And then she felt the pressure of Buckingham’s knee and a light movement in her lap. Suddenly she found herself cold and clear-headed again, no longer desperate, and with a quick automatic gesture she picked the dice-box up from the table in one hand and the dice in the other. So quickly that it scarce seemed to happen she dropped the box into her lap and the one she recovered was the one just put there by Buckingham. Without looking she knew what it was: a false box painted inside to look like an honest one—and she tossed the dice in. The hours of practice she had had in Whitefriars and since now stood her in good stead—for the dice came forth like loyal soldiers: a five, a five, and another five. There was a gasp all around the room while Amber pretended astonishment at her own good fortune. The beet-faced Brouncker leaned down to whisper in Barbara’s ear.
And suddenly she sprang to her feet. “Very clever, madame!” she cried. “But I’m not one to be so easily put upon! There’s been some scurvy trick here—I’ll pass my word for that!” she added, addressing herself to the audience in general, and his Majesty in particular.
Amber was beginning to grow nervous, though already the Duke had reclaimed his box and the one she held in her hand was the same one Barbara had used. But she was prepared to run a bluff.
“Can’t anyone be allowed to get the better of your Ladyship but by some trick?” That drew a general laugh and Amber felt somewhat more comfortable; she carelessly tossed the box onto the table.
Still it was a serious matter for one person to accuse another of cheating, though all of them did—for just as some of the ladies liked to pretend they were virtuous or unpainted, so they pretended to play on the square. And to be caught now and labelled a cheat before all the Court, suddenly seemed to Amber so horrible a fate she would rather have been dead. It would be unbearable—to have everyone stand there and witness her defeat at the hands of Barbara Palmer!
And Barbara, convinced she had the hare cornered, came baying ruthlessly on the scent. “Only a false box would have turned ’em up like that! There wouldn’t be a chance in a thousand it could happen honestly!”
Amber by now was sick and shaking inside, and it took her a few seconds to find her answer. But when she did she tried to sound brazenly assured, so casually scornful that they could have no doubt of her honesty. “Come to think of it, your Ladyship’s throw was almost too good to be true—”
“I’ll have you know, madame, I’m not a cheat!” cried Barbara, who often lost such sums it seemed she must be either honest or clumsy. “There’s the box I used! Examine it, someone—” She snatched it up and suddenly leaned across the table, extending it to the King. “Now, your Majesty! You saw everything that happened! How does it look to you? You tell us which one cheated in this game!”
Charles took the box and looked it over very carefully, both inside and out, wearing his most serious and thoughtful expression. “As far as I can see,” he said at last, “there’s nothing wrong with this box.”
Amber sat there motionless and stiff, her heart hammering so violently she expected to faint. This was the end—the end of everything—it would be no use to go on living after this—
“Aha!” cried Barbara’s voice, in a triumphant brassy tone that Amber felt scrape mercilessly along her nerves. “Just as I thought! I knew—”
“But,” interrupted Charles in a lazy drawl, “since both of you used the same box I can see no reason for all this bustle and stir.”
Amber’s relief was so great now that it was all she could do to keep herself from slumping over and falling face down onto the table-top. But Castlemaine gave a high little screech of indignation.
“What? But we didn’t! She changed it! She—”
“I beg your pardon, madame, but—as you said—I saw everything that happened, and it’s my opinion her Ladyship played as much upon the square as you did.”
“But—”
“The hour’s growing late,” continued Charles imperturbably, and his snapping black eyes glanced round the table. “Don’t you all agree we might better be in bed?”
There was a general laugh at that and the crowd, convinced the show was over, began to break up. “A pretty deal of an odd sort!” muttered Castlemaine sourly. And then she leaned forward and said tensely to Amber, “I wouldn’t play with you again for crooked pins!” and she swung about and started off, with Brouncker and Bab May and little Jermyn hurrying in her wake like tenders.
Amber, still weak and helpless, finally managed to look up at the king with a grateful smile and a soundless whistle. He reached down to put his hand beneath her elbow and slowly she got to her feet.
“Thank you, Sire,” she said softly, for of course he knew that she had cheated. “I’d have been disgraced forever.”
Charles laughed. “Disgraced—here at Whitehall? Impossible, my dear. Did you ever hear of anyone being disgraced in hell?”
