She stood and looked at him, not knowing what to do next. For though she had to admit to herself that she really was, in a sense, flattered by his proposal, she could not agree with him that fidelity to the man you loved was of no importance. It seemed incredible she could ever so much as think of lying with another man. She never would, not as long as she lived.
And then there came again the sound of a coach rattling over the cobblestones; she whirled around and ran once more to the window. The coach came careening down the street, rocking from side to side, the driver hauled on the reins and it stopped just beneath. Nimbly as a monkey the footman got down from his perch and ran to open the door, and after a moment Lord Carlton got out, turning then to speak to someone inside. Another footman held a flaring torch which lighted one side of his Lordship’s face and threw stark shadows up the street and upon the walls of the houses.
Amber was about to lean out and call a greeting when, to her horror, a woman thrust her head from the coach-window and she caught a glimpse of a beautiful white face, laughing, and a tumbling mass of red hair. Bruce’s head bent above her and she heard their voices murmuring. After a moment he stepped back, bowing and removing his hat, the footman closed the door and the coach rolled away. He turned and disappeared through the arch below.
Amber stood clutching at the sill, almost sick enough to faint. And then, by a great physical effort, she straightened again and turned slowly about. The colour had washed out of her face and her heart was beating violently. For several moments she stood and stared before her—not even seeing Almsbury who was watching her with a kind of compassionate sympathy on his face. She let her eyes close and one hand went up slowly to her forehead.
At that moment the door opened and Bruce came in.
HE paused as if in surprise, glancing from one of them to the other, but before he had had time to say a word Amber burst into tears and ran into the bedroom, slamming the door behind her and flinging herself onto the bed.
The sobs wrenched and tore at her and she gave herself up to them with complete abandon. This was the most miserable moment in all her life and she had no wish to be brave and restrained. Suffering in silence was not her way. And, when he did not come in immediately, running after her as she had expected, she grew increasingly hysterical—until finally she began to retch.
But finally she heard the door open and then the sound of his footsteps crossing the floor. Her sobs became louder than ever. Oh! she thought vehemently, I wish I’d die! Right now! Then he’d be sorry!
The room began to glow as he lighted a couple of candles. She heard him toss his cloak and hat aside and unbuckle his sword, but still he said nothing. At last she lifted her head from her arms and looked at him; her face was streaked and her eyes red and swollen.
“Well!” she cried, challenging him.
“Good evening.”
“Is
“What else should I say?”
“You might at least tell me where you’ve been—and who you’ve been with!”
He was untying his cravat now, and taking off his doublet. “Don’t you think that that’s my business?”
She gasped, as hurt as if he had struck her. She had given herself to him so wholeheartedly, with not a single reservation, that she had made herself believe he had done the same. Now she realized all at once that he had not. His life had not changed, his habits had not changed, she had scarcely touched him at all.
“Oh,” she said softly, and looked away.
For a moment he stood watching her, and then he came suddenly and sat down on the bed. “I’m sorry, Amber, I didn’t mean to be rude. And I’m sorry I had to leave you—spoil your evening that you’ve been counting on for so long. But it really was business that called me away—”
She looked at him skeptically, the tears brimming over her eyes again and falling in drops onto her satin gown. “Business indeed! What kind of business does a man do with a woman!”
He smiled, his eyes tender and yet amused. She always had the feeling, and it made her uncomfortable, that he did not quite take her seriously.
“More than you might imagine, darling, and I’ll tell you why: The King can’t possibly satisfy or repay everyone who was loyal to him—he’s got to make a choice from among a thousand claims, one as good as another. I don’t think his Majesty could ever be persuaded by a woman—or anyone else—to do something he didn’t want to, but when it comes to choosing between several things he’d like to do—why then the right woman can be very useful in helping him to make up his mind. Just now there’s no one who can do more to persuade the King than a young woman named Barbara Palmer—who’s been kind enough to use her influence in my behalf—”
Barbara Palmer!
So that was the woman she had seen!
