“Shut up, you lousy little coward! I’m not going to hurt you!” He was straining every nerve and muscle, exhausted by jealousy and sleeplessness, to hold his fury in leash. Amber’s eyes looked up at him, big and glittering with fear, but the grasp he had on her was so tight she could not have moved if she had tried. “I want you to live—I want you to live long enough to know how I’ve felt—I want you to live and wish you were dead because he is—” Suddenly he let her go.

Relieved, Amber shook herself a little. She had scarcely realized what he was saying but now, as he started out, she looked up suddenly. “Where are you going?” All at once she understood what he had meant. “Rex! You’re not going to fight him!”

“I’m going to fight him, and kill him.”

Confident that her own life was no longer in danger, Amber gave him a scowl of contemptuous disgust. “You’re crazy, Rex Morgan, if you do! He’s a better swordsman than you are—”

He slammed his hat onto his head, picked up his cloak and went swiftly out of the room. At the door he knocked into Nan and Tansy and Jeremiah just coming in with their arms full of boxes, but he brushed on by without a word of apology.

Nan caught her balance and her blue eyes widened as she turned to watch him running down the stairs. “Where’s he going in such a rage, mam?” She looked back anxiously at Amber. “He’s not going to fight Lord Carlton!”

“He’s a fool if he does!” muttered Amber, and turned away.

But Nan whirled about, and started down the stairs after him, crying, “Captain Morgan! Captain Morgan! Come back here!”

<p>CHAPTER TWENTY–ONE</p>

AN HOUR LATER Bruce came to her rooms.

He walked in swiftly when Nan opened the door, and there was a dark scowl on his face that did not clear when Amber came running out of the bedroom in her dressing-gown. Her eager expectant smile disappeared as she saw his angry expression.

“Why, Bruce! What is it? What’s happened?”

He crossed to her and gave her a folded sheet of paper on which the seal had been broken. “Look at this! It was just brought to me at Almsbury House!”

She took it and began to read:

“Sir: You have done me an injury which one gentleman may not accept from another. I will see you tomorrow morning at five in Marrowbone Fields, where Tyburn Brook meets the road. Have your sword in your hand. Or I shall be at your service at the earliest time you shall appoint.

“Your servant, sir,

“CAPTAIN REX MORGAN.”

The handwriting was scratchy and the pen had splattered several times, streaking the page with black ink.

In his rage Rex had ignored half the formal appointments for a duel, for it was customary to let the challenged name the time and the place and the weapon. Nor had he said anything of seconds, either one or two of which were usually selected by each man, according to the French style of fighting imported into England and already responsible for many unnecessary deaths.

Amber looked up at him, giving back the note. “Well?”

“Well! Is that all you have to say! for the love of God, Amber, what’s the matter with you! You know that he’ll lose his rank and have to go into exile—He might never come back again! If you don’t care what happens to him you should at least have the sense to consider your own future! Get hold of him tonight and tell him there’s no reason for this ridiculous meeting!”

Amber was astonished, and then offended, for he obviously did not consider her sufficient cause for a duel. Her pride hurt, she wanted to hurt him, and now a mocking smile curled the corners of her mouth.

“You surprise me, Lord Carlton,” she said softly.

Bruce looked at her, his eyes narrowed. “What do you mean by that?”

She gave a little shrug. “I wouldn’t expect to find you troubled about a meeting with swords. I should think a privateer could defend himself as well as any other man.”

Nan gasped, one hand going to her mouth as though to stop the words her mistress had just spoken. But Bruce’s face had a sort of angry contempt on it.

“I’m not afraid to meet him and you damned well know it! But I don’t care to fight a man without a better reason than this!”

“If you mean me, Lord Carlton, Rex thinks I’m reason enough!”

“Tell him you’ve already had a son by me and see what he thinks about it then!”

“He knows it—and he still wants to fight you! Anyway, I don’t know where he’s gone! If you don’t want to fight, you’ll have to make your own excuses!”

She turned away from him, but as she did so she caught a glimpse of his face staring at her with an expression that was almost frightening, and without another word he wheeled and left the room, his long riding-cape swirling about him.

“Oh, mam!” cried Nan despairingly. “Now what ’ve you done! ”

“I don’t care! He needn’t expect me to beg him off!”

“But it wasn’t because he’s afraid, mam! You know that!”

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