Winsor, Kathleen (67 page)

Amber
and Bruce were immediately separated, for she had her duties as hostess and he
was captured by a circle of merchants who wanted to know when the war would
begin, how many ships he had taken, and if it was true that there was a plague
in Holland which would lay her so low she would be an easy victim. They asked
him why the King did not mend his ways, how long the idleness and corruption at
Court would continue and, privately, whether it was a safe investment to loan
his Majesty a large sum of money. "Our ships," "our trade,"
"our seas," were the words that sounded over and over. The women
gathered in groups to talk of their children, their pregnancies and their
servants. Almost everyone would remark, sometime during the course of the
evening, that England had been far happier under Old Oliver; they forgot how
they had grumbled about that same Old Oliver.

They
drifted out of the dining-room and back to the drawing-room to seat themselves
about little round tables or on chairs and benches. And Amber, whose eyes
followed Bruce wherever he went, even when she seemed most occupied with
something else, was furious when Jemima at last succeeded in maneuvering him
away from his questioners and into a corner alone with her. They sat down,
plates on their laps, and began to talk.

Jemima
was chattering at him and smiling, her eyes ashine with happiness and
passionate admiration as she plied on him all the pretty tricks of a natural
flirt. Bruce sat and watched her and now and then he said something, but though
he seemed only lazily amused Amber was in a state of anguished jealousy.

She
made several starts to go over and interrupt them, but each time someone
stopped her. At last one old dowager with a bosom like a shelf and the face of
a petulant spaniel said to her: "Jemima seems mightily smitten with his
Lordship. She's been making sheep's-eyes at him all evening. Let me tell you,
Mrs. Dangerfield, if Jemima was my daughter I'd find a way to get her out of
his company—I admire his Lordship's exploits on the sea as much as anyone, but
his reputation with women is none of the best, you can take my word for
that."

Amber
was horrified. "Oh, heaven! Thank you for telling me, Mrs. Humpage. I'll
take a course with her this instant."

And
immediately she was off across the room to where Joseph Cuttle stood in a
corner talking to Henry and trying to pretend he did not know Jemima was with a
man who was not only handsome and titled but a hero into the bargain.

"Why,
Joseph!" she cried. "Where have you been all evening? Whatever are
you doing over here? I'll wager you haven't spoke so much as a word to
Jemima!"

Joseph
blushed and shuffled one foot awkwardly, while Henry looked into his
step-mother's neckline. "I'm having a fine time, Mrs. Dangerfield. Jemima's
busy."

"Nonsense,
Joseph! Why, she'll never forgive you if you serve her at this rate!" she
took his wrist, kindness and encouragement in her eyes. "Come along,
Joseph—you can't help your cause with her by standing over here."

They
began to make their way across the room and Amber kept a firm hold on Joseph's
hand, as though afraid that he would bolt and run. But Amber dragged him up to
Bruce and Jemima, ignoring the reproachful accusing stare Jemima gave her, and
presented him to Lord Carlton.

"I'm
going to let you and Joseph start the dancing, Jemima," she said sweetly.
"You can begin with coranto."

Reluctantly
Jemima got to her feet, but her face began to sparkle again as she turned to
Bruce. "Excuse me, your Lordship?"

Bruce
bowed. "Certainly, madame. And I thank you for your company at
supper."

Jemima
gave him a long smile, one he was not intended to forget—ignoring the tormented
boy by her side—and then with a brief curtsy to Amber she went off toward the
ballroom, but she did not take Joseph's arm or seem aware that he was with her.

Amber
waited until they were out of ear-shot and then she turned to Bruce, to find
him smiling down at her. He seemed to know exactly what she was thinking.
"Well!" she said, "And did you have a pleasant evening!"

"Very
pleasant. Thank you for inviting me. And now—" He glanced across the room
at a clock. "I must be going."

"Oh,
you must be going!" she repeated sarcastically. "As soon as
I
come along you must be going!"

"I
have business at Whitehall."

"I
can imagine what
your
business is!"

"Smile
a little, Amber," he said softly. "Some of your guests are beginning
to wonder at your familiarity with me. A woman never quarrels with a man she
doesn't know well."

His
mocking tone made her furious, but what he said scared her even more. And now
she forced a bright smile onto her mouth if not into her eyes, and gave a quick
sweeping glance to see if they were being watched. I've
got
to be
careful! she warned herself. If anyone guessed— Oh Lord, if they ever guessed!

She
raised her voice a little, smiling. "I'm so glad you could come tonight,
Lord Carlton. It isn't often we have the company of a man who's done so much
for England."

Bruce
bowed, bending with his careless, light feline grace. "Thank you, madame.
Good-night."

He
left her then and made his way across the room to speak to Samuel. Suddenly
Amber, who had turned about to talk to a white-haired old gentleman, left him
with the excuse that she must see about replenishing the wine. In the hallway
she picked up her skirts and ran as fast as she could go, out the door and
round to the front courtyard where she saw Bruce just getting into a coach.

"Lord
Carlton!" she cried breathlessly, her high heels clicking as she ran
across the brick pavement toward him.

He
stopped, turning to look at her. "Did you call me, Mrs. Dangerfield?"

"I
have a message from my husband, your Lordship." With that she climbed into
the coach and beckoned him to follow her, motioning the footman then to close
the door. "Bruce— when can I see you again?"

"Amber,
you little fool! What are you thinking about?" His voice was impatient and
there was an angry look in his eyes. "You've got to use more sense this
time!"

She
frowned a little as she glanced out the window, wishing that that stupid
footman would go away with his torch, for it sent a flaring light in upon them.
"I'll be careful! Only I've got to see you, Bruce! When? I can come any
time."

"Come
to the ships tomorrow, then. We'll be unloading and no one will be surprised if
you're there."

"I'll
be there in the morning."

She
leaned a little toward him, longing for a kiss.

"Amber!"

Reluctantly
she got out of the coach and ran back into the house again. To her horrified
amazement she found the drawing-rooms in an uproar of excitement and turmoil,
though she had left her guests talking and laughing and beginning to dance.

"What
is it? What's happened?" She rushed up to the first person she saw.

"It's
your husband, Mrs. Dangerfield. He's fainted."

"Fainted!"

The
terrible thought went through her mind that he had somehow guessed or been told
about her and Bruce and that the shock had brought on a stroke. She was more
worried for herself than for Samuel, as she ran up the stairs.

She
found the outer rooms full of people, servants and members of the family, but without
stopping to speak to them she went directly into the bedroom. Samuel lay at
full length on the bed and Lettice knelt beside him, while the four oldest
brothers stood anxiously nearby. None of them glanced at her.

Dr.
de Forest, who was his physician and who had been at supper, was holding his
wrist and taking the count of his pulse.

Instinctively
Amber lowered her voice to whisper. "What happened? I went out to see
about the wine and when I came back they said he had fainted."

"He
has,"
said Sam curtly.

Amber
went to stand beside the bed, on the opposite side
from Lettice.
She did not dare look at her or at the others, but she sensed that none of them
was paying her any attention; all interest was focused on their father. And
though it seemed to her that she waited there for an endless time, it was
actually but a few minutes. When he opened his lids he was looking up at
Lettice; his eyes shifted, searching for Amber, and when he found her he
smiled. She was watching him breathlessly, afraid that now he would say
something that would tell her she was caught.

She
bent across the bed and kissed him gently. "You're here, Samuel, with us.
There's nothing to worry about."

"I
don't remember what happened—I thought we were—"

"You
fainted, sir," said Dr. de Forest.

Lettice
was crying, very softly so that she would disturb no one, and her eldest
brother reached down and took her by the shoulders to raise her to her feet. At
the doctor's request they left the room, all but Amber. He began to talk to
them both then, very seriously, of the necessity for Samuel to be perfectly
quiet for a few days, to avoid exertion of any kind—and he particularly
addressed himself to Amber who looked at him solemnly and nodded her head.

"You
must help your husband, Mrs. Dangerfield," he said privately to Amber when
she was showing him out. "His life's in jeopardy if you don't. You
understand me?"

"Yes,
Dr. de Forest. I will."

When
she came back Samuel took her hand and smiled. "Dr. de Forest is full of
ridiculous notions. We won't pay any attention to him, will we?"

But
Amber answered him firmly. "Yes, we
will,
Samuel. He says it's for
your good and we will. We must. Promise me, Samuel—promise you'll do as he
says."

He
was obviously embarrassed, but Amber was insistent. She would allow him to do
no thing, not the smallest, which might be injurious to his health. And they
would be just as happy as before—he must never think that it mattered to her in
any way at all. Nothing mattered to her but his safety and well-being. Samuel,
deeply touched by this manifestation of tender devotion, could not restrain a
few tears. But while she sat beside him and talked and stroked his head Amber
was thinking that if she became pregnant now the child would be Lord Carlton's
—and if only it happened soon, Samuel would think it his own.

The
next morning he was feeling somewhat better, but Amber insisted that he remain
in bed as the doctor had said he should, and much against her will she stayed
in the room with him. About one o'clock Jemima came in with her two oldest
brothers to say that they were going down to watch Lord Carlton's ships being
unloaded.

"Why
don't you go with them, my dear?" Samuel asked Amber. "You've been
shut up here with me all day."

Jemima
looked at her anxiously, obviously hoping that she would not come, and though
for a moment or two Amber
insisted that she could not leave him she allowed herself to be persuaded. But
the trip was a disappointment. They had not so much as a word alone together
and Bruce was so busy he seemed scarcely aware of her presence. Her only
consolation was that Jemima was as much disappointed as she was, and did not
conceal it so well.

He
did, however, make each of them a handsome present To Jemima he gave a
magnificent length of material which looked as though molten gold had been
poured over a piece of silk, and a pattern etched in it by sensitive fingers
holding a feather; to Amber he gave an elaborate necklace of topaz and gold.
Both gifts had been captured from one of the Dutch ships returning from the East
Indies.

But
early the next morning she slipped out of the house in a black cloak and mask
and took a hackney to Almsbury House. They spent half an hour in the nursery
with the baby and Emily and Almsbury, and then they went back to his
apartments.

"Suppose
someone finds out about this," he said.

Amber
was confident. "They won't. Samuel was asleep and Nan was to say I went to
have a gown fitted, so I wouldn't have to trouble him with women about in the
room." She smiled up at him. "Oh, I'm a marvellously devoted wife,
I'll warrant you."

"You're
a hard-hearted little bitch," he said. "I pity the men who love
you."

But
she was too happy to get angry about anything, and there was a light in his
green eyes as he sat looking at her which would have made her forgive anything.
She went over and sat on his lap, putting her arms about his neck and her mouth
against his smooth-shaven cheek.

"But
you love me, Bruce—and I've never hurt you. I don't think I could if I
tried," she added with a pout.

He
gave a lift of one eyebrow and smiled. He had never indulged in the extravagant
compliments which were a fashion among the gallants, and she sometimes wondered
jealously if he paid them to other women. Jemima perhaps.

"What
do you think of Jemima?" she asked him now.

"Why,
she's very pretty—and na
ïve
as a Maid of Honour her first week at Court."