Impulse (22 page)

“You can turn around now,” Angela said cheerfully. “It's all right.”

He turned, trying to smile and hoping that she would not notice his aroused state. She looked utterly delectable in her high-necked white cotton nightgown, demure and chaste, just waiting for the awakening touch of a man. No, it was not all right, he thought. It was definitely all wrong. But that, he knew, was the way he was going to have to live with it.

 

When they reached Bridbury the next afternoon, Kate was the first one out of the house, with Jason Pettigrew a close second behind her. Angela hugged Kate heartily and let her whisk her off upstairs to unpack and refresh herself after the journey. Angela cast a last look back at Cam and saw that Mr. Pettigrew was already steering him toward the library. Cam glanced over at her and smiled, shrugging his arms in a gesture that indicated he had no choice but to go with the man. Angela waved back and followed Kate lightly up the stairs.

“No need to ask you if you enjoyed your holiday,” Kate said, smiling cheerfully. “There's more color in your cheeks than I've seen in years.”

“We were out in the sun a great deal,” Angela replied.

“I'm sure that's the reason for it. It couldn't be happiness, could it?”

“Well, perhaps a little. I did have a grand time. It was beautiful there, and we walked all over and we talked… oh, the way we used to. It may not seem like much, but it was very pleasant. And he is such a good man, a kind man.”

Kate's eyes sparkled. She could not have hoped for a better report from her friend. It was obvious that Cam had gone a long way toward winning back her heart. Perhaps he had even succeeded.

“And what about you?” Angela went on in a teasing voice. “It seems to me that there is a certain twinkle in your eye, a certain lilt to your walk. What has been going on here?”

To Angela's amazement, Kate colored a little. She glanced behind them, to see how close the footmen were with Angela's trunks. The men were just starting up the staircase, a distance that apparently reassured Kate, and she drew closer to Angela, saying in a confidential voice, “I will admit that I have gotten to know Mr. Pettigrew a little better.”

“Indeed?”

“Yes. And he is not such a stuffed shirt as he appears to be at first. When he's away from business, he loosens up, and then he can be quite…charming. He went with me to visit Mum on my day off last Sunday, and he sat down right there at the kitchen table with us and talked. Told her all kinds of things about America and his family and all. He even laughed.”

“No!” Angela feigned shock. “I don't believe you.”

“Well, 'tis true,” Kate retorted, chuckling. She cast her eyes down demurely and said, “And the walk back from Mum's was not unpleasant, either.”

“Kate Harrison…” Angela began tsk-tsking. “If your mother knew…”

“Yes, well, she won't, will she? Now, tell me about your trip.”

“We met Cam's uncles.”

“Uncles! Really?” Kate stopped and stared at her. “You found his mother's family, then?”

“Yes, and one of them would not acknowledge him, claimed he didn't even know Cam's mother. But the other one, who lives in Edinburgh, was terribly nice. We went to see him on the way back here, and he was overjoyed
to see him. The two of them talked, and he wants to see Cam again. I think Cam was very touched.”

They reached Angela's bedroom and walked in. Angela looked around with a sigh. “It's lovely. You know, it feels so nice to be home. I mean, the trip was wonderful, and Cam could not have been kinder or more considerate. But…”

“But what?”

“There was always a certain tension between us, too.” Angela busied herself with untying her bonnet and setting it down. “I am falling in love with Cam all over again, Kate, and I don't know what to do.”

“I shouldn't think that would be a problem.”

“Not for a normal woman, but I am not normal.”

“Don't be silly.”

“I mean it. I feel things for him. I really do. I have so much affection for him. I enjoy being with him. Sometimes I even get a tingle all through me when I see him coming toward me. There are moments when he smiles at me or he touches my arm, and I feel a thrill, the kind of thing I used to feel. Once, you know, he kissed me, and I—” She broke off, blushing.

“My lady, there is nothing wrong with that.”

“No—it's that I cannot feel any more than that! We did nothing. We reached a certain point, and I just went rigid.” A flood of scarlet washed up her neck and face. “This is so humiliating, to be talking about things like this.”

“It's all right, my lady. You know that you can tell me anything.”

“I know.” Angela smiled at her. “And I am very grateful for that. There is no one else in the world I could tell these things to. Only you can understand. And, God
knows, you have seen me in much more humiliating circumstances.”

“That devil Dunstan!” Kate spat, her hands tightening into fists. “I still wish I could get my hands around his neck and choke him to death for the things he did to you. But you cannot let that wicked man ruin this for you, too.”

Angela sighed and sank down on her vanity chair, unbuttoning the bodice of her dress. Kate came up behind her and began to take the pins from her hair.

“I will rub some lavender water on your temples, and you can lie down and sleep a bit. You'll feel better after that.”

“This is something I don't think can be cured by a nap and lavender water. I am damaged, Kate. I kept hoping that somehow I would change, that with Cam it would be different. How can I feel as if I am falling in love with him, and yet be so cold and stiff whenever he takes me in his arms?”

“Oh, my lady…” Kate put her hands on Angela's shoulders and squeezed. Her heart swelled with pity for the other woman. “Maybe in time…”

“How? It's already been four years since the divorce. How much time will it take? How long can I make Cam wait? It's so awful. I sense his desire. The air practically hums with it. I know it hurts him when I turn away from him. He won't want to continue like that for the rest of his life. How could he? He will grow tired of it. He will resent me. One of these days, I know that he will stop trying.”

“I am sure Cam understands. He will be patient.”

“No man is patient enough for that. Anyway, he doesn't know about, you know, exactly what marriage to Dunstan was like.”

“You mean you haven't told him?”

“No.” Angela whirled around and caught Kate by the wrist, looking determinedly up into her eyes. “And don't you tell him, either. I forbid it!”

“But why? My lady, he should know. Otherwise, how can he understand?”

“I don't want him to know those things.” Her grip tightened. “It's too awful, too humiliating. I couldn't bear for him to know, to think about what I did, what Dunstan did, every time he looks at me. I will be soiled in his eyes forever.”

“No, no, I am sure that isn't true. You should tell him, give him a chance.”

“No.” She shook her head firmly. “I cannot risk it. I think Cam still sees me as the girl he used to love— unsullied, pure. That is the person for whom he has feelings. If he knew what I really am, what I have done…”

“What you did was never your fault!” Kate shot back. “It was that monster's!”

“I know. But I cannot escape the stain of it.” Tears welled in Angela's eyes, and she fought to hold them back. “I know that I am dirty, that if Cam touches me, it will soil him, too.”

“I am sure Cam would not think so.”

“How do you know?” Angela looked at her earnestly. “Knowing what happened, how could he look at me and not feel disgust?
I
feel disgust.”

“Of course you do, but that disgust should be for Lord Dunstan, not yourself. He is an evil, wicked man.”

“I know. But that does not change the way I feel. It does not keep me from turning to stone whenever Cam takes me in his arms. All I can think of is Dunstan, and then—” She broke off, closing her eyes.

Kate put an arm around her, bending her head to Angela's sympathetically. “It will be all right, my lady. I don't know what will happen, but somehow, someway, everything will turn out all right.”

But Kate's assurances did little good. Angela's spirits were still low that evening, and when she went to bed, she could not go to sleep for a long time. She lay awake, thinking about Cam on the other side of the connecting door. It was no longer locked. She knew that Cam would not come through it. He was too honorable, and because of that, she knew that he lay on the other side of the door, suffering.

She hated to think of that. She would have given anything if she could feel differently. But even thinking of letting him into her bed, of feeling the weight of his body pressing her down into the mattress, pinning her, made her whole body tighten. She knew that she could not, that she would never be able to, and despair crept over her. For the millionth time, she cursed Dunstan's name, and wished that he had never tainted her life.

 

She was running. The green hedges grew up high all around her, blocking out her sight. Her breath rasped in her throat; her lungs were seared. She could taste blood, and she knew that soon she would have to drop to the ground, exhausted, unable to run anymore, and then he would catch up with her. She ran on and on, running into dead ends and having to turn around and run back out, looking for the right path. Behind her, she could hear his laughter, wild and high-pitched, as he staggered drunkenly after her.

“Oh, Angie…come here, my little angel. Oh, Aaaangie. Papa's got a surprise for you. A big one. Don't you want to see?”

The others would join in his laughter, hooting and whistling and shouting encouragement to him or to her, whichever took their fancy. She knew that they would be making bets. There would be no help from them. She had felt their pinches and pawings, heard their laughter and lewd remarks, as she ran from the room, enduring their gauntlet. All of them were wanting to watch him catch her, as if she were a fox and Dunstan the hunter. They wanted to see what he would do to her when he caught her.

She ached all over. She stumbled and fell, crawling until she could regain her footing, and then she was running again. He was closer now; she could hear his breathing behind her. She dared not turn around. Then she saw with awful finality the statue at the center of the maze, looming above all else, the satyric grin on his stone face, the huge member thrusting out. And behind her, he was laughing, laughing….

“Angela! Angela, wake up.”

She moaned. He grasped her shoulder and was shaking her, saying her name.

“No!” She lashed out, striking at him, twisting and turning, trying to pull away from him.

“Angela! Wake up! It's me, Cam. Darling, wake up. You're having a nightmare.”

Angela's eyes flew open, and she stared up blankly at Cam's face. Then his identity penetrated the fog of her dream, and she let out a cry, throwing herself into his arms.

“Cam! Oh, Cam!” She began to cry, shivering all over and unable to stop. She wrapped her arms around his neck convulsively. “I thought he was going to get me. I was so scared. Thank God!”

“Shh. It's all right. He's not going to get you. Nobody's
going to get you.” Cam sat down on the bed beside her, gathering her up in his arms and setting her on his lap, wrapping her in his arms. “I'm right here. Nothing bad is going to happen. I won't let it. Nobody can get you.”

She held on to him, sobbing, as he rocked back and forth, murmuring soothing words and stroking her hair and back. He murmured the same words over and over in a litany of comfort and security, assuring her that nothing could get her, that he would protect her. Slowly her sobs died away into shudders, and she lay against his chest quiescently, her body limp and trembling.

“There. It's all right.” Cam stroked his hand over her hair and down her back. “There, now. You feel better?”

Angela nodded silently, not raising her head from his chest. She was utterly listless and drained, in a sort of shock. She had felt the same sort of dazed nothingness, only worse, after most episodes with Dunstan, as though she had left her bruised and humiliated body and lay floating in another place, watching the pitiful wreck of her self.

“You just had a nightmare. None of it was real.”

She nodded again, indicating her understanding. It was very soothing to lean against Cam's warm body, to hear the steady thump of his heart beneath her head. She was cold, but his arms surrounded her, warming her.

After a long time of stroking her back, Cam asked gently, “What were you dreaming about? What was chasing you?”

“Dunstan,” she said through bloodless lips, too tired and will-less to hold back the words.

She felt him stiffen beneath her. “Lord Dunstan? Your former husband?”

She nodded again. There was a moment of silence. Then Cam said in a careful, too-calm voice, “Why was he chasing you?”

“To catch me. He… I disobeyed him. He was going to…to chastise me.”

“Chastise you?” Cam's arms tightened around her. “What do you mean, chastise you?”

“You know, punish me. For not obeying him.”

“Angel…is this just a dream, or did he really do this to you?”

“He did it to me.” She had thought she was empty of tears, but they welled in her eyes once again and rolled down her cheeks. She buried her face in his chest.

“He hurt you?” Cam snapped, and she jumped at the fierce sound. “I'm sorry,” he said in a softer voice, stroking her hair. “I didn't mean to say it so loud. I just— Tell me what he did, sweetheart.”

She shook her head, the tears falling faster. Her shoulders began to shake. “I can't.”