Winsor, Kathleen (28 page)

But
she was uneasy and angry herself to be put under the girl's scrutiny. For
though she had used Black Jack's comb and scrubbed her face she was still
miserably dirty, and now she could feel a louse begin to bite. But she would
have died rather than reach down to scratch. As it was, Bess lifted her brows
and smiled faintly to indicate that she considered her no very formidable
rival.

Pox
on her! thought Amber furiously. Just wait till I've had a bath, Mrs.! We'll
see whose nose is out of joint then, I'll warrant you! Her speech was taking on
the colour of her surroundings, reflecting Lord Carlton and Almsbury, Luke
Channell and his aunt, Moll Turner and Newgate, and now, Black Jack and
Alsatia.

But
if Black Jack was conscious of the resentment crackling between the two women
he gave no indication of it. "I'm thirsty," he said. "Where's
Pall?"

Bess
shouted the name and within a few moments a girl pushed open the door which led
into another room and stood sleepily on the threshold. Evidently the
kitchen-slavey, she was barefooted and ill-kempt, and her hair hung in greasy
yellow streaks about her neck. But at the sight of Black Jack she blushed and
smiled self-consciously and dropped him a curtsy.

"Glad
t'see ye back, sir."

"Thanks,
Pall. I'm glad to be back. Can we have something to drink? I'll have
cherry-brandy. What do you want, sweetheart?" He turned to Amber.

Bess
scowled swiftly at that and the next instant she was berating Pall, pouring her
jealous spleen over her. "What've you been doing, you lazy slut! Why
aren't those dishes cleaned?" She pointed to a table littered with dishes
and bones and nutshells, glasses and wine-bottles. "By Jesus, you'll mend
your ways or I'll give you a flogging— D'ye hear me?"

Pall
winced, evidently believing her, but Black Jack interrupted the tirade. "Leave
the girl alone, Bess. Maybe she's been busy in the kitchen."

"Busy
sleeping, I'll warrant you!"

"Bring
a bottle of Rhenish for Mrs. Channell, and Bess will have—"

"Brandy!"
snapped Bess, and gave Amber a quick furious glare.

Amber
turned her back and went to sit down. She felt tired and listless and suffered
acutely from knowing that she had never been less attractive. She wished only
that she might get away from them all and go somewhere to sleep, and then in
the morning have a fine warm bath with soap-suds enough to float on. Oh, to be
really clean again!

Black
Jack and Bess began to talk then, but it was in the underworld cant of which
Amber had learnt only a few words. She heard their voices but did not try to
understand what they were saying. Instead, she looked idly about her at the
furnishings of the room. It was crowded with a vast number of chairs and tables
and stools. Half-a-dozen cupboards and hutches ranged the walls. There were
innumerable portraits in heavy gold frames and several more stood stacked in a
pile against the fireplace. Some of the pieces were obviously expensive, but
others were so old or so badly scarred and broken as to be of no possible value
and very little use.

Pall
brought the glasses and bottles and they drank a toast to the night's success.
Amber then told Black Jack that she was tired and he asked Pall to light her
upstairs to the west-center bedroom, kissing her casually when she left. Even
that made Bess fume and draw down her brows. But Amber hoped the girl might have
her way that night, for she did not care to be troubled with him.

Amber
sat in a great wooden tub full of warm water and soap, sought out the lice and
cracked them while they were wet and immobilized. Her hair, just washed had
been wrung out and skewered onto the top of her head. On a gold and white
brocade chair beside her Black Jack sat, idly flipping a knife into the floor
between his feet. Amber gave a wave of one arm that surveyed the room.

"Why
d'you have so much of everything?"

For
the bedroom was as overfurnished as the parlour downstairs, and in much the
same helter-skelter fashion. The bed was hung luxuriously with violet velvet
and the counterpane was yellow satin; several of the chairs were covered with
violet velvet and another with crimson, fringed with gold tassels. There were
at least two dozen portraits on the walls, a great many mirrors, three
wardrobes, and two screens.

"Mother
Red-Cap's a pawn-broker. The house is furnished with what she takes in—the
portrait of grand-dad always seems to go first." He grinned and gave a
lift of one eyebrow to indicate the numerous old gentlemen in stiff black
doublets and white ruffs who looked down from the walls.

Amber
laughed. Her spirits had revived and she was once more full of energy and
optimism and self-confidence. She
knew that she should not be in a tubful
of hot water, for Sarah had always said that sitting in a warm bath was sure to
bring on a baby before its time, but she was enjoying herself so that she had
no intention of moving for at least another half hour.

"Who
lives here? Anyone besides Mother Red-Cap and Bess and Pall?" The corridor
down which Pall had led her had been a long one and the house seemed to be
quite large.

"Mother
Red-Cap lets out the four extra bedrooms. A man who coins false money has the
third floor and there's a fencing-school on the fourth."

This
was not the first Amber had heard of Mother Red-Cap. Mother Red-Cap had sent
the money to bribe the Jailor. Mother Red-Cap had just been elected Mayor of
Sanctuary and the night before had been hearing a case at the George and
Dragon. Mother Red-Cap wanted to see her as soon as she was dressed.

At
last Amber stood up, dried herself, and slipped into one of Black Jack's East
Indian dressing-robes; both of them laughed to see how it trailed on the floor
and the sleeves hung below her knees. Then, giving her a wink, Jack went to a
chest and lifted out a large box which he put into her hands. She took it and
glanced at him questioningly. He was standing there with his hands thrust into
his pockets, rocking back on his heels and grinning broadly, waiting for her to
open it.

Excited
at the prospect of a present, Amber laid the box on a chest, untied the strings
and tossed the crackling papers aside. With a cry of delight she took out a
green taffeta gown sewn with appliqued scrolls of black velvet. Underneath lay
a black velvet cloak, a smock and two petticoats, green silk stockings and
green shoes.

"Oh,
Black Jack! It's beautiful!" She reached up to kiss him and he bent rather
awkwardly, like a bashful boy, for he was always afraid of hurting her.
"But how'd you ever get it so quick?" Madame Darnier had never
completed a gown in less than a week.

"I
was abroad early this morning. There's a second-hand dealer in Houndstitch
where the quality sell their clothes."

"Oh,
Black Jack—and just the colour I love!" She slipped off the robe and began
to dress hastily, chattering all the while. "It looks like the leaves on
the apple-tree that used to grow outside my bedroom window. How'd you know
green's my favourite colour?"

But
a moment later her face fell in disappointment. The gown would not fasten over
her stomach and the sight of herself in a mirror—something she had not seen for
over a month—made her want to cry. It seemed to her that she had been pregnant
forever.

"Oh!"
she cried in exasperation, and stamped her foot. "How ugly I look! I
hate
having a baby!"

But
Black Jack assured her soothingly that she was the prettiest thing he had ever
seen, and they went downstairs to
meet Mother Red-Cap. They found her
seated at one of the tables with her back to them and a candle at her elbow,
writing in an enormous ledger which lay spread open before her. As Black Jack
spoke to her she turned and then immediately got to her feet and came forward. She
gave Amber a friendly kiss on the cheek and smiled her approval at Black Jack,
who stood there proudly beaming over both of them.

"A
gentry-more she is, Jack." She glanced over her figure. "When do you
reckon?"

"About
two months, I think."

Amber
was looking at her wide-eyed, amazed to find that she bore no resemblance at
all to the dissolute old harridan she had been expecting. She did not, in fact,
look any more vicious than Aunt Sarah. Mother Red-Cap was fifty-five years old
but her skin was clear and smooth and her eyes snapped brightly. Smaller than
Amber, her body was trim and compact, and all her movements suggested a fund of
unexpressed energy. The clothes she wore were plain neat ones made of cotton
and wool with starched collar and cuffs and apron, and there was not a jewel in
sight. A bright red cap covered every wisp of hair and Black Jack had told
Amber that in almost ten years he had never seen her without it.

"I'll
have a midwife for you in good time, then," she said, "and we'll find
a woman to take the baby."

"Take
the baby where!" cried Amber, suddenly on the defensive.

"Don't
be alarmed, my dear," said Mother Red-Cap reasonably, and the accent with
which she spoke reminded Amber of Lord Carlton and his friends. "Who'd
want a baby to live in the Friars? Most of those who do die before their first
year is out. We can get a cleanly responsible cottager's wife who will care for
the child and let you visit him whenever you like. Oh, it's a very satisfactory
arrangement—many women do it," she assured her, as Amber still did not
look convinced. "Now," she turned briskly and went back to her
ledger. "Tell me your full name."

Black
Jack spoke up quickly. "Mrs. Channell is all she wants to give. I'll pay
the garnish-fee for her."

Amber
had not told even Black Jack her real name and he did not seem to care for he
said that his own was assumed and that any person of sense kept his name secret
in Alsatia.

"Very
well. No one here is interested in prying into the past. Black Jack tells me
you're in debt for four hundred pound and want to pay it so that you can leave
the Friars. I don't blame you—I think you're too pretty to stay here long, and
I assure you I'll put the means of earning that sum in your way, just as soon
as you're able to go abroad." Amber started to ask her how, but Mother
Red-Cap went crisply on. "Meanwhile, we'll have to do something to get rid
of that accent. A girl from the country is generally assumed to be a fool here
in London, and that's a handicap to the best laid plans. I think that Michael
Godfrey
might make a good tutor for her, don't you, Black Jack? And now, my dear, make
yourself comfortable with us and ask for whatever you want or need. I'll leave
you now; this is the first of the month and I must call upon my tenants."

She
closed the ledger, put it into a drawer of the table, and locked it with a key
taken from her apron-pocket. Then tossing a cloak over her arm, she smiled at
them both and went to the door. Once again she turned to give Amber a sweeping
glance, shook her head, slightly, and remarked, "A pity you're so far gone
with child. Three months ago you'd have brought a hundred pound as a
maidenhead."

She
went out and though Black Jack burst into hearty laughter Amber turned to him
with an angry light in her eyes. "What the devil does that old woman
intend? If she thinks I'm going to earn my way out of here by—"

"Don't
get excited. She doesn't—I'll see to that. But once a bawd, always a bawd. And
Mother Red-Cap's such a matchmaker I'll swear she could have married the Pope to
Queen Elizabeth."

What
Mother Red-Cap's real name was, Amber never learned, but very obviously Black
Jack not only liked her but had a strong masculine admiration for her success,
her uncompromising determination, her ability to survive and prosper no matter
what happened to others. But Amber could not understand why the woman lived so
frugally when she did not need to, or why she had chosen a life of chastity
after what must have been an exciting youth. For those reasons she felt a frank
but unexpressed contempt for her and decided that she could not be so very
clever after all.

But
nevertheless she exerted herself to make Mother Red-Cap like her and believed
that she was succeeding very well. For Black Jack had flatly refused, the first
time she broached the subject, to give her money enough to pay her debt—and it
had led to a quarrel between them.