guilty not to, when it would help him so much. I donât know what he will do if Cam calls in those notes or closes down the mine. Or both. Jeremy will be destroyed.â
âThen you must convince Cam not to do it.â
âI? You jest. Cam hates me.â
âHates you? A man who is asking for your hand in marriage?â
âI 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.â
âHe may say that is what itâs for. He may even believe it. But deep inside, I donât think so. I cannot believe a man would want to tie himself to a woman for the rest of his lifeâfor any reasonâknowing that he despised her. If you went to him, explained to himââ
âNever!â Angela looked even more horrified. âTell Cam about Dunstan and our marriage?â
âNo. I did not mean you had to explain everything. Just tell him you cannot marry again, forâ¦for personal reasons. Explain how you feel about marrying. Remind him that it isnât Jeremyâs fault and ask him not to punish Jeremy and your family.â
âI donât think Cam is overflowing with sympathy for my family.â
âHe will listen to you. It at least warrants a try, donât you think?â
âYes. I suppose you are right. It is justâoh, Kate, it scares me. I donât 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 andâ¦andâ¦so emotional.â
Kate smiled sadly. âYes. I remember how you were. Always full of spirit.â
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. âYou are right. I will talk to Cam.â
Â
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.
âMiss Stanhope.â Mr. Pettigrew jumped to his feet. âThat is, my lady. Forgive me, I am quite useless with these titles.â
Cam, whose back had been to her, turned at his employeeâs words and also rose to his feet. He looked at her without expression and gave her a small bow. âMy lady.â
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. âGood morning, gentlemen.â
The footman came forward to pour a cup of coffee for her at her usual place. Unfortunately, this place was beside Camâs chair. The thought of sitting next to him made Angelaâs 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 Camâs 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 menâs plates. Their plates were full; they had obviously just sat down, and