Amber and Bruce were immediately separated, for she had her duties as hostess and he was captured by a circle of merchants who wanted to know when the war would begin, how many ships he had taken, and if it was true that there was a plague in Holland which would lay her so low she would be an easy victim. They asked him why the King did not mend his ways, how long the idleness and corruption at Court would continue and, privately, whether it was a safe investment to loan his Majesty a large sum of money. “Our ships,” “our trade,” “our seas,” were the words that sounded over and over. The women gathered in groups to talk of their children, their pregnancies and their servants. Almost everyone would remark, sometime during the course of the evening, that England had been far happier under Old Oliver; they forgot how they had grumbled about that same Old Oliver.
They drifted out of the dining-room and back to the drawing-room to seat themselves about little round tables or on chairs and benches. And Amber, whose eyes followed Bruce wherever he went, even when she seemed most occupied with something else, was furious when Jemima at last succeeded in maneuvering him away from his questioners and into a corner alone with her. They sat down, plates on their laps, and began to talk.
Jemima was chattering at him and smiling, her eyes ashine with happiness and passionate admiration as she plied on him all the pretty tricks of a natural flirt. Bruce sat and watched her and now and then he said something, but though he seemed only lazily amused Amber was in a state of anguished jealousy.
She made several starts to go over and interrupt them, but each time someone stopped her. At last one old dowager with a bosom like a shelf and the face of a petulant spaniel said to her: “Jemima seems mightily smitten with his Lordship. She’s been making sheep’s-eyes at him all evening. Let me tell you, Mrs. Dangerfield, if Jemima was my daughter I’d find a way to get her out of his company—I admire his Lordship’s exploits on the sea as much as anyone, but his reputation with women is none of the best, you can take my word for that.”
Amber was horrified. “Oh, heaven! Thank you for telling me, Mrs. Humpage. I’ll take a course with her this instant.”
And immediately she was off across the room to where Joseph Cuttle stood in a corner talking to Henry and trying to pretend he did not know Jemima was with a man who was not only handsome and titled but a hero into the bargain.
“Why, Joseph!” she cried. “Where have you been all evening? Whatever are you doing over here? I’ll wager you haven’t spoke so much as a word to Jemima!”
Joseph blushed and shuffled one foot awkwardly, while Henry looked into his step-mother’s neckline. “I’m having a fine time Mrs. Dangerfield. Jemima’s busy.”
“Nonsense, Joseph! Why, she’ll never forgive you if you serve her at this rate!” She took his wrist, kindness and encouragement in her eyes. “Come along, Joseph—you can’t help your cause with her by standing over here.”
They began to make their way across the room and Amber kept a firm hold on Joseph’s hand, as though afraid that he would bolt and run. But Amber dragged him up to Bruce and Jemima, ignoring the reproachful accusing stare Jemima gave her, and presented him to Lord Carlton.
“I’m going to let you and Joseph start the dancing, Jemima,” she said sweetly. “You can begin with a coranto.”
Reluctantly Jemima got to her feet, but her face began to sparkle again as she turned to Bruce. “Excuse me, your Lordship?”
Bruce bowed. “Certainly, madame. And I thank you for your company at supper.”
Jemima gave him a long smile, one he was not intended to forget—ignoring the tormented boy by her side—and then with a brief curtsy to Amber she went off toward the ballroom, but she did not take Joseph’s arm or seem aware that he was with her.
Amber waited until they were out of ear-shot and then she turned to Bruce, to find him smiling down at her. He seemed to know exactly what she was thinking. “Well!” she said. “And did you have a pleasant evening!”
“Very pleasant. Thank you for inviting me. And now—” He glanced across the room at a clock. “I must be going.”
“Oh, you must be going!” she repeated sarcastically. “As soon as
“I have business at Whitehall.”
“I can imagine what
“Smile a little, Amber,” he said softly. “Some of your guests are beginning to wonder at your familiarity with me. A woman never quarrels with a man she doesn’t know well.”
His mocking tone made her furious, but what he said scared her even more. And now she forced a bright smile onto her mouth if not into her eyes, and gave a quick sweeping glance to see if they were being watched. I’ve
She raised her voice a little, smiling. “I’m so glad you could come tonight, Lord Carlton. It isn’t often we have the company of a man who’s done so much for England.”
