Read Online Impulse by Candace Camp - Free Book Online Page A

the maid Kate polishing the brass sconces in the hall, which he could see through the open door of the study, and turned to look at his employer, who was pacing back and forth across the room, his brow furrowed.
    â€œShe is the most exasperating female,” Monroe was saying, his mouth set in a grim expression. “Not at all the way she was when I knew her.”
    â€œI’m sure not, sir,” Pettigrew agreed, firmly thrusting aside the memory of the neat turn of Kate’s ankles as she stood on the stool, stretching up to reach the sconce, and the jiggle of her bosom beneath the maid’s uniform as she rubbed at the metal.
    Cam paused, thinking about Angela as she had been thirteen years earlier—sparkling and full of life, her eyes lighting up whenever she saw him, that irrepressible smile bursting across her face. He could still remember how eagerly he had awaited each sight of her, how his heart had pounded in his chest whenever she came near. And it had not been only her beauty, but her spirit and sweetness, as well. But then, he reminded himself harshly, he had not really known her at all. What he remembered of her had been merely his illusion, the fiction that he had attached to her beauty.
    â€œNo doubt I am a fool even to try to marry her.”
    Pettigrew looked up warily at Monroe’s words. They were the first thing his employer had said about this whole matter that made any sense to him. “Perhaps,” he began tentatively, “we should return to London, then.”
    Cam flashed him a look that sent the faint hope of leaving out of his head. “No doubt. But I’m not going to. Damn it! She is going to be my wife.”
    Pettigrew shifted uneasily in his chair. He had worked for Cameron Monroe for almost seven years, and in all that time, he had never seen him like this. God knew, he could be a hard man, and he was driven by demons that Jason did not understand, but Monroe was always practical, patient and, above all, calm and self-possessed, even to the point of coldness. He had never acted irrationally or in the heat of the moment…until now.
    What he was doing made no sense to Jason. It was hardly as if there were not plenty of young women back in the U.S. who would be more than happy to be Mrs. Cameron Monroe. He was one of the wealthiest men in the country, and he was still young, no more than thirty- three or thirty-four, as well as quite handsome. There had been any number of hopeful mothers throwing their daughters in his path the past few years. And if he was so set on marrying into the English nobility—another thing Jason Pettigrew found difficult to understand—it was well-known that there were plenty of impoverished nobles in Britain who would be more than willing to make a financially advantageous marriage for one of their daughters.
    However, Cam was dead set on this one family and this one woman, who, having been involved in a scandalous divorce, was not even socially acceptable. It was not as if she were beautiful, either. Pettigrew would admit that she was pretty…in a very subdued way. Herblue eyes were fine and intelligent, her oval face was almost perfectly modeled, and her hair was an intriguing reddish color. But her features were devoid of animation, and she wore her hair screwed tightly into a bun. Her clothes were dark and drab, successfully hiding whatever sort of figure she had. Jason did not think he had once seen her smile or heard her laugh since he came to Bridbury. Certainly she exhibited none of the feminine graces or flirtatious airs that were likely to lure a man.
    Yet Monroe was determined to have her, even to the point of using all the force of his power and wealth to coerce her into marrying him. Certainly Pettigrew was not fool enough to try to dissuade Cam Monroe from a course he was set upon.
    â€œI thought she would be reasonable,” Monroe went on. “Pragmatic. God knows she went to Dunstan willingly