“It isn’t money I mean. You don’t know anything about the Court, Amber. You’ve only seen it from the outside. You’ve seen the handsome clothes and the jewels and the fine manners. That isn’t Whitehall. Whitehall’s like a rotten egg. It looks good enough until you break it open—and then it stinks to the heavens—”
She did not believe that and was about to tell him so, when there was a sudden splash and a loud howl from the baby as he tumbled into the pond. Bruce was on his feet at a bound and running, with Amber close behind, to pick his son out of the water. And when the little boy found himself unhurt and safe in his father’s arms all three burst into laughter. Bruce set him up on one shoulder and they started for the inn to get him out of his wet clothes.
It was late the next night when she left Bruce at Almsbury House. A nurse he had already hired came out to get the baby and disappeared with him. But for a moment Bruce stood in the rain beside the opened door of the coach, while Amber struggled with her tears. This time she was determined that he should go away with a pleasant memory of her, but her throat ached painfully and she thought that she would never be able to bear the parting. For hours she had kept herself talking and thinking of other things, but now she could pretend no longer. This was goodbye.
“I’ll see you when you come back, Bruce—” she whispered, for she could not trust her voice.
He stood looking at her, but for a moment did not answer. Then he said, “I’ve put a thousand pound with Shadrac Newbold in your name—you can have it on twenty days’ notice. If you have any trouble with Morgan because of this, that will help take care of you.” He leaned forward quickly, kissed her, and turned to walk away. She watched him go, fading from sight in the wet darkness, and then suddenly she could control herself no longer and she began to cry.
She was still crying when she reached the Blue Balcony. She felt as though she had been away for a great while, it was almost strange to her, and she climbed the stairs slowly. The door, as she tried it, was already unlocked and she went in. Rex was there.
His eyes were bloodshot and he looked as though he had not shaved for days, nor perhaps slept either, for his face was haggard and his clothes rumpled. Surprised to find him there and in that condition she stood perfectly still for a moment, sniffling unconsciously though the tears had stopped at sight of him, and one hand went up to wipe her streaked face.
“Well,” he said quietly at last. “So your Aunt Sarah died. Nothing else, I suppose, could make you look like that.”
Amber was wary, for she could not be sure if that was sarcasm in his voice. But she did not think—if he knew where she had been—that he would be so still and calm. “Yes,” she said. “Poor Aunt Sarah. It was a mighty bad shock to me—she was the only mother I ever—”
“Don’t trouble yourself to lie to me. I know where you’ve been and who you’ve been with.” He spoke between his teeth, biting off each word with a savage snap, and though his voice did not rise she saw all at once that he was insanely, murderously angry. She opened her mouth to make some denial but he cut her off. “What kind of a fool do you take me for? Don’t you suppose it ever occurred to me to wonder why that brat of yours had the same first name he has? But you’d made me so many promises—Oh, you’d never be unfaithful to the man who loved you, not you! I was determined to believe in you and trust you no matter what happened. And then both of you went out of town at the same time—You ungrateful jilting little slut—I’ve been here four days and nights, waiting for you to come back—Do you have any idea what I’ve been through since you went? Of course you don’t! You’ve never thought about anyone but yourself in all your life—You’ve never cared who you hurt if you got what you wanted—You selfish, mercenary, whoring little bitch, I should kill you—I’d
His voice went on in a low monotonous tone that did not sound like him and his face was twisted with rage and sickness and jealousy into something she could scarcely recognize. This was a man she had never known existed beneath the quiet gentle Rex Morgan she had taken so casually for granted; this was some malevolent, savage stranger.
Amber stared at him in terror. She took a step or two backward, intending to turn and run if he made the slightest move. Slowly he started toward her. And like a frightened animal she whirled, but he was quicker; before she knew what was happening he had grabbed her arm and jerked her back again. She screamed, but he clapped one hand over her mouth and gave her head a vicious shake.
