"There!" she cried triumphantly. "That must be him now!"
Amber, however, merely looked around over the back of her chair toward the door, expecting to see one of the gallants or perhaps Hart or Kynaston come to visit her. But as Nan threw open the door she saw that a young boy stood there, dressed in some unfamiliar livery, and she heard him ask:
"Madame St. Clare?"
"I'm Madame St. Clare!" She jumped up and ran across the room. "What is it?"
"I come from Mr. Progers, madame. My master presents his service to you and asks if you will wait upon him at his lodgings tonight at half-after eleven?"
It was the royal summons!
"Yes!" cried Amber. "Yes, of course I will!"
She picked up a coin off the table and gave it to him, and when he was gone she turned to throw her arms about Nan. "Oh, Nan! He did like me! He did remember! Only think! Tonight I'm going to the Palace!"
Suddenly she paused, made a stiff little bow and said: "Madame St. Clare? My master presents his service to you and asks if you will wait upon him tonight at his lodgings." And then she spun around and danced off across the room, laughing joyously. But in the midst of a whirl she stopped, her face serious again. "What shall I wear!" And chattering excitedly the two women ran into the bedroom. The clock on the mantel pointed to nine.
This time she was more sure than ever that he liked her.
Some of her earlier awe and self-consciousness was gone and they laughed and talked like old friends; she thought him the most fascinating man she had met since Lord Carlton. When she left he said, as he had the time before, "Good-night, my dear, and God bless you," gave her a playful slap on the buttocks, and another bagful of coins.
Tempest and Jeremiah were waiting for her at the Holbein Gate and they set off swiftly for home, rattling and clanging through the night.
But the coach had no sooner turned into the Strand than a party of horsemen rushed at them from out of the shadows. Before Amber knew what was happening Tempest had been hauled down from his perch and Jeremiah knocked to the ground. The horses began to rear and neigh with excitement. Amber was looking around her, wondering what she should do, when the door was flung open. A masked man leaned in, seized her by the wrist and began dragging her toward him. Amber screamed and started to struggle, though she knew well enough what little good that could do.
He gave her a rough shake. "Stop that! I won't hurt you— just hand me that bagful of coins his Majesty gave you! Quick!"
Amber was kicking at him and trying to tear his fingers loose from her wrist. But now as she leaned over to bite his hand he gave her a violent shove that knocked her across the coach and half onto the floor and she could see the gleam of moonlight on his levelled pistol. "Give me that bag, madame, or I'll shoot you! I have no time for playful tricks!"
Amber continued to hesitate, expecting to be rescued somehow, but as she heard the sound of the pistol cocking she took the bag from her muff and tossed it at him. He caught it, gave her a bow and backed away. But just before the door shut she heard a woman's triumphant laugh and a voice cried: "Many thanks, madame! Her Ladyship appreciates your charity! I promise you the money will be laid out in good cause!" The door slammed and there was a sound of prancing horses' hoofs as they wheeled about and then started off again at a gallop— riding back down King Street toward the Palace.
Amber lay for a moment without moving, dumfounded. That voice! she thought. I've heard it somewhere before! And then suddenly she remembered: It was the same laugh, the same aggressive, high-pitched feminine voice she had heard that night outside the Royal Saracen—it was Barbara Palmer!
That was the last of Amber's visits to Whitehall.
The King, it was well known, liked to live in peace and quiet, and a jealous woman's sharp venomous tongue could make that impossible. Fortunately for her though, gossip spread that Charles had said he liked Madame St. Clare well enough— but not to the point of sacrificing his ease for her. And that was all that saved her. As it was they kept at her for several days, stinging and biting like malicious insects, but at last they grew tired of baiting her and found another victim.
By the time a fortnight had passed her life had settled back to normal. Everyone but Amber had forgotten that the King had ever sent for her.
But she did not forget or intend to forget. She nursed her new grievance against Barbara Palmer as carefully as she had the old. Someday, she promised herself, I'll make her sorry she ever was born. I'll find a way to get even with her if it's the last thing I do on earth! She spent much time and found much pleasure in imagining her revenge, but those images, like everything else she could not see or touch, slid gradually into some back compartment of her mind to be saved and brought out again when she had a use for them.
She had been entertaining, one night, a dozen young men and women whom she had invited to supper and they had just gone home, leaving the tables littered with dishes, the floors covered with nut-shells and fruit-peelings and a torn deck of cards. There were wine-bottles and glasses, with only a sticky sediment in the bottoms, the air was thick with tobacco smoke, and the furniture had all been pushed out of place.
While Nan began to pile up dishes and pick up nut-shell Amber went to stand with her back to the fireplace, raising her skirts to warm her buttocks. It was mid-December and the ground was covered with snow, the first in three years, and even the Thames was frozen over. For a while they talked idly about who had said what, whether a certain lady was now having an affair with a certain gentleman or with another, or with both, and discussed at some length the gowns and coiffures and figures of the women who had been present, to the detriment of each.
Amber had taken off her gown and stood yawning and stretching in her puff-sleeved smock and frilly petticoats, when a low knock sounded at the door. Both of them started and then looked at each other, and Amber waited tensely as Nan crossed the room and flung back the bolt. Can it be—can it—
It was Captain Morgan who stood there, his long riding-cloak thrown across his shoulder, his hat pulled low. He looked in and his eyes met hers, pleading, his expression that of a small boy who has run away and now returns to his home. Instantly forgetting that she hoped it might be the King's messenger, Amber ran to him with her arms outstretched.
"Rex!"
"Amber!" He swung her up off the floor, kissing her face again and again, and at last he gave a kind of sobbing exultant laugh. "Oh, my God! I'm glad to see you!" He put her onto her feet again but kept her in his arms, stroking her head, running his hands eagerly over her back. "Jesus, darling! I couldn't stay away any longer! I love you—oh, God, I love you so much!"
There were tears in his eyes and from behind them came Nan's surreptitious sniffle as she stood and watched them, smiling and crying at the same time. They both turned to look at her and suddenly all three of them began to laugh.
"Come in, Rex darling! Close the door. Oh, how sweet of you to come back! Why— Have you been waiting outside for the others to leave?"
He smiled, gave a nod.
"But you knew them all! Why didn't you just come in! Lord, it's bitter-cold out there!"
He hesitated: "Well—I wasn't sure you'd—let me in."
"Oh, Rex!"
Suddenly and thoroughly ashamed of herself Amber stood staring at him, fully aware for the first time how kind and generous and good he had been to her, and great tears rolled down her cheeks.
"Here, darling! What are you crying for, you little minx? This is a night for celebrating! Look at this—" He reached into his pocket and drew out a jeweller's box, holding it toward her.
Slowly Amber took it from him and as she opened it Nan edged forward so that she could see too. As she lifted the lid both women gave a cry of astonished delight: there was a great topaz stone set in a golden heart, depending from a heavy golden chain. She looked up at him, doubtfully, for it must have cost a great deal. "Oh, Rex!" she said softly. "It's beautiful—but—"
He gave a wave of his han
d, dismissing her objections. "I had a run of luck with the dice not long ago. And here, Mrs. Nan, is something for you."
Nan opened the box he handed her to find a pair of gold ear-rings set with tiny pearls. She gave a little scream of pleasure and jumped up to kiss him on the cheek—for he was at least a foot taller than she—and then quickly recovering herself she blushed and curtsied and turned in confusion to run into the bedroom.
"Hey!" called Rex. "Just a moment there, Mrs. Nan! Your mistress and I have a fancy to that place." He swung Amber up in his arms and started toward it. "You'll have to sleep out here tonight, sweetheart. This is a very special occasion."
The months began to go by swiftly, for she was happy and popular and thought herself very famous. The winter was unusually cold and through December, January and February there were hard frosts with much snow and ice, but at last the frost broke and there came the slush and mud and the new green buds of spring. Killigrew had put her into leading parts again, and she was very busy with her singing and dancing and guitar lessons.
When they played at Court or when he came to the Theatre Amber saw King Charles, and though he sometimes smiled at her, that was all. She heard the gossip that he was less interested in Castlemaine than he had been and was now engrossed in lovely Frances Stewart, though so far, they said, he had not succeeded in overcoming her scruples. Some thought that Mrs. Stewart was a fool and others that she was very clever, but there was no doubt she had captured the fickle heart of the King, and that was distinction enough in itself. Amber did not care whom he fell in love with if only Barbara Palmer lost by it.
In the middle of February Amber found herself pregnant again. And though she hesitated for some time, not telling Rex but arguing with herself as to whether or not she should marry him, in the end she went to Mrs. Fagg and had an abortion. This time it took more than a pot of herbs and a ride in a hackney and made her so sick that she had to spend most of a week in bed. Rex was wild with anger and fear when he found what she had done and begged her to marry him immediately.
"Why won't you, Amber? You say you love me—"
"I do love you, Rex, but—"
"But what?"
"Well, what if Luke—"
"He'll never come back and you know it as well as I do! Even if he did, it wouldn't matter. I could either kill him or get someone at Court to have the marriage annulled. What is it, Amber? Sometimes I think you put me off in hopes the King will send for you again. Is that it?"
She was sitting half-propped up in bed, pale and sick and discouraged, staring at nothing. "No, Rex, that's not it. You know it isn't."
She was lying, for she did still hope, but nevertheless she was almost convinced that if she did not marry Rex Morgan now she would regret it in the future. What did it matter if she left the stage? She had been playing for a year and a half and could not see that she had got anything by it. Her nineteenth birthday was less than a month away and she felt that the time was passing rapidly, leaving her in a backwash. And it was true, as she had said, that she loved him, though she could never quite force from her heart the memory of Lord Carlton or her ambitions for a more glorious and exciting life.
"Let me think about it, Rex—just a little longer."
Her son was to be two years old on the 5th day of April and, because she would not be free that day, Amber planned instead to go out on the 1st and take him the gifts she had bought. Rex left at seven while it was still dark outside, and the eaves dripped with rain that had fallen during the night.
He kissed her tenderly. "Twelve hours until I'll see you again. Have a good trip, darling, and give the little fellow a kiss for me."
"Why, Rex! Thank you!" Amber's eyes sparkled with pleasure, for usually Rex ignored her trips as he wanted to ignore the fact that she had a child; but since she had almost agreed to marry him he had evidently decided that he must reconcile himself to his step-son. "I'll bring one back from him to you!"
He kissed her again, gave a wave of his hand to Nan Britton, and was gone. Amber closed the door softly, leaning back against it for a moment, smiling. "I think I'll marry him, Nan," she said at last.
"Lord, mam, you should! A finer, kinder gentleman never lived—it makes my heart ache to see how he loves you. You'd be happy, mam, I know you would."
"Yes," she agreed. "I suppose I would be happy. But—"
"But what?"
"But that's all I'd be."
Nan stared at her, shocked and uncomprehending. "Good God, mam! What else d'ye want?"
It was not long before the singing-master arrived, and after him came the dancing-master to put her through the steps of the minuet—a new French dance which everyone was busily learning. Meanwhile Jeremiah trudged again and again through the parlour carrying buckets of hot water to pour into the wooden tub in the bedroom for her bath.
Nan washed her hair and rubbed it almost dry, piling it on top of her head where she secured it with half-a-dozen bodkins. It was now close to ten and at last the sun had come out, for the first time in many days, so that where she sat in her tub the warmth fell across her bare shoulders and filled her with pleasure. She felt, as she usually did, that it was a wonderful thing to be alive, and was urging herself to leave the soapy luxury of her bath when there was a knock at the door.
"I'm not home," called Amber after Nan. She had no intention of having her plans for this day disturbed, for anyone at all.
Nan returned a moment later. "It's my lord Almsbury, mam."
"Oh. Well, bring 'im in then." Almsbury had not stayed long in town the last autumn but had recently come again for the spring session of Parliament and he visited her frequently— though he had given her no more money. But Amber did not care, for she was very fond of him. "Is he alone?"
"No, there's another gentleman with him." Nan rolled her eyes, but Nan was easily impressed by men.
"Have 'em wait in the parlour—I'll be out in a trice."
She stood and began to dry herself with a towel. From the other room came the low sound of the men's voices; occasionally Nan giggled or burst into a peal of delightful laughter. Amber slipped into a green satin dressing-gown, took the bodkins out of her still slightly damp hair and ran a comb through it, stuck her feet into a pair of golden mules and started out. But she turned back again. After all—he might have someone of some consequence with him. She patted a little powder over her face, touched a perfume stopper to her wrists and throat, and smoothed some carmine into her lips. Then, pulling the neck-line apart to show her breasts, she went to the door and opened it.
Almsbury stood before the fireplace and leaning against the mantel, smiling down at Nan, was Bruce Carlton.
Chapter Twenty
He raised his head quickly as she came in and their eyes met. Amber stood perfectly still, one arm braced against the door-jamb, staring at him. She felt her head begin to whirl and her heart to pound and she was suddenly paralyzed, unable to move or speak. He bowed to her then but Amber merely stood and trembled, cursing herself for a fool, but utterly helpless. Almsbury came to her rescue. He crossed the room, kissed her casually, and slipped one arm about her waist. "What d'you think, sweetheart! The scoundrel put into town yesterday!"
"Did you?" said Amber weakly.
Bruce smiled, his eyes going swiftly down over her body. "The sailor's home from the sea."
"To stay?"
"No—at least not for long. Amber, may I go with you today?"
She glanced at Almsbury in surprise, for she had forgotten that she had told him her plans for the baby's birthday. "Yes, of course. Will you wait while I dress?"
With Nan she went back into the bedroom and when the door was shut she sank against it, her eyes closed, as exhausted as though she had just finished some tremendous physical labour. Nan looked at her in alarm.
"Lord, mam! What is it? You don't look well. Is he your husband?"
"No." She gave a shake of her head, and started for the dressing-table, but her legs felt as though every bone and m
uscle had dissolved. "Will you get out that new gown Madame Drelincourt just finished?"
"But it's raining again, mam. You might spoil it."
"Never mind," snapped Amber. "Just do as you're told!" But she was instantly apologetic. "Oh, Nan, I'm sorry. I don't know what's the matter with me."
"Neither do I, mam. I suppose you'll not be wanting my company today?"
"No. Not today. I think you'd better stay here and polish the silver-—I was noticing last night it's somewhat tarnished."
But as she painted her face and Nan dressed her hair she began to grow calmer, the blood seemed to flow in her veins again, and a passionate happiness replaced the first stunning sense of shock. She had thought him more handsome than ever, and the sight of him had filled her with the same intense irrational excitement she had felt the first time she had ever seen him. The past two years and a half had dissolved and vanished. Everything else in her life seemed suddenly unimportant, and dull.
Her new gown was made of chartreuse-coloured Velvet and her shoes and stockings matched it exactly; her hooded cloak was topaz velvet, almost the same honey-rich colour as her eyes and hair, and she wore Rex Morgan's topaz heart around her neck. She picked up her great mink muff and started for the door, but Nan stopped her: "When will you be home, mam?"
Amber tried to answer casually, from over her shoulder. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe I'll be a little late."
She saw disapproval on Nan's face and knew that she was jealous for Rex, thinking that she ought not to go out there with another man, particularly a man who affected her as this one did.
"What about Captain Morgan?"
"The devil with Captain Morgan!" muttered Amber, and went back in to join Almsbury and Bruce.
When they were all in the coach, several gaily wrapped packages piled beside Amber, Almsbury gave a sudden snap of his fingers. "By God, I'm engaged to play at tennis with Sedley! Damned lucky thing I remembered!" With that he climbed out again, grinning back at them from the doorway. Bruce laughed and slapped him on the shoulder, Amber blew him a kiss, and the coach started off.
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