tea party,
for chrissake. Then there's fourteen-year-old Andrew and eleven-year-old Nathan, devils the two of them. They argue constantly and set my head to pounding. From what I can see, eighteen-year-old Pamela stands alone as the only reasonably well-mannered, soft-spoken member of the entire group."

A bark of laughter erupted from Justin. "Quite an astounding collection. And what about your savior, Miss Hayley Albright?" He shot Stephen a questioning look. "I couldn't help but notice that she's very attractive."

Stephen ignored the tightening in his stomach. "Indeed?"

"Yes. I only saw her for a minute or two, but let me see," Justin said, ticking off attributes on his fingers. "Tall, slim, beautiful aqua-colored eyes…"
He turned his attention back to Stephen. "Her eyes are quite extraordinary, do you not agree?"

"I hadn't particularly noticed," Stephen lied in a tone meant to discourage further comments.

Justin clearly took no notice of the tone. "Really? Now, where was I? Oh, yes. Miss Albright. Lovely complexion, and her hair is quite something, all those long, thick, shiny curls. Did I mention how very full her lips are or how lush and rounded her—"

"That's quite enough, Justin," Stephen broke in, sending his friend a warning glare. The thought of Justin noticing Hayley's enticing curves and kissable lips inexplicably annoyed him. "You will please recall to whom you are speaking. I am your
wife's
brother. I cannot imagine
Victoria
taking kindly to your extolling the physical attributes of another woman."

Justin's face bore a mask of innocence. "I was merely pointing out the obvious, Stephen. I meant no offense. I love your sister dearly. I'm a bit surprised that after spending the past week in Miss Albright's company, you failed to notice things about her that most men, including happily married men such as myself, couldn't help but notice immediately. In fact, I find it quite staggering that
you
of all people, one of
London
's most notable connoisseurs of beautiful women, failed to notice her obvious attributes."

Stephen gritted his teeth against Justin's teasing and kept walking. Oh, he'd noticed Hayley Albright's attributes. Every last one of them. Yesterday afternoon he'd wandered through the garden, pausing frequently to rest. He'd come upon Hayley kneeling in the dirt, pulling weeds from a flower bed. When she smiled up at him, his mouth had gone dry.

The setting sun gleamed behind her, bathing her in soft hues of orange and gold. Loose chestnut tendrils escaped her chignon, surrounding her face like a soft cloud, and a smudge of dirt marred one creamy cheek. Stephen's gaze had drifted over her, and in spite of her disheveled appearance and drab gown, he'd experienced an immediate physical reaction.

"Caring for all those children is quite a responsibility for a young unmarried woman," Justin remarked, jerking Stephen's thoughts back to the present. "I suppose she must have inherited quite a sum in order to keep the family housed and fed."

"I don't know. Her father was a sea captain, I believe."

Justin frowned. "A sea captain? Albright? By any chance was her father Tripp Albright?"

Stephen shrugged. "I suppose it's possible. Who is Tripp Albright?"

Justin stared at him, his amazement clear. "Only one of the most fabled sea captains ever to sail the seas. Haven't you heard tales of his exploits?"

Stephen racked his memory, then slowly nodded. "Yes, I believe I may have. But not for quite some time."

"As I recall, he died a number of years ago from a fever he caught in the tropics."

"Hayley's father died three years ago."

"It must be the same man," Justin said. "Albright isn't a common surname. From what I recall, he was quite a colorful character."

At that moment, both men's attention was drawn to the sight of Hayley walking from the stables, leading Pericles by the reins. She stopped and fed the horse an apple, which he delicately ate from her hand, then nuzzled her neck with his nose. She caught sight of them watching her and waved her hand in greeting.

Justin stared, clearly dumbfounded. "Is that what I think it is?"

Stephen couldn't help but be amused by the stunned expression on Justin's face. "You mean Hayley turning my formidable stallion into a cooing dove? Your eyes aren't deceiving you, Justin. I witnessed a similar scene yesterday and my jaw nearly dropped to the ground. The woman has a way with horses. She's even ridden the beast."

"My God, Stephen. You're not afraid he'll hurt her?"

"Look at him. He's porridge in her hands. And he's apparently even taken a shine to the Albrights' horse." He watched Pericles stand perfectly still while Hayley bent down to examine his foreleg. "As I've no fear that he'll harm her, she has my blessing to care for him."