Rebuffed, the landlady climbed the stairs ahead of them and unlocked a clean lavender-scented chamber, but whenever she thought that the Earl was not looking she glanced surreptitiously at Amber. She lighted the candles and soon had a brisk blaze in the fireplace. Then, just before going, she hesitated again, looking with real distress at Amber where she lay on the bed, just as the footman had put her down.
“My wife does not need your attention!” snapped Radclyffe, so sharply that the woman gave an embarrassed start and hurried from the room. He walked to the closed door, listened for a moment and then, apparently satisfied that she had gone on, returned to the bedside.
Though now fully conscious, Amber felt dull and heavy and irritable, her head ached and her muscles were stiff and sore. She drew a deep sigh. For several moments both of them remained silent and waiting, but at last she said: “Well, why don’t you untie me? I can’t get away from you now!” She looked up at him sullenly. “How damned clever you must think you are!” She had already begun to realize that he must have tied her merely to satisfy some brutal whim of his own, for deeply drugged as she had been it would not have been necessary in order to move her about.
He shrugged and smiled a little, frankly pleased with himself. “I believe I’ve studied chemistry to some purpose. It was in the wine, of course. You couldn’t smell it or taste it, could you?”
“D’ye think I’d have drunk it if I could! For the love of God untie these ropes—my legs and arms are dead.” She was beginning to twist about, trying to find a more comfortable position and to make the blood run again, for she felt so cold and numb that it seemed to have stopped altogether.
He ignored her request and took a chair beside her, with the air of a man who sits down to console a sick person for whose condition he has no real pity. “What a shame you couldn’t meet him. I hope he didn’t wait too long.”
Amber looked at him swiftly—and then, very slowly, she smiled, a malicious cruel little smile. “There’ll be another day. You can’t keep me tied up forever.”
“I don’t intend to. You may go back to London and Whitehall and play the bitch whenever you like—but when you do, madame, I shall bring suit to get all your money in my possession. I think I would win it, too, with no great difficulty. The King may be willing to lie with you—but you’ve a long way to go before he’ll discommode himself for you. A whore and a mistress are not the same thing—even though you may not be able to see the difference between them.”
“I see it well enough! All women aren’t such fools as you like to think! I see
“Oh, do you?” His tone had the subtle sneering contempt with which he had almost habitually addressed her since the day of their marriage.
“You may pretend it’s only my money you want—but I know better. You’re stark staring mad at the thought of having another man do what you can’t do.
“Madame!”
“I’m not afraid of you! You’re jealous of every man who’s potent and you hate me because you can’t—”
His right hand lashed out suddenly and struck her across the face, so hard that her head snapped to one side and the blood came rushing to the surface. His eyes were cold.
“As a gentleman I disapprove of slapping a woman. I have never, in my life, done so before. But I am your husband, madame, and I will be spoken to with respect.”
Like a vicious spitting cat, Amber recoiled. Her breathing had almost stopped and her mottled golden eyes were glowing. As she spoke her lips lifted away from her teeth like a malignant animal’s. “Oh, how I detest you—” she said softly. “Someday I’ll make you pay for the things you’ve done to me—someday I swear I’ll kill you ...”
He looked at her with contempt and loathing. “A threatening woman is like a barking dog—I have as much respect for one as for the other.” There was a knock at the door and though he hesitated for a moment at last he turned his head.
“Come in!”
It was the landlady, cheerful and pink-cheeked and smiling, carrying in her arms a table-cloth and napkins and the pewterware for the table. Behind her came a thirteen-year-old girl balancing a tray loaded with appetizing food; she was followed by her little brother with two dusty green bottles and a couple of shining glasses. The landlady looked at Amber, who still lay half on one side, propped on her elbow, covered with the robe.
“Well!” she said briskly. “Madame is better now? I’m glad! It’s a good supper if I do say so, and I want you to enjoy it!” She gave her a friendly woman-to-woman smile, obviously trying to convey that she understood what a young wife must go through with her first pregnancy. Amber, her face still burning from the slap, forced herself to smile in return.
