Red Roses Mean Love Read Free Page A

him," Hayley answered without hesitation.
    Grimsley's wrinkled face paled visibly. "But Miss Hayley! What if he's a lunatic of some sort? What if—"
    "His clothes—what's left of them—are fine quality. He is no doubt a gentleman, or employed by one." When Grimsley opened his mouth to speak again, Hayley held up her hand to silence him. "If he turns out to be a murdering lunatic, we will knock him on the head with a skillet, fling him out the door and send for the magistrate. In the meantime, we are bringing him home. Now. Before he dies as we speak."
    Grimsley sighed and his gaze traveled upward to where the stallion stood. "I somehow knew you were going to say that. But how are we going to get him up the hill?"
    "We're gonna carry 'im, ya wheezin' old fossil," Winston hollered close to Grimsley's ear, causing the older man to wince. "I'm strong as an ox, I am. I could lug this bloke twenty miles if I 'ad to." He turned to Hayley. "You can count on me, Miz Hayley. I'm no wispy bag o' bones—not like some people we know." He shot Grimsley a narrowed-eyed glare.
    "Thank you. Both of you. Grimsley, you lead the way with the lantern."
    "I'll carry his feet, Miss Hayley," Grimsley said with dignity. "You carry the lantern."
    A weary smile tugged at Hayley's lips and her earlier annoyance at the elderly man vanished. "Thank you, Grimsley, but I am already dirty and you are much more skilled at navigation with a lantern than I." Hayley saw that Winston was about to make a remark and she sent him a killing glare. Winston rolled his eyes heavenward and snapped his lips together.
    "Now," Hayley continued, "we must hurry and get him back to the house and into a warm bed as soon as possible."
    Winston grabbed the man under his arms, while Hayley struggled with his feet. Dear God, the man weighed more than Andrew and Nathan combined, and her brothers were no flimsy wisps. She may have spared Grimsley's feelings, but her back would hurt for it tomorrow. For the first time in her life, she gave thanks for her unfeminine height and strength. Perhaps she towered over most men's heads and couldn't dance with any amount of grace, but by God she could lug her share of a heavy man up a hill.
    They slipped twice on their way up, and both times Hayley's heart ached when the man groaned, hating that they were hurting him but unable to avoid it. The ground was treacherous with mud and rocks. Her clothes were beyond ruined, and her knees scraped raw from the sharp stones, but she never considered giving up. In fact, her discomfort only made her more determined. If she was suffering, the man was suffering more.
    "Blimey, this bloke's heavier than 'e looks," Winston panted when they finally reached the top. After resting for a brief moment to catch their breath, they carried the man back to the gig with Grimsley leading the stallion by the reins. The man groaned several more times, and Hayley's heart clenched. The going was slow, but at least Winston and Grimsley had ceased bickering.
    When they arrived at their vehicle, Hayley instructed, "Let's lay him down across the seat. Make him as comfortable as possible." That accomplished, she breathed a huge sigh of relief. He was still alive. "Grimsley, you watch over the man. Winston, drive the gig. I shall ride the stallion."
    The journey home would take another two hours. Sitting astride the huge horse, Hayley pressed her heels to the animal's flanks and offered up a silent, fervent prayer the man would survive that long.
    * * *
    In a dark alley near the London waterfront, a plain hired hack drew to a stop. The sole occupant of the coach watched through a slit in the curtain as two men approached.
    "Is he dead?" the occupant asked in a low whisper.
    Willie, the taller of the two men, curled his lips back. "'Course 'e's dead. We told ye we'd get rid of the toff and we did." His beady eyes flickered with menace.
    "Where is the body?"
    "Facedown in a stream 'bout an hour's ride from Town," Willie said,