“Oh, gad, and I too! I only spoke of the slut to give Sir Humphrey the opportunity of railing at her. I vow, there’s no one has the art of wiping out a reputation almost in one breath as it were, like Sir Humphrey.”
Jack Conway had begun to comb his hair with a great carved ivory comb and now Tom Trivet took a flageolet from his pocket and started to play a tune on it. Obviously, he had played in company more than he had practiced. Sir Humphrey took advantage of the noise to whisper in her ear.
“Dear madame, I’m most confoundedly your slave. What d’you think I’ve done with the ribbon you gave me from your smock?”
“I don’t know. What did you do? Swallow it?”
“No, madame. Though if you’ll give me another to take its place I will. I’ve got it tied in a most pretty bow—I’d be most glad to show you. The effect is excellent, let me perish—”
Amber murmured “Hm—” in an absent-minded tone.
For advancing through the crowd with people bowing to him on every side sauntered the gorgeous figure of his Grace, Duke of Buckingham, an equipage of several pages following close in his wake. Everyone turned and stared as he passed, whispers ran along behind the raised fans of elegant ladies, ambitious mothers, eager young girls—all of them hoping for an extra moment’s notice from the great Duke.
Oh, damn! thought Amber frantically. Why didn’t I wear my new gold-and-black gown! He’ll
The Duke was advancing steadily. The green plumes on his hat swayed with every nod of his head, the sun glittered on the diamond-buttons of his suit, his handsome, arrogant face and splendid physique gave every other man a look of drab insignificance. Amber had seen Buckingham in the pit and in the tiring-room, she had been presented to him casually once, and she had heard endless gossip about his amorous and political exploits—but he had never paid her any particular attention. Now, however, as he came closer she saw his eyes run over her swiftly and go on and then her heart gave a plunge as they returned again—and this time lingered. He was no more than four yards from her.
“Madame St. Clare?”
The Duke had stopped and was making her a flourishing bow while Amber quickly recovered herself and swept out her skirts in a deep curtsy. She was conscious that other men and women were watching them, turning their heads as they passed, and that her three gallants were stammering foolishly and making desperate efforts at nonchalance. The Duke’s mouth was smiling beneath his blonde mustache, and his eyes travelled down her body and back up again, as though measuring her by his own private yardstick.
“Your servant, madame.”
“Your servant, sir,” mumbled Amber, almost suffocated with excitement. She stabbed about wildly for something to say, something to arrest his attention—witty and amusing and different from what any other woman would have said, but she did not find it.
His Grace, however, was at no loss for words. “If I mistake not, you’re the lady over whom Lord Carlton fought some officer, a month or so since?”
“Yes, your Grace. I am.”
“I’ve always admired Lord Carlton’s taste, madame, and I must say that you’re so fine a person I can see no reason to differ from his judgement now.”
“Thank you, your Grace.”
“Oh, gad, your Grace!” interrupted Sir Humphrey, suddenly bold and swaggering. “Every man in town is adying to be the lady’s servant. I vow and swear, her health is drunk as often as the King’s—”
Buckingham gave him a brief glance, as though he had noticed him for the first time, and Sir Humphrey wilted instantly. Neither of the two others ventured to speak.
“My coach is at the north gate, madame. I stopped to take a turn in the Park as I was going to supper—It would please me mightily if you would be my guest.”
“Oh, I’d like to, your Grace! But I—” She paused, her eyes indicating that she was obligated to the three fops who were now bridling and grinning in anticipation of being invited to sup with the Duke of Buckingham.
The Duke bowed to them, a bow which was at once polite and condescending, which showed his own breeding even while it contrived to belittle theirs. “Sure, now, gentlemen—you’ve enjoyed the lady’s company all afternoon. I know you’re all too much men of wit and understanding to wish to deprive others of that privilege. With your permission, gentlemen—”
He offered his arm to Amber, who could not conceal her delight and pride, and making a quick bobbing curtsy to the three beaus she sailed off. She had never been so stared at or felt so full of importance in her life as she did now, for wherever he went the Duke attracted as much attention as the King himself and more than his Highness ever had. On the way to the north gate they passed the Mall where Charles was playing before a gallery crowded with ladies and a packed row of courtiers and beggars and loitering tradesmen. The King—who had just struck the little wooden ball into a hoop suspended from a pole at the opposite end of the Mall—saw them going by and waved. Buckingham bowed.
