“I’ve got everything you like best for supper: Westphalia-style ham and roast duck and an almond pudding and champagne. It isn’t easy to get French wines any more, either, since the war. Lord, I don’t know how we’ll shift for new styles if we go to war with France! Do
She walked toward him, slowly, and his green eyes darkened like water. He swallowed the rest of the brandy and got to his feet, and though for a moment they stood staring at each other he made no move to touch her. Amber waited, almost afraid to breathe; but as he scowled and turned half away, picking up his glass and the brandy decanter again, she said softly: “I’ll put the food on the table.”
She went through the dining-room and into the kitchen where the waiter who had brought the food had left the hot soup simmering over some embers in the fireplace. When she had served the soup they sat down to eat and though both of them tried to keep up a lively conversation, it stumbled and lagged.
He told her that he had taken five Dutch merchant-vessels, all of them valuable prizes. He said that he thought there would be war with France because France did not want England to win a decisive victory, and had to protect Holland to keep her from forming an alliance with Spain. Amber told him some of the gossip she had heard from Buckhurst and Sedley: that the Lowestoft victory would have been a much greater one but that Henry Brouncker gave orders in York’s name to slacken sail, so that the battered Dutch fleet escaped. And—more exciting, she thought—she told him how the Earl of Rochester had kidnapped the great heiress, Mrs. Mallet, and been put in the Tower by the King for his effrontery.
He said that the meal was delicious, but he ate slowly and obviously had no appetite. At last he laid down his fork. “I’m sorry, Amber, but I can’t eat. I’m not hungry.”
She got up from the table and went around to him, for her fears had been growing steadily. He did not look tired; he looked sick. “Perhaps you should sleep, darling. After staying up all night you must be—”
“Oh, Amber, there’s no use pretending about this. I’ve got the plague. At first I thought it was only lack of sleep. But I’ve too many symptoms the other men had—no appetite, headache, dizziness, sweating, and now I begin to feel nauseated.” He flung down his napkin and pushed back his chair, slowly heaving himself to his feet. “I’m afraid you’ll have to go alone, Amber.”
She looked at him steadily. “I won’t go without you, Bruce, and you know it! But I’m sure it isn’t the plague. It can’t be! You’re well and strong—When you’ve had a night’s sleep I
He smiled faintly, but shook his head. “No, I’m afraid you’re wrong. I only hope to God I haven’t exposed you. That’s why I didn’t kiss you. I was afraid—” He looked around. “Where’s my hat and cloak?”
“You’re not going anywhere! You’re going to stay here with me! Lord, I’ve looked and felt as bad as you do a hundred times and next day I was up and about!
“Oh, Amber, my dear—You don’t think I’d let you? I might be dead by—”
“Bruce! Don’t say that! If it is the plague I’ll take care of you and make you well again. I learned how to take care of a sick person from my Aunt Sarah.”
“But it’s infectious—you might catch it too. And it’s highly fatal. No, darling, I’m going. Get my hat and cloak—go on.”
He turned away and the look of worried anger he had tried to conceal before now showed plainly. His face was wet with sweat, so that the drops slid along his jaw, and he moved like a man half drunk. His muscles seemed almost useless. There was a pounding headache over his eyes and a dull aching pain had filled his back and loins and went down into his legs. At a sudden chill he shuddered involuntarily, and the feeling of nausea was overwhelming.
Amber took hold of his arm, determined to keep him there somehow if she had to knock him unconscious. For if he went out onto the street she knew that he either would be taken up by a constable for drunkenness—a mistake which was frequently made—or would be sent to a pest-house. If he was sick, and she was finally convinced that he was, she intended to take care of him.
“Lie down here for a moment on the settee by the fireplace and rest while I make you a tea of some herbs. You can’t stir a step in this state. It’ll make you feel better, I swear it, and I’ll have it ready in a trice.”
