“You do?” cried Amber, delighted. “What else do you see?”
“I see jealousy and discord. But also,” he added hastily at a protesting frown from Amber, “I see that the sextiles of Venus to Neptune and Uranus give you considerable magnetism—no man may resist you.”
“Ohhh—” breathed Amber. “Gemini! What else do you see? Will I have children?”
“Let me see your palm again, madame. Yes, indeed, a very fair table—the line of riches well extended. The wheels of fortune are large. These intersparsings betoken children. You will have—let me see—several. Seven, I should say, more or less.”
“When will I have the first one? Soon?”
“Yes, I think so. Very soon—” His eyes went down over her cloak, but nothing was revealed there. “That is, of course,” he added cautiously, “within a reasonable time. You understand, madame.”
“And when will I get married—soon, too?” Her voice and eyes were hopeful, almost pleading with him.
“Let me see. Hmmm—let me see. Now, what did you dream last night? I’ve found there’s nothing to compare with a dream for telling a woman when she’ll marry.”
Amber frowned, trying to remember. She could recall nothing but that she had dreamed of pounding spices, which she had often done for Sarah—particularly after the two annual fairs, when they were purchased in bulk. That fragment, however, was enough for Mr. Chout’s purpose.
“That’s very important, madame. Very important. To dream of pounding spices always foretells matrimony.”
“Will I marry the man I love?”
“Why, truly, madame, that I can’t say for certain.” But at Amber’s stricken expression he again hastened to amend his statement. “Of course, madame, you will marry him one day—perhaps not today or tomorrow—but someday. These lines here betoken husbands. You will have, let me see, some half-a-dozen, more or less.”
“Half-a-dozen! I don’t want half-a-dozen! I just want one!” She pulled her hand away from him, for he seemed sticky and repulsive to her, and he had been holding on somewhat too tightly. But he was not done yet.
“And one thing more I see—if I may be frank with you?—I see that someday you will have, madame, a hundred lovers.” His greedy eyes watched her with obscene calculation, taking vicarious pleasure from her look of surprise and the faint pink blush that spread over her face and neck. “More or less, that is.”
Amber gave an excited little laugh. He was making her feel ill-at-ease and she wished that she was out of there; it was difficult to breathe, and though he had moved no nearer he seemed to be oppressively close. “A hundred lovers!” she cried, trying to sound city-bred and casual. “Marry come up! One’s enough for me! Is that all, Mr. Chout?” She got to her feet.
“Isn’t that enough, madame? I don’t often discover as much, let me tell you. The fee is ten shillings.”
Amber took a dozen or more coins from her muff and dropped them onto the table. His broad grin told her that most likely she had overpaid, again. But she did not care. Bruce always left a handful of coins for her to use and when one pile was gone another appeared in its place. Ten shillings as a sum of money meant nothing to her at all.
I’m going to have a baby and marry Bruce and be rich! she thought exultantly as she rode home.
That night she asked Bruce what the planet Venus was, though she did not tell him of her visit and did not intend to, until something more definite had come of it. But perhaps he guessed.
“It’s a star called Venus after the Roman goddess of love. It’s supposed to control the destinies of those who are born under it. I believe such people are thought to be beautiful and desirable and generally dominated by emotion—if you believe in that kind of nonsense.” He was smiling at her, for Amber’s face showed her shock at this heretical statement.
“Don’t
“No, darling, I don’t believe in it.”
“Well—” She put her hands on her hips and gave her curls a toss. “One day you will, I warrant you. Just wait and see.”
But nothing which happened immediately seemed to indicate that any of Mr. Chout’s predictions were coming true. And meanwhile her life continued very much as it had been.
Most of the time Bruce was away from home, either gambling at the Groom Porter’s Lodge, where the nobles went to play cards and dice, or overseeing the supplying and loading of his ships. Often, too, she knew that he went to balls or suppers given at Court or the homes of his friends. And though she thought wistfully of how wonderful it would be to go with him he did not ask her and she never mentioned it. For she was still strongly conscious of the great gulf which separated his social position from hers—and yet when she lay waiting for him to come back she was lonely and sad, and jealous too. She was morbidly afraid of Barbara Palmer and other women like her.
Almsbury often came to call and, if Bruce was not there, took her out somewhere with him.
