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 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.”
