Winsor, Kathleen (155 page)

"Your
Grace is abroad early."

Unexpectedly
she was ready with a facile lie. "Lady Almsbury is ill—she sent for me.
And isn't this early for you, too, my lord?" she inquired tartly.

"It
is, madame. I go on a mission of the gravest importance —I've just got word the
King's sister died yesterday morning."

For
a moment Amber was shocked into forgetfulness of her own affairs.
"Minette?" she repeated. "Minette—dead?"

"She
is, madame." He bowed his head.

"Oh,
I'm sorry." She had an instant of passionate pity for Charles.

Then
the Baron raised his head again and looked at her. All at once she saw some
strange gleam of amusement in his eyes. She glanced swiftly at Buckingham—he
was smiling. Both of them seemed to be laughing at her. What was it? What did
they know? What had happened? It must be something that concerned her,
something unpleasant, to please them so much.

And
then, with sudden unexpected relief she realized that it no longer mattered. In
another hour she would be gone from England—gone from Whitehall and its plots
and schemes forever. She would never come back again, never. She would not have
believed it possible, even yesterday, that she could be so glad to leave
England.

I'm
so sick of all of you, she thought. Then Arlington was speaking again.

"Don't
let me detain you, madame. Your business, also, is important. You mustn't be
late."

Amber
curtsied, the Baron bowed, and they passed.

Buckingham
looked around over his shoulder, Arlington did not look back, but they
exchanged smiles. "Good riddance," muttered the Duke. Then suddenly
he laughed. "Gad, but I wish I could see her face when she arrives in
Virginia and finds Lady Carlton in good health! I congratulate you, sir. Your
plot worked better than I hoped. We've put that troublesome jade out of our
way."

"Her
Grace may be gone," said Arlington. "But there's
never an end to
trouble here at Whitehall." The tone of his voice was significant and
Buckingham looked at him with quick suspicion. Arlington's face turned blank.
"Come, your Grace—there are matters of real importance to attend to this
morning."

Amber
had picked up her skirts and started to run. Outdoors it was growing light and
the sun streaked over the tops of the brick buildings. Her coach stood waiting.
As he saw her coming the footman flung open the door and reared back in rigid
attention; she laughed and gave a snip of her fingers at his braid-covered
chest as she climbed in. Imperturbably she slammed the door, motioned to the
driver and the coach rolled forward. Still laughing, she leaned out, and waved
at the closed empty windows.