Winsor, Kathleen (141 page)

His
face was eager and joyous at seeing her again, but like a gentleman he paused
just inside the door, swept off his hat, and bowed very formally. Amber ran
forward with a little cry, dropped to her knees and flung her arms about him,
kissing him passionately while her throat ached with tears. Abandoning his own
manners then he returned her kisses but kept his face turned so that his father
could not see the tears in his eyes.

"Oh,
my darling!" cried Amber. "How fine you look! And how tall you've
grown—and strong!"

He
gave a surreptitious little sniffle, dashing the tears off his face with the
back of one hand. "I've missed you, Mother. England's so far away when
you're in America." He grinned at her now, one brown hand on her shoulder.
"You look mighty pretty, ma'm."

She
longed to break into sobs, but managed to smile. "Thank you, darling. I
hope I'll always look pretty to you."

"Why
don't you come back to America with us? We live in a great house now, in
Virginia. There's room enough for all of us and more.
Will
you come,
mother? I'm sure you'd like it better than London—it's mighty nice there, I promise
you."

Amber
gave Bruce a quick glance, then kissed the little boy again. "I'm glad you
want me to live with you, darling, but I don't think I can. You see, this is
where I live."

He
turned now and appealed to his father, with the air of one man stating a
practical business proposition to another. "Then why don't we all live
here, sir?"

Bruce
dropped down so that his weight rested on his heels and his face was almost on
a level with his son's; he put one arm about the boy's waist. "We can't
live here, Bruce, because I can't leave the plantation. America is my home. But
you may stay here, if you prefer."

Quick
disappointment showed on his face. "Oh, but I don't want to leave you,
sir. And I like America." He turned back to Amber. "Will you come
visit us someday?"

"Perhaps,"
said Amber softly, but she did not dare look at Bruce, and then she jumped to
her feet. "Would you like to see your sister—Susanna?"

Together
the three ran downstairs to the nursery where Susanna was being given her
dancing-lesson by an exasperated Frenchman, and just as they arrived she was
stamping her foot and screaming at him in a rage. She did not remember her
brother at first for she had been only two and a half when he went away, but
very soon they were chattering excitedly, exchanging news. Amber dismissed the
servants and the four of them were left alone.

Bruce,
for all that he seemed so grown-up, could not resist the temptation to brag to
his little sister. For he lived in a great new country now, had sailed twice
across the ocean, rode his own horse over the plantation with his father, was
learning to sail a boat and had shot a wild-turkey just before they left.
Susanna was not to be outdone.

"Pish!"
she said scornfully. "What do I care for all that!
I
have two
fathers!"

Bruce
was taken aback for no more than an instant. "That's nothing to me, miss.
I
have two mothers!"

"You
lie, you rogue!" cried Susanna. Her challenge might have led to an open
quarrel, but just at that moment Amber and Bruce interrupted with the
suggestion that they all play a game.

After
that she saw Lord Carlton frequently, and he came even when he did not bring
the little boy. Usually he stayed no more than an hour or two, but he made no
great effort to be secretive and Amber decided that marriage had not changed
him as much as she had feared at first.

At
last she grew bold enough to say to him one day: "What if Corinna finds
out about us?"

"I
hope she won't."

"Gossip
spreads like the plague here at Whitehall."

"Then
I hope she won't believe it."

"Won't
believe it? Lord, how naïve d'you think she is?"

"She's
not accustomed to London morals. She'll likely think it's malicious talk."

"But
what if she doesn't? What if she asks you?"

"I
won't lie to her." He gave her a quick scowl. "Look here, you little
minx, if I find you've been up to any of your tricks I'll—"

"You'll
what?"

Her
eyes sparkled, her mouth smiled. She rolled over on the bed and her arms went
about his, crushing her breasts against his shoulder. Their mouths came swiftly
together. Corinna no longer existed for either of them.

As
the time went by Amber's confidence increased. For though he said that he loved
Corinna she knew that he loved her too. They had shared so much together, there
was so much between them, so many memories—those things remained in his heart
and they would always remain there, she was sure of that. She began to feel
that his wife was merely an inconvenience,
a social handicap, and even Corinna's
great beauty held less terror for her than it had at first.

As
she had expected, their meetings did not long remain secret. Buckingham, of
course, and Arlington too must have known about them from the first—and, though
Charles never mentioned it, undoubtedly he did—but all those gentlemen had
other matters of greater importance to them than a woman's love-affairs. The
ladies of the Court, however, did not.

Lord
and Lady Carlton had been in London less than a month when the Countess of
Southesk and Jane Middleton came one morning to pay Amber a visit—and met Bruce
just leaving. He bowed to them both, but though Mrs. Middleton gave him her
most languishing look and Southesk tried to rally him into conversation, he
made his excuses and left them.

"Oh,
by all means, my lord!" gushed Southesk. "Do go along. Lord, I vow
and swear no man's reputation is safe if he's coming out of her Grace's chamber
before noon!"

"Your
servant, madame," said Bruce, bowing again, and he walked away.

Middleton's
eyes followed him down the corridor, her pink lips pouting. "Lord, but
he's handsome! I vow and swear, the person in the world I most admire!"

"I
told you! I told you!" cried Southesk gleefully. "He's her lover!
Come, let's in—"

They
found Amber taking a bath in a large marble tub set on a rug in the middle of
her bedroom floor. There was asses' milk in the water to cloud it and a
white-fox robe was laid across the lower half of the tub, concealing her body
from the waist down. The room was crowded with tradespeople all talking at
once, and the monkey chattered, the parrot squawked, the dog barked. Just behind
her stood the newest addition to her household, a tall blond eunuch, handsome
and no more than twenty-five. He was one of the many seamen captured each year
by Algerian pirates and castrated to be sold back into Europe where they were
bought as household ornaments by the finest ladies.

"No,"
Amber was saying, "I won't have it! It's hideous! My God, look at that
colour! I could never wear it—"

"But,
madame," protested the mercer, "it's the newest shade —I just got it
from Paris. It's called 'constipation.' I vow and swear, madame, it'll be all
the fashion."

"I
don't care. I'd look like a blow-sabel in it." And then, just as the two
women came up behind her she gave a little cry of surprise. "Lord, ladies!
How you sneak up on one!"

"Do
we so? We came in noisy as anything, your Grace. Your thoughts must have been
elsewhere."

Amber
gave a little smile and snipped at the soap bubbles with her thumb and
forefinger. "Oh, well—perhaps you're right. You can all go now—" she
told the tradesmen. "I don't want anything more today. Herman—" She
glanced over her shoulder at the eunuch. "Fling me a towel."

Mrs.
Middleton's eyes were running appraisingly over Herman's imposing physique and
now she said, as though he were no human being but a mere inanimate object:
"Where
did you get this fine-looking fellow? My eunuch is a mere jack-straw— a
frightful object, let me die."

Amber
took the towel and stood up to begin drying herself, conscious of their close
jealous scrutiny. But let them stare as they could, she thought they would
discover few flaws, for in spite of bearing three children she looked very much
as she had at sixteen—her waist was as slim, her belly as taut and smooth, her
breasts as high and pert. She had given herself the best of care, and yet
perhaps she had been a little lucky too.

"Oh,
I got him from what-d'ye-call—the East Indies merchant. He was mighty dear, but
I think he makes a fine enough show to be worth the price, don't you?"

Lady
Southesk regarded him with contempt. "Gad, I wouldn't have one of 'em about
me! Filthy creatures! Unable to perform a man's most significant
function."

Amber
laughed. "Some of 'em will even do that for you, I'm told. Would you like
to borrow Herman someday and find out if it's true?"

Southesk
looked furiously insulted at that, though certainly her reputation was none too
tidy, but Middleton hastily changed the subject. "Oh, by the way, your
Grace, whom d'you think we encountered just at your door?"

Amber
gave her a quick narrow look, seeing that the cat was out. She was almost pleased,
though she would not have dared spread the news herself. "Lord Carlton, I
suppose. Do be seated, ladies. Pray, no ceremony here."

Amber
derived a great deal of malicious amusement from the etiquette which decreed
that persons of inferior rank might sit in the presence of a duchess only with
her permission, and then upon armless chairs. It pleased her every time a woman
who had once ignored or sneered at her was forced to rise or to move to a less
comfortable seat because she had entered a room.

Flinging
the towel to Herman she slipped into a dressing-gown held by one of the maids,
stuck her toes into a pair of mules and taking the bodkins from her hair gave
it a vigorous shake. The glowing warmth which filled her each time she saw
Bruce still lingered, and she had a wonderful sense of vigorous well-being. It
seemed to her that life had never been more delicious or more satisfying.

"They
say that Lord Carlton has a most wicked reputation," Southesk told her now
and Amber gave her a half-smile, one eyebrow raised. "I'm afraid your
Grace's reputation will suffer if he's seen leaving your apartments very
often."

Before
Amber could reply Middleton was prattling again.

"Lord,
but he's the finest person, let me die! I swear he's the handsomest male I've
ever clapped eyes on! But every time I've seen 'im he's been so furiously
absorbed in his wife! How
the devil did your Grace contrive to make his acquaintance so neatly?"

"Oh,
didn't you know?" cried Southesk. "Why, her Grace has known 'im for
years!" She turned back to Amber and smiled sweetly. "Haven't you,
madame?"

Amber
laughed. "I protest—you ladies are much better informed about all this
than I."

They
stayed a few minutes longer, all three of them gossiping with idle viciousness
of the doings of their friends and acquaintances. But Southesk and Middleton
had found out what they had come for and soon they went off to spread the news
through Whitehall and Covent Garden. Bruce, however, never spoke of it to Amber
and, whenever she saw her, Corinna was as friendly and gracious as she always
had been. It was obvious that she, at least, had no slightest suspicion
regarding the Duchess of Ravenspur and her husband.