Impulse. Candace Camp

I think about you all the time. Sometimes I think I’ll never make it through the day, I want you so much. Today, when you went out riding with that insufferable toad Dunstan and I had to watch him flirting with you, eyeing you … I wanted to murder him.”

      His mouth moved back up the smooth expanse of her throat, and he let her slide slowly down until her feet were once again on the floor. He kissed her lips, opening her mouth to his, and his tongue plunged inside, exploring, caressing, arousing. Angela trembled under the onset of pleasure.

      “Angela!” Her grandfather’s voice roared through the stables.

      They sprang apart and whirled around. Angela’s grandfather stood just inside the stable door, flanked by her brother Jeremy and Lord Dunstan, the very gentleman her grandfather and grandmother had been pursuing so assiduously.

      The Earl rushed toward them, his white hair flying, his face mottled with fury. “Goddamn you, you young jackanapes! How dare you put your filthy hands on a Stanhope!”

      He wielded his cane like a club, bringing it down with all his strength on Cam’s head. Luckily, Cam was young and quick enough to move, so that it did not strike him full on the head, but glanced off the side. Still, the force of it was enough to stun him and split his skin. He dropped dazedly to his knees, and blood welled up out of the cut beside his eye.

      “Grandpapa!” Angela shrieked, and threw herself at her grandfather as he raised his arm to strike again. “Stop! No! Don’t hurt him!”

      At all the commotion, Wicker, the head groom, came pounding down the stairs at the far end of the stables, where the grooms lived, and ran toward them, followed by two of the other grooms. “My lord, my lord, what is it? What’s the matter?”

      The men stopped short at the sight of the scene before them. Wicker’s mouth dropped open, and one of the lads murmured, “Blimey!”

      The Earl of Bridbury let loose a string of curses. Grabbing Angela’s arm, he thrust her at Jeremy. “Take your sister back to the house. I’ll deal with this young devil.”

      Jeremy grasped his sister’s arm tightly, but she struggled, trying to wrench her arm away. “No! I won’t go! Let go of me! Cam!”

      She turned toward Cam, who had lurched to his feet and stood facing her grandfather defiantly. At her cry, Cam started forward, but the Earl made a gesture with his cane, and Wicker and the other grooms seized Cam before he could reach Jeremy and Angela and dragged him back.

      “Stop!” Angela shrieked. “No, don’t hurt him! Let go of me!” She twisted and fought to get away, but Jeremy wrapped his arm around her waist and lifted her bodily from the floor, starting toward the door. She screamed, and her brother clamped his hand over her mouth.

      “For God’s sake, Angie, will you stop it?” he exclaimed. “You’ll have everyone in the house out here to witness this. It’s bad enough as it is.”

      “Angela!” Behind them, Cam lunged and struggled, fighting to get away from his captors, but the three grooms held on tightly.

      Angela turned her head for one last glimpse of him. Then Dunstan opened the door for Jeremy, and he staggered outside with her. Dunstan followed them, closing the door after him and cutting off her view of Cam. Angela began to cry. Jeremy carried her determinedly toward the house, and as he walked, Angela’s struggles gradually subsided. She realized the futility of it; Jeremy was stronger than she, and she hadn’t a hope of getting away from him, not with the iron grip he had on her now. And having Lord Dunstan witness her vain struggles was humiliating. When they reached the door into the kitchens, Jeremy took his hand from her mouth and set her on her feet.

      “I’m going to take you up to your room,” he told her. “We’ll go up the back staircase, so no one will see you, but if you start screaming, I shall have to put my hand over your mouth again. And you can’t get away. Here, Dunstan, take her other arm.”

      “No!” Angela drew as far away from the other man as she could. “I won’t try to get away or scream. I promise.” It would be too awful to have this stranger holding her arm as if she were a prisoner.

      “Good.” Jeremy opened the door and propelled her into the enormous kitchen, past the gazes of the interested servants and up the back staircase. “Honestly, Angela, whatever has gotten into you? Hanging about the stables with one of the grooms? Your reputation will be ruined if word of this gets out.”

      “I don’t care! I love Cam, and I’m going to marry him!”

      Jeremy’s mouth dropped open, and Dunstan let out a crack of laughter.

      “Marry a stable boy?” he repeated caustically. “Oh, I say, that is rich.”

      “Angela, be serious. You could not possibly marry one of the grooms. That’s absurd.”

      “I love him.” Her voice gave a betraying quaver as she went on. “Do you think Grandpapa will hurt him? He hasn’t done anything wrong.”

      “I’d say you have an odd idea of right and wrong, then, if you don’t think it wrong for one of the servants to be taking the sixteen-year-old daughter of the house out to the stables and making love to her!”

      “He didn’t!” she cried fiercely. “I mean, we never …”

      “Well, thank God for that, at least, though it would still mean your reputation if anyone found out.”

      They reached her room, and Jeremy opened the door and pushed her inside. He reached around and took the key from the inside of the lock.

      “I’m sorry,” he told Angela, looking shamefaced. “But I can’t let you get out and go running back down to the stables.”

      Angela shot him a stony look. She wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of forgiveness. He tried another smile, then backed out of the room and closed the door. Angela heard the key turn in the lock. She turned, looking around her room. It had been her home for her entire life, but now it looked like a prison to her. She threw herself down on her bed and gave way to a storm of tears.

      It was two hours before the key turned again in the lock of her door. Angela slid off the bed and faced the door, smoothing her skirts down around her. She had been waiting and dreading and wondering so much that it was a relief to finally face her grandfather. She waited tensely as the door swung inward and her grandfather came in, closing the door after him.

      He was by himself, which relieved her further. She had expected him to bring her grandmother and perhaps even her mother with him, to lend their tears and arguments to his, and she had dreaded the prospect of fighting them all. It was bad enough to have to face him. His face was somber and creased with worry. He looked at her for a long moment, letting her see the depth of his disappointment and disapproval. Angela straightened her back and waited him out. Her father had died young, and her grandfather had stood in the role of father, as well as grandfather, to her and Jeremy. She knew that she owed him loyalty, as well as love, and guilt burned in her at the thought of causing him disappointment, even pain. But she was determined to have the man she loved as well, and she knew she must stand fast if she hoped to grasp the happiness she wanted.

      Finally, the Earl began, “He’s off the land. You won’t be seeing Cameron Monroe again.”

      Fear rose up in her, choking off her breath. “What did you do? Did you hurt him?”

      “No.” He shrugged. “No more than was necessary to send him packing. But I told him that if he ever shows his face on my land again, I’ll give orders to shoot him for trespassing.”

      “Grandpapa! I’ll never forgive you if you’ve harmed him!”

      “There’s no question here of what you will or will not forgive,” he replied harshly. “It’s you who should be worrying about earning my forgiveness. You’ve disgraced the family. It must be your mother’s blood in you—running off to tumble in the hay with a stable boy!”

      “I am sorry that you feel that way,” Angela