“I’m not going to marry you, Amber. I told you that at the first and I’ve never once said anything to the contrary. I’m sorry this has happened—but you knew it probably would. And remember, it was your idea that you come to London—not mine. I won’t just leave you to drift—I’ll do everything I can to make it easier for you—everything that won’t interfere with my own plans. I’ll leave you money enough to take care of yourself and the baby. If you won’t go back to Marygreen the best thing is for you to go to one of the women here in London who take care of pregnant women and arrange for their lying-in—some of those places are very comfortable and no one will inquire too closely for your husband. When you’re well again you can do as you like. With a few hundred pound in cash a woman as beautiful as you are should be able to marry a country-squire, at the least—or perhaps a knight, if you’re clever enough—”
Amber stared at him. She was suddenly furious, all the pride and happiness she had felt at the prospect of bearing him a child was drowned now in pain and outraged pride. The sound of his voice enraged her—talking so coolly, as if falling in love with a man and having his baby was a matter to be settled with money and logic, like provisioning a ship! She almost hated him.
“Oh!” she cried. “So you’ll give me money enough to catch a knight—if I’m clever! Well, I don’t want to catch a knight! And I don’t want your money, either! And as for the matter of that—I don’t want your baby! I’m sorry I ever laid eyes on you! I hope you go away and I never see you again! I hate you! —Oh!—” She covered her face with her hands and began to cry.
Bruce stood watching her for a moment, but at last he put on his hat and started out of the room. Amber looked up. And when he had scarcely reached the bedroom door she ran after him.
“Where are you going?”
“Down to the wharf.”
“Will you come back tonight? Please come back! Please don’t leave me alone!”
“Yes—I’ll try to get here early. Amber—” His voice was again warm and smooth, caressing, tender. “I know this is hard for you and I’m truly sorry it’s happened. But it’ll be over sooner than you expect and you’ll be none the worse for it. It’s really no great tragedy when a woman has a baby—”
“No great tragedy to a man! You’ll go away and forget all about it—but
As the days passed she became convinced beyond all doubt that she actually was pregnant.
Less than a week after she had told him, she began to retch the moment she lifted her head in the mornings. She was morose and unhappy and cried upon the slightest provocation, or with none at all. He began coming home even later at night and when he did they often quarrelled; she knew that her ill temper was keeping him from her, but she could not seem to control herself. But she knew also that nothing she had said or could say would make him change his mind. And when he was away once for an entire day and night and until late the next night, she realized that she must give over her haranguing and tantrums or lose him even before he sailed. She could not bear the thought of that, for she still loved him, and she made a tremendous effort to seem once more gay and charming when they were together.
But alone she was no more reconciled than she had been and the hours without him seemed endless, while she trailed idly about the house, steeped in pity for herself. This great world of London to which she had come with such brilliant expectations only four months ago now seemed a dismal place and full of woe. She had not the vaguest idea as to what she would do when he was gone and refused to discuss it with him, even pushing the thoughts out of her own mind when they began to creep in. When that day came she felt that the end of the world would also come, and did not care what happened afterward.
One hot mid-morning in late August Amber was down in the courtyard playing with some puppies that had been born at the inn a month or so before. She knelt on the flag-stones in the mottled shade of a fruit-heavy plum tree, laughing and holding two of the puppies in her arms while the proud mother lay nearby, wagging her tail and keeping a careful eye on her offspring. And then, unexpectedly, she glanced up and saw Bruce leaning on the rail of the gallery outside their bedroom, watching her.
He had left several hours before and she had not expected him back till evening, at the earliest. Her first reaction was one of delight that he had come home and surprised her and she gave him a wave as she got quickly to her feet, putting the puppies back into their box. But then immediately a slow stealthy fear began to sneak in. It grew ominously, and as she reached the stairs and started to mount them she raised her eyes and met his. She knew it then for sure. He was leaving today.
