He got up slowly, bowed to her—though she could see the muscles about his mouth twitch and squirm with the effort to control his rage—and walked out of the room. Amber banged the whip down again, furiously, and yelled after him: “I won’t stay! I won’t! I won’t! I won’t!” As the door closed behind him, she slammed the riding-whip through the window and rushed into the adjoining room where she found Nan gossiping with Susanna’s dry-nurse. “Nan! Pack my things! I’m going to London in my own coach! That bastard—”
Susanna ran to her mother, stamped her foot, and repeated with a shake of her curls: “That bas-tard!”
When dinner was announced Amber did not go down. She was busy getting ready to leave and was so angry and excited that she had no appetite. And when Radclyffe sent again, demanding that she join them, she refused point-blank, shut the outer door to their apartments, locked it and flung aside the key.
“He’s told me one time too many what I can do and what I can’t!” she hotly informed Nan. “I’ll be damned if that stinking old scoundrel can lead me like a bear by the nose any longer!”
But when she had changed her clothes and was ready to go she discovered that the doors leading into the gallery had been locked from the other side and that her own key was not to be found. There was no other outside entrance, for the rooms opened one into another, and though she hammered and pounded and kicked she got no answer. At last in a passionate temper she flung back into the bedchamber and began smashing everything she could lay her hands on. Nan ran out, arms up over her head. By the time Amber had exhausted herself the room was a shambles.
After a while someone opened the door into the entrance hall and slid a trayful of food in, rapped to call her attention, and then ran off down the gallery. The Earl had evidently informed the servants that his wife was having another fit. A maid brought the tray in and placed it on a table beside the bed where her mistress lay. Amber turned, grabbed up the cold fowl and flung it across the room; then shoved away the tray and dishes, which crashed onto the floor.
After three hours had gone by Nan ventured back into the room. Amber sat up cross-legged on the bed to talk to her. She was determined to go to London anyway, if she had to climb out the window, but Nan tried to convince her that if she disobeyed his Lordship he might bring an action against her, obtain a separation and get control of all her money.
“Remember,” cautioned Nan, “his Majesty may like you—but his Majesty likes all pretty ladies. And you know his nature—he doesn’t love to meddle where it’s any trouble to him. You’d be wise to stay here, mam,
Amber had thrown off her shoes and undone her hair and she sat with elbows propped on her knees, glowering. She was beginning to grow very hungry, for she had had nothing but a glass of fruit syrup since seven o’clock that morning, and it was now four-thirty. Her eye went to the cold roast fowl, which someone had picked up, dusted, and set back on the tray.
“But what am I to do? Moult out here in the country for the rest of my life? I tell you I won’t do it!”
Suddenly they became aware of a muffled pounding and a woman’s faint frantic cries. They looked at each other, both of them held taut in an attitude of listening and surprise. It was Jenny, hammering at the outer door—and with a leap Amber was off the bed and running through the intervening rooms toward her.
“Your Ladyship!” screamed Jenny, and there were hysterical tears in her voice. “Your Ladyship! Your Ladyship!”
“Here I am, Jenny! What’s happened? What’s the matter?”
“It’s Philip! He’s sick! He’s desperately sick! I’m afraid he’s dying! Oh, your Ladyship—you’ve
A chill of horror ran over Amber. Philip sick—
“What’s the matter with him? I can’t get out, Jenny! I’m locked in! Where’s the Earl?”
“He’s gone! He left three hours ago! Oh, Amber—you’ve got to get out! He’s calling for you!” Jenny began to sob.
Amber looked around helplessly. “I
Nan was beside her now and as Jenny’s heels pounded off down the hallway the two women picked up brass shovels from the fireplace and began to beat at the lock. In only a minute or two Jenny was back.
“They say his Lordship left orders not to let you out no matter what happened!”
“Where’s the footman!”
“He’s here—but he says he doesn’t dare unlock the door! Oh, Amber, tell him he’s got to! Philip—”
“Open this door, you varlet!” shouted Amber. “Open it or I’ll set fire to the house!” She smashed furiously against the lock with the brass shovel.
