But Black Jack assured her soothingly that she was the prettiest thing he had ever seen, and they went downstairs to meet Mother Red-Cap. They found her seated at one of the tables with her back to them and a candle at her elbow, writing in an enormous ledger which lay spread open before her. As Black Jack spoke to her she turned and then immediately got to her feet and came forward. She gave Amber a friendly kiss on the cheek and smiled her approval at Black Jack, who stood there proudly beaming over both of them.
“A gentry-more she is, Jack.” She glanced over her figure. “When do you reckon?”
“About two months, I think.”
Amber was looking at her wide-eyed, amazed to find that she bore no resemblance at all to the dissolute old harridan she had been expecting. She did not, in fact, look any more vicious than Aunt Sarah. Mother Red-Cap was fifty-five years old but her skin was clear and smooth and her eyes snapped brightly. Smaller than Amber, her body was trim and compact, and all her movements suggested a fund of unexpressed energy. The clothes she wore were plain neat ones made of cotton and wool with starched collar and cuffs and apron, and there was not a jewel in sight. A bright red cap covered every wisp of hair and Black Jack had told Amber that in almost ten years he had never seen her without it.
“I’ll have a midwife for you in good time, then,” she said, “and we’ll find a woman to take the baby.”
“Take the baby where!” cried Amber, suddenly on the defensive.
“Don’t be alarmed, my dear,” said Mother Red-Cap reasonably, and the accent with which she spoke reminded Amber of Lord Carlton and his friends. “Who’d want a baby to live in the Friars? Most of those who do, die before their first year is out. We can get a cleanly responsible cottager’s wife who will care for the child and let you visit him whenever you like. Oh, it’s a very satisfactory arrangement—many women do it,” she assured her, as Amber still did not look convinced. “Now,” she turned briskly and went back to her ledger. “Tell me your full name.”
Black Jack spoke up quickly. “Mrs. Channel is all she wants to give. I’ll pay the garnish-fee for her.”
Amber had not told even Black Jack her real name and he did not seem to care for he said that his own was assumed and that any person of sense kept his name secret in Alsatia.
“Very well. No one here is interested in prying into the past. Black Jack tells me you’re in debt for four hundred pound and want to pay it so that you can leave the Friars. I don’t blame you—I think you’re too pretty to stay here long, and I assure you I’ll put the means of earning that sum in your way, just as soon as you’re able to go abroad.” Amber started to ask her how, but Mother Red-Cap went crisply on. “Meanwhile, we’ll have to do something to get rid of that accent. A girl from the country is generally assumed to be a fool here in London, and that’s a handicap to the best laid plans. I think that Michael Godfrey might make a good tutor for her, don’t you, Black Jack? And now, my dear, make yourself comfortable with us and ask for whatever you want or need. I’ll leave you now; this is the first of the month and I must call upon my tenants.”
She closed the ledger, put it into a drawer of the table, and locked it with a key taken from her apron-pocket. Then tossing a cloak over her arm, she smiled at them both and went to the door. Once again she turned to give Amber a sweeping glance, shook her head slightly, and remarked, “A pity you’re so far gone with child. Three months ago you’d have brought a hundred pound as a maidenhead.”
She went out and though Black Jack burst into hearty laughter Amber turned to him with an angry light in her eyes. “What the devil does that old woman intend? If she thinks I’m going to earn my way out of here by—”
“Don’t get excited. She doesn’t—I’ll see to that. But once a bawd, always a bawd. And Mother Red-Cap’s such a matchmaker I’ll swear she could have married the Pope to Queen Elizabeth.”
What Mother Red-Cap’s real name was, Amber never learned, but very obviously Black Jack not only liked her but had a strong masculine admiration for her success, her uncompromising determination, her ability to survive and prosper no matter what happened to others. But Amber could not understand why the woman lived so frugally when she did not need to, or why she had chosen a life of chastity after what must have been an exciting youth. For those reasons she felt a frank but unexpressed contempt for her and decided that she could not be so very clever after all.
But nevertheless she exerted herself to make Mother Red-Cap like her and believed that she was succeeding very well. For Black Jack had flatly refused, the first time she broached the subject, to give her money enough to pay her debt—and it had led to a quarrel between them.
“I think you
“I certainly do. What d’ye think I got you out of jail for? You’re an ungrateful little bitch!”
