BECAUSE OF REX MORGAN’S place at Court, Amber was able to watch the King and Queen’s state entry into London from the roof of one of the Palace buildings along the Thames.
For as far as it was possible to see in both directions the shores were packed; on the water the barges lay so thick a man could have walked from Westminster Hall to Charing Cross Stairs on them. Banners whipped out in the brisk breeze, and garlands of flowers trailed in the water. Music played, and as the first of the great gilded state-barges appeared cannon went off, roaring along the river-front, while shouts echoed back from shore to shore and every bell-tower in the city began to rock clamorously.
Amber, her hair blowing about her face, was standing over in one corner, very close to the edge and trying hard to see everything. With her were three young men who had just come from Hampton Court and who had been telling her the story of how the Queen had fainted when Castlemaine was presented to her, and how angry the King had been, thinking she had done it on purpose to embarrass him.
“And since then,” one of them was saying, “the Lady’s gone to all the balls and entertainments and they say his Majesty is sleeping with her again.”
“Can you blame him?” demanded another. “She’s a mighty delicate creature—but as for that olivader skinned—”
“Well, damn me!” interrupted the third. “If there isn’t the Earl himself!”
Elbow-nudges and glances passed along the roof, but Roger Palmer ignored them all; and presently they turned their attention back to the pageant, for the great City barges were now moving by just below. A few minutes later, however, Barbara herself came up the stairway. She was followed by her handsome waiting-woman, Mrs. Wilson, and a nurse carrying her little son. She made a perfunctory curtsy to her husband, who bowed coldly, and immediately she was surrounded by the three young gallants who had left Amber with never a word of apology.
Angry and resentful, hot at the mere sight of this woman she despised, Amber gave her head a toss and turned away. At least
Not very much later she was surprised by the sound of a strangely familiar masculine voice, a hand on her shoulder, and she looked swiftly about to see the Earl of Almsbury grinning down at her. “Well, I’ll be damned!” he was saying. “If it isn’t Mrs. St. Clare!” He bent then and kissed her, and she was so charmed by the warmth of his smile, the admiration she saw in his eyes, that she forgave him on the instant for having neglected her when she was in Newgate.
“Why, Almsbury!”
The questions rose immediately to her tongue: Where’s Bruce? Have you seen him? Is he here? But her pride bit them down.
He stepped back now and his eyes went over her from head to toe. “You’re looking mighty prosperous, sweetheart! Matters have gone swimmingly with you, I doubt not—”
Amber forgot Luke Channell and Newgate and Whitefriars. She gave him a little smile with the corners of her mouth and answered airily. “Oh, well enough. I’m an actress now—in the Theatre Royal.”
“No! I’d heard they have females on the stage now—but you’re the first I’ve seen. I’ve been in the country for two years past.”
“Oh. Then maybe you never got my letter?”
“No—did you write me?”
She made a light gesture of dismissal. “Oh, it was a great while since. In December, a year and a half gone.”
“I left town just after—at the end of August in ’60. I tried to find you, but the host at the Royal Saracen said you’d packed and gone to parts unknown, and the next day I left myself for Herefordshire—his Majesty granted me my lands again.”
At that moment the noise about them swelled deafeningly, for the Royal barge had reached the pier and the King and Queen were getting out, while the Queen Mother came forward to meet them.
“Good Lord!” shouted Amber. “What the devil is her Majesty wearing?” From the distance the Queen’s propped-out skirts made her look almost as wide as she was tall, and as she moved they rocked and swayed precariously.
“It’s a farthingale!” bellowed Almsbury. “They wear ’em in Portugal!”
When at last the crowds began to break up Almsbury took her arm, asking if he might carry her to her lodgings. They turned, to find Barbara with a man’s wide-brimmed hat on her head, standing only a few feet away, and she gave Almsbury a wave and a smile, though her eyes slid with unmistakable hostility over Amber. Amber lifted her chin, lowered her lashes, and sailed by without a glance.
Her coach was waiting in King Street with a great many others, just outside the Palace Gate, and at sight of it Almsbury gave a low whistle. “Well! I didn’t know acting was such a well-paid profession!”
Amber took the cloak which Jeremiah handed her and tossed it over her shoulders, for evening had set in and it was growing cool. Picking up her skirts she gave him a sly smile over her shoulder.
