Impulse. Candace Camp
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Angela let out an inelegant snort. “Don’t wax romantic on me, Kate. I can usually count on your good sense.”
Kate allowed a little smile. “Hard head is more like it, my lady. But even I can see that if a man’s still wanting to marry you after, what, thirteen years …?”
“I don’t think it is romance that is on his mind. I think it’s revenge. It was my family that hurt him thirteen years ago, and now he has come back to extract his vengeance on us. He has already taken over control of our mines and acquired much of our land, not to mention buying up practically all Jeremy’s debts. The Stanhope family virtually belongs to him. And I, the one who hurt him the most, well, he can bring me permanently under his thumb by marrying me. What exquisite revenge—to have all of us subject to him, applying to him for whatever we might need, currying his favor, obeying him. I cast him off, and he wants to repay me for that. What better way than to make me do what I did not thirteen years ago—marry him! He will have the rest of my life to make me suffer, too, for now even Jeremy would not dare take me in against his wishes. Cam owns Jeremy.”
“Oh, no, my lady! Cam would not treat you ill,” Kate protested. “He is a good man.”
Angela raised an eyebrow. “How can you know that? He seemed so, I know, years ago. Gentle and good and—” Her voice caught for an instant, then she went on. “But how can you know what is really inside a man’s heart? And after so many years, with all the bitterness he felt about my marriage, with whatever he has had to do to make all the money he has, well, he is bound to have changed. He is obviously a very different man now. The Cam I knew would not have set out to wreck a family, as he has done with us. He would not have tried to force a woman to marry him.”
Kate shrugged. “Still … it does not mean he is a devil like Lord Dunstan. My pa, he was a strict one, and I’ve seen him madder than fire, but he never raised a hand against Ma. You know your brother is not like that. Why, even his old lordship wouldn’t have struck his wife.”
Angela cast her a speaking look. “Strike Grandmama? He would not have dared.” She sighed. “I know. You are right. Not all men are like Dunstan. Maybe Cam would not actually hurt me. He was never rough … before. But, oh, Kate, I could not. I could not marry him.”
She tightened her hands into fists, her stomach beginning to roil with the old, familiar fear. “To be under a man’s complete power again. Just to know that he could—” She broke off and turned away, crossing her arms over her chest and tucking her fists beneath her arms. “To have him in my bed.” Her voice came out a horrified whisper. “I cannot.”
Her maid gazed at her with profound sympathy, wishing, not for the first time, that she could somehow wipe Angela’s prior marriage from her mind. But even that would not be enough, she suspected. The lady’s scars were burned into her soul, as well.
“You need not, my lady,” she reassured her softly. “Your brother cannot make you. He would not, even if he could.”
“I know he could not force me. But I am dependent on him. He has done so much for me. I feel terribly guilty not to, when it would help him so much. I don’t know what he will do if Cam calls in those notes or closes down the mine. Or both. Jeremy will be destroyed.”
“Then you must convince Cam not to do it.”
“I? You jest. Cam hates me.”
“Hates you? A man who is asking for your hand in marriage?”
“I told you, that is only for revenge. It does not mean he has any feeling for me. I am sure he only wants to make me suffer for how I hurt him.”
“He may say that is what it’s for. He may even believe it. But deep inside, I don’t think so. I cannot believe a man would want to tie himself to a woman for the rest of his life—for any reason—knowing that he despised her. If you went to him, explained to him—”
“Never!” Angela looked even more horrified. “Tell Cam about Dunstan and our marriage?”
“No. I did not mean you had to explain everything. Just tell him you cannot marry again, for … for personal reasons. Explain how you feel about marrying. Remind him that it isn’t Jeremy’s fault and ask him not to punish Jeremy and your family.”
“I don’t think Cam is overflowing with sympathy for my family.”
“He will listen to you. It at least warrants a try, don’t you think?”
“Yes. I suppose you are right. It is just—oh, Kate, it scares me. I don’t want to have to talk to him. Just seeing him tonight made me feel so strange. It was him, my Cam, and yet he seemed so different. And I am different, not the same person I was back then. I was foolish and naive and … and … so emotional.”
Kate smiled sadly. “Yes. I remember how you were. Always full of spirit.”
Angela frowned, uneasy. It made her feel unsettled even to remember those feelings, let alone to think of talking to Cam. However, she knew she could not hide from everything. She had spent many years forcing herself to do things that frightened her. Unconsciously, she stiffened her spine. “You are right. I will talk to Cam.”
Angela was sorry to find out that the occasion to talk to Cam alone presented itself to her the very next morning. She went down to breakfast early, as she was accustomed to doing. Generally she did so alone, since Jeremy kept town hours even when at Bridbury, and her mother and grandmother were wont to breakfast in their rooms. This morning, however, as she stepped into the dining room, she found Cam Monroe and Mr. Pettigrew already seated at the table.
“Miss Stanhope.” Mr. Pettigrew jumped to his feet. “That is, my lady. Forgive me, I am quite useless with these titles.”
Cam, whose back had been to her, turned at his employee’s words and also rose to his feet. He looked at her without expression and gave her a small bow. “My lady.”
Angela, who had stopped dead when she saw them, realized that she could not turn now and flee, as had been her first thought. She forced a small smile onto her face. “Good morning, gentlemen.”
The footman came forward to pour a cup of coffee for her at her usual place. Unfortunately, this place was beside Cam’s chair. The thought of sitting next to him made Angela’s lungs feel as if all the air were being crushed from them. But it would be rudely obvious if she was to change places after the servant had already placed her there. So she walked stiffly over to her chair and sat down, avoiding Cam’s eyes. She wished she could avoid his very presence, as well, but that was impossible. He filled up too much space and was entirely too close to her. She was aware of the heat of his skin, of his size, his breath, the faint lingering scent of his shaving soap.
She took a sip of her coffee, hoping that the trembling in her hands did not betray her too much, and glanced surreptitiously down at the men’s plates. Their plates were full; they had obviously just sat down, and they would just as obviously be here awhile. Angela considered getting herself only toast, so that she could eat quickly and leave. After all, the way her stomach felt right now, she could not eat anything, anyway.
However, when she got up and went to the breakfront, she found herself filling her plate like a trencherman, just to delay her