Tempest and Jeremiah were complaining about being kept so long in town and did not like being sent to the wharves. Jane—the serving-girl who had stayed with Amber—whined and wanted to go to her father’s home in Kent and so Amber let her. When Nan had been gone four days she asked Tempest and Jeremiah to look for Lord Carlton once more and told them that if they found him she would give them each a guinea. But for the money, she knew, they would merely drive around or go to a tavern for a couple of hours and then come back. By noon they were home again. Lord Carlton had come in the night before and they had just seen him down at the wharves, unloading his ships.
THE WHARVES WERE busy as an ant hill.
Ships with their gilded hulls gleaming, their tall masts mere bare skeletons, lay on the quiet water in great numbers. Many of them were men-of-war back from fighting the Dutch and in the process of being overhauled and cleaned. Broken seams were being mended with boiling-pitch, and the ropes bound with tarpaulin. Sailors and porters were everywhere, unloading the plundered treasure which had recently been seized, while captured Dutch flags snapped out bravely from the Tower. But there were also great numbers of crippled and wounded men, hobbling about, sitting, lying flat on their backs, all reaching out their hands to beg. For the most part they were ignored. The navy had not been paid and already some of the seamen were starving.
Amber got out of her coach and walked along the wharf between Tempest and Jeremiah, one hand shading her eyes against the hot sun. The beggars tried to touch her as she passed and some of the sailors whistled or made audible comments, but she was too absorbed in looking for Bruce even to hear them.
“There he is!” She started to run and the sound of her high heels on the boards made him turn. “Bruce!”
She came up to him, smiling eagerly and out of breath, expecting to be kissed. But instead he looked down at her with a scowl and she saw that his face was tired and his skin wet with sweat.
“What the devil are you doing down here?”
As he spoke he glanced around truculently at the men who were staring at her, for her cloak was opened over her black-satin gown and emeralds sparkled in her ears and on her fingers. Disappointed, offended by his surly tone, she had an instant of angry self-pity. But his look of exhaustion was real and her eyes went over him anxiously, tender as a mother’s caress. She had seldom seen him tired and now she longed to take him into her arms, kiss away the scowl and the weariness—her love for him rose up like a painful throbbing ache.
“Why, I came to see you, darling,” she answered softly. “Aren’t you glad?”
He gave a faint smile, as though ashamed of his ill temper, and ran the back of one hand across his moist forehead. “Of course I am.” His eyes went down over her figure. “The baby’s been born?”
“Yes—a little girl. I named her Susanna—Oh!” She remembered with a sudden sense of guilt. “Samuel’s dead.”
“I know. I heard about it this morning. Why aren’t you out of town?”
“I waited for you.”
“You shouldn’t have—it’s not safe in London. Where’s the baby?”
“I sent her and Nan and Tansy into the country. We can go too—and meet them—” She looked at him questioningly, afraid he might tell her that he already had other plans.
Bruce took her arm and they started back toward the coach. As they went he began talking in an undertone. “You’ve got to get away from here, Amber. You shouldn’t have come down at all. Ships carry disease, you know.”
“Oh, I’m not worried about that. I’ve got a unicorn’s horn.”
He laughed, but without much humour. “Unicorn’s horn—my God! A cuckold’s horn would do you as much good.”
They reached the coach and he handed her in. Then he braced one foot on the step, rested his arms on his knees and as he leaned forward to talk to her his voice was no more than a murmur. “You’ve got to get away from here as fast as you can. Some of my men are sick of the plague.”
Amber gasped in horror, but he made her a quick negative motion with his head. “But Bruce!” she whispered. “You might catch it too!”
“There’ve only been three cases. There was sickness on some of the Dutch ships we took and when we found it we sank them with everyone on board—but three of my own sailors have fallen sick since. They were moved off the ships last night and there haven’t been any new cases so far today.”
“Oh, Bruce! You can’t stay here! You’ve got to come away—Oh, darling, I’m scared! Have you got an amulet or something to protect yourself?”
He gave her a look of exasperated impatience, and ignored the last question. “I can’t leave now—I can’t leave until everything’s been unloaded and stored. But you’ve got to go. Please, Amber, listen to me. I’ve heard a rumour they’re going to lock the gates and forbid anyone’s leaving. Get out while there’s still time.”
She looked at him stubbornly. “I won’t go without you.”
