Red Roses Mean Love

Chapter 31

Hayley ran from the terrace as if the devil himself pursued her. To her profound mortification, she realized that everyone at the table, Stephen included, would realize why she'd left so abruptly, but she couldn't stay there another instant.

He was getting married.

Dear God, it felt as if her insides were being ripped out with a rusty pitchfork. She raced up the stairs, not stopping until she reached the sanctuary of her bedchamber. She collapsed into her favorite chair and buried her face in her hands, trying without success to stem the flood of tears washing down her face.

Why, oh why, did he come here? I should have made him leave. I should have tossed him out the minute I saw him. I should have set the dogs on him.But knowing how happy his presence made Callie, she hadn't had the heart to send him away. So instead, she'd steadfastly ignored him, praying she could hold on to her composure until he left.

But, dear God, when he'd announced he was planning to marry, she couldn't carry on the pretense another minute. With her heart shattered into a thousand pieces, she ran. In spite of her best efforts to forget him, she still loved him, a fact that disgusted her to no end. In fact, the more she thought about it, the angrier she became.

How dare that bounder come here, calmly announcing his wedding plans! Hayley impatiently swiped at her wet eyes with her hanky. Of all the colossal nerve! Why I'd like to-

"Hayley."

The deep masculine voice interrupted her musings. She turned, outrage filling her when Stephen entered her bedchamber. Closing the door behind him, he leaned against it.

"Get out," she hissed furiously, jumping to her feet.

"There are some things that I need to say to you," he said quietly, walking slowly toward her. "After I've said them, if you still want me to leave, I will."

"I've listened to all I care to from you." She tried hard to keep the tremor from her voice, and she felt proud that she almost succeeded. "How dare you enter my bedchamber."

He continued walking forward. Hayley refused to let him think he intimidated her in any way. She stood her ground, even though he didn't stop until only a few feet separated them.

"As I recall, you once welcomed me into this room," he said in a husky voice. "You welcomed me into your arms. Into your bed. Into your body."

Humiliation, embarrassment, and pain collided, ripping through her, searing her. "How dare you! I'll have you know, your lordship, that you are not the man I welcomed into this room. I learned, unfortunately too late, that that man did not exist. He was merely a fabrication of lies and deceit."

He reached out visibly shaking fingers to touch her cheek, but she jerked her face aside. "It was me," he said in an aching whisper. "A me I didn't know existed. A me capable of feelings I'd never known before. Until you, Hayley."

She dropped her chin, struggling against the maelstrom of emotions his words stirred.

"I treated you terribly, Hayley, and I'm more sorry than I can say, but you must let me explain. The night I saw you at Victoria's party, I'd been thinking about you. Hell I couldn't stop thinking about you. Then I turned around and there you were. I was so damn happy to see you."

A bitter laugh escaped her. "You managed to keep your joy well hidden."

"I knew I was in danger. Justin and I had set a trap to catch the person trying to kill me, and I was the bait. I was desperate to get you away from me. To keep you safe. I would have died if any harm had come to you. But you wouldn't leave." He drew a deep breath. "And then I made the biggest error of my life."

"Those things you said to me-"

"Were an unforgivable mistake." He shook his head. "My only excuse is that in my entire life I've never known unselfish goodness such as yours, and for one insane moment it made perfect sense to me that you were there to see what you could get out of me. Because of my title, I'm afraid such things occur with sickening frequency. I have very few friends because there are so few people I can trust… so few who don't want something from me.

"But you…"His throat tightened, and he couldn't speak for several seconds. "You are incapable of such selfishness and I am deeply sorry I ever thought you were."

"What about the lies you told when you first came here?"

"Again, someone wanted me dead. I thought if I hid my identity, I wouldn't be discovered until I'd healed. As you know, I was in no condition to travel or defend myself."

"The way you left me," she whispered, "that awful note…"

"I'm sorry. God, you have no idea how much I regret that. I tried to tell you I had to leave, but when you asked me to stay, when you said you loved me-" He raked his hands through his hair. "My control snapped. I wanted you so much. And afterward, I couldn't bear to see that love fade from your eyes when I told you I'd lied to you. I didn't believe I'd ever see you again, and I wanted my last image to be of you loving me. It was pure selfishness on my part, and I have no excuse. But if it matters, I've regretted it every moment since."

Hayley squeezed her eyes shut, and fought to quiet the emotions swarming through her like angry bees, bombarding her, stinging her, forcing her to feel things she'd tried so desperately to bury. If he didn't leave soon, she was going to fall apart.

"Hayley, there are so many things I want to say to you, but I don't know the words… so I brought you a present."

She opened her eyes and prayed for strength. "A present?"

"Wait here."

Stephen opened the door and bent down. He then closed the door and rejoined her, holding a small bouquet of flowers.

"I keep a modest conservatory at my London town house," he said, handing her the flowers. "Last evening I had a chat with Desmond."

"Desmond?"

"My groundskeeper. He apparently shares your knowledge of flowers and their meanings." He touched a delicate flower. "For instance, Desmond told me tulips, such as this one, stand for 'consuming love.' Is that right?"

Hayley stared at the bouquet and nodded mutely. "And this flower," Stephen said, touching a white blossom, "is a camellia. It means 'loveliness perfected.' And this one is a double pink. Do you know what they mean?"

"'My love will never die,'" Hayley whispered, her eyes riveted on the small pink flowers.

"Yes. My love will never die," he agreed softly. He pointed to a small white rosebud. "According to Desmond, this one means 'a heart untouched by love.'" Placing gentle fingers under her chin, he lifted her face until their eyes met.

"That was me. Untouched by love. Until I met you." He pulled a single red rose from the bouquet and handed it to her. "Red roses mean love. I love you, Hayley."

Hayley took the rose, with shaking fingers, and raised it to her nose, inhaling the heady fragrance, her head spinning. I love you, Hayley. Had he really said that? Before she could think, he reached out and pulled a small yellow bloom from the group. When Hayley saw the verbena, she stilled. Her gaze flew to his.

"Do you know what this means?" he asked softly.

She swallowed, scarcely able to breathe. "Do you know what it means?"

Nodding solemnly, he handed her the flower. "Marry me."

Hayley stared at him. Surely this was a dream. This could not be real.

He leaned forward and brushed his lips lightly against hers. "God, I love you, Hayley," he breathed against her mouth. "Marry me. I swear I'll spend the rest of my life making you happy, making you forget how I've hurt you." He raised his head and searched her eyes.

Hayley looked into his handsome, somber face. He loved her. The flood of tears she could no longer hold at bay gushed forth and streamed from her eyes.

He gathered her into his arms, crushing the bouquet between them. "Please don't cry. I can't bear to watch an angel weep." He dropped tender kisses against her eyelids, then trailed his lips down her tear-wet cheek.

"Hayley, sweetheart, please, say something," he whispered against the shell of her ear. "I'm in agony…"He dropped his forehead forward until their brows touched. "You simply must marry me. If you don't, I'll turn into a horrid curmudgeon. I'll frown all the time." He lifted his head and touched the skin at the corner of his eye. "Look at the wrinkles all that frowning has caused. Why, I'll be old before my time. Have pity on a poor nobleman who loves you and is utterly miserable without you."

"My family-" she began, but Stephen cut her off.

"Your family will be my family, and it will be the first real family I've ever had," he said simply. "They will live with us, and I'll see to it they have the best of everything."

"I suppose I'll have to dispose of my breeches and stop frolicking in the lake."

His expression softened and he shook his head. "No. Don't change a thing. I love everything about you, especially those things that make you so wonderfully different."

Joy filled her to overflowing. But there was one last thing standing in her way. "There's something I must tell you, Stephen."

"Just tell me yes."

Hayley shook her head. "I mean there's something you need to know. Something about me."

"I'm listening."

Hayley stepped away from him and pressed her hand to her stomach. "I'm not quite certain how to say this, so I'll simply say it." She drew a deep breath and hoped for the best. "I want to continue writing and selling my stories to the Gentleman's Weekly."

He cocked a brow. "As my wife, you certainly won't lack for funds."

"It has nothing to do with money. I enjoy writing the stories. They keep Papa alive for me." When he remained silent, she added, "This is important to me, Stephen."

"I see."

Hayley's heart sank at his flat tone. Of course he would disapprove. "I realize a scandal could erupt should anyone discover I'm H. Tripp. You must think I'm-"

"Brilliant. I think you're absolutely brilliant. And wonderful." A slow smile curved his lips. "It seems I just proposed to one of the most popular 'men' in England. By damn, we really are going to set Society on its ear!" Pulling her against him, he kissed her until her head swam.

"You mean you don't mind?" Hayley gasped when he lifted his head.

He cocked a single brow. "Mind? That the woman I love is talented, beautiful, and utterly marvelous? Why would I mind?"

"And you'll allow me to continue writing?"

"Allow you? I insist upon it. I'm as anxious as everyone else to find out what will happen in the next installment of A Sea Captain's Adventures." His eyes turned serious. "Now, will you answer my question? Will you marry me?"

Hayley gazed at him, her heart so filled with love, she could barely speak. She managed to squeak out only one word, but apparently that was fine with Stephen as it was clearly the word he wanted to hear.

"Yes," she croaked.

"Thank God," he uttered fervently. He lowered his head and captured her lips in an endless kiss, a kiss filled with aching tenderness and unmistakable love. After several minutes he raised his head. "There is one request I need to make," he said in a not too steady voice.

"What's that?"

"At the risk of sounding overbearing and demanding, if that bastard Popplefart isn't out of this house in exactly three minutes, I'm going to fling him out by the seat of his pants."

Hayley's eyes widened. "Oh, dear. I forgot all about poor dear Jeremy-"

"Poor dearJeremy?"

"Yes. I must tell him I can't accept his proposal-"

"His what?"

"Jeremy asked me to marry him."

"He's a dead man," Stephen ground out. "I'm going to break every bloody bone in his damn body-" He broke off his diatribe and glared at her. "When did he propose?"

"Yesterday," she said, trying very hard not to show her pleasure at Stephen's display of jealousy.

"And you didn't refuse him immediately?"

"Well, no. I-"

"Were you considering his proposal?" he asked in a suddenly quiet voice.

She reached up and framed his scowling face between her palms. "I'd be less than truthful if I said I didn't think about it, but I had every intention of telling him today after the party that I couldn't accept him. I'll tell him as soon as we go downstairs."

"I still feel like smashing his face," Stephen muttered. "I saw the way he kissed your temple when he escorted you from the forest. If Popplepuss ever so much as touches you again, he's going to find himself in a great deal of pain."

The corners of Hayley's lips twitched. "Popplemore."

"Indeed."

Hayley brushed her lips against Stephen's grim mouth. "Why don't we go downstairs right now? We'll tell the family our news and I'll escort Jeremy to the door." She wrapped her arms around his neck and ran the tip of her tongue over his lower lip.

"An excellent suggestion," he agreed, drawing her tightly against him. He threaded his fingers through her curls and kissed her, a kiss that began softly but soon grew into a passionate exchange.

"Stephen," Hayley breathed, clinging to his shoulders while his warm lips marauded down the side of her neck.

He flicked his tongue over the rapidly beating pulse at the base of her throat. "Hmmm?"

"Everyone will wonder what we're doing up here. We really should go downstairs," she said without much conviction.

Stephen gave her one last, lingering kiss. "You're right. We can't stay in here any longer. If we do, we'll end up in your bed." He tucked her hand in his arm and started toward the door.

"Wait," Hayley said, freeing herself. She bent down and picked up the bouquet of flowers Stephen had given her. It had slipped from her fingers during their kiss, and now looked a bit crushed. "I mustn't leave my flowers here." She stood and brought the bouquet to her face, inhaling deeply. "They're the most wonderful gift I've ever received."

Stephen gently touched her cheek. "Do you know what the most wonderful gift I've ever received is?" he asked softly.

Hayley looked up into his face-the most compelling, handsome face she'd ever seen. She loved him so much, she ached with it. She shook her head.

He brought her hand to his lips and pressed a fervent kiss to her palm. "You. You, my love, are most wonderful gift I've ever received."

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