But at last they arrived and went around to the kitchen-door of Mrs. Chiverton’s pretty little thatched cottage, where they found her just cleaning the remains of the noon-day meal. Amber had given her frequent and generous gifts of money, for she wanted her son to live in a comfortable home, and the cottage now had an air of pleasant warmth and friendliness that it had not had at first.
The baby lay in his cradle, which he had now almost outgrown, flat on his back and sleeping soundly. Amber put up a cautioning finger as they came in and, walking softly, went over to look at him. His cheeks were flushed and there was a sheen of moisture on his eyelids, his breathing came quietly and regularly. For a long moment Bruce and Amber stood staring down at him, and then their eyes turned and met in a look of mutual pride and congratulation. Lord Carlton’s slender, hard aristocratic hands reached down and closed under his son’s armpits and he lifted him to his chest.
He woke up then, yawning, looked in some surprise at the man who held him, and then catching sight of Amber broke into a sudden smile and reached out for her.
“Mother!”
After a while, when they had eaten a bowl of hot pottage which Mrs. Chiverton insisted they have, they began to unwrap the baby’s presents. There were numerous toys, including drums and soldiers and a Jack-in-the-Pulpit—a Puritan preacher which popped out of a box and swayed comically from one side to the other. And there was a doll with real blonde hair and an extensive wardrobe which Amber had bought for Mrs. Chiverton’s four-year-old daughter. They stayed until mid-afternoon, but when finally they got ready to leave, the baby cried and wanted to go with them. While Amber tried to quiet him Bruce gave Mrs. Chiverton fifty pounds, telling her that he was grateful for the good care his son had received.
It was raining again as they started back, Amber chattering with the greatest enthusiasm and excitement about the baby. For she had been pleased and a little surprised to find that Bruce—who she had half expected would be an indifferent father—seemed to love the child as much as she did. But even while she talked she was conscious again of the rising surge of passion in both of them, temporarily calmed and forced back while they had been at the cottage. Now it was once more wild and violent, immediately demanding, determined to sweep away two years and a half in a few moments of savage union.
Stopping in the midst of a sentence she turned and looked up at him. Bruce gave a swift glance out the window, and as one arm went about her he leant forward to rap on the side of the coach. “We’re coming to Hoxton,” he said quickly to Amber. “I know a good inn there. Hey!” he raised his voice to a shout. “Stop up here at the Star and Garter!”
When Amber got home, after nine o’clock that night, she found Nan sitting beside the fireplace mending one of Rex’s shirts while he stood next to her, his hands jammed into his pockets and a scowl on his face. Amber paused, looking at him with a sense of surprise, for he seemed almost unreal to her—and then he had crossed the room and had her hands in his.
“My God, darling! What happened! I was just going out to try to find you!”
She forced a smile. “Nothing happened, Rex. The baby didn’t want me to go and I kept staying on—and then the coach got stuck and once it almost turned over.” She reached up to caress his cheek, a little sorry to have cheated him as she had, for he looked at her with such adoration and not the faintest hint of doubt or suspicion. “You mustn’t worry about me all the time, Rex.”
“I can’t help it, darling. I love you, you know.”
Amber turned away to escape the expression in his eyes and as she did so she saw Nan’s look of disapproval and resentment.
Early the next morning, when they were alone, Amber asked her if she had told Rex about the visit of Almsbury and Lord Carlton. Nan was making the bed, smoothing out the sheets with a bed-staff, and she answered without looking at Amber.
“No, mam, I did not,” she said crisply. “Lord, I’m sure I don’t know why you should think I’d meddle in your business. I never have before. What’s more, I wouldn’t tell Captain Morgan you were playing him false for a thousand pound. It would break his heart!” She turned around all at once and the two women stood staring at each other; there was a gleam of moisture in Nan’s eyes.
“You weren’t so finical when it was the King I was playing him false with!”
“That was different, mam. That was serving the Crown. But this—this is wicked. Captain Morgan loves you beyond his own life—It’s—it’s not kind!”
