There was one of them in particular to whom she seemed most attracted. He was Sir Frederick Fothergill, a brash confident young fop who was seen everywhere it was fashionable to be seen and who did everything it was fashionable to do. He was tall, thin, effeminately handsome, but he was also an ardent duellist and had distinguished himself as a volunteer against the Dutch during the past two years.
Amber inquired into his circumstances and learned that he was the son of a man who had not profited by the Restoration—as most of the Royalists had not—and that he was deep in debt and constantly going deeper. He lived an expensive life, bought fine clothes and kept his coach, gambled without much luck and was often compelled to sneak out of his lodgings or to stay with friends to avoid the dunning of his creditors. Amber guessed that he would be glad to find so apparently simple a solution to his problems.
She sent for him one morning and he came to her apartments. She had dismissed the tradesmen but there were still several others in the room: Nan and half-a-dozen women servants, a dressmaker just gathering up her materials to leave, Tansy and the dog, and Susanna. Susanna stood with her plump elbows on Amber’s crossed knees, her great green eyes staring up solemnly at her mother who was explaining that young ladies should not snatch off the wigs of gentlemen. She had experimented once with the King’s periwig, found that it came off, and had since made a grab at every man who leaned close enough. Now, however, she nodded her head in docile agreement.
“And you won’t ever do that again, will you?” said Amber.
“Never again,” agreed Susanna.
Sir Frederick came in then, made her an elaborate bow from the doorway and another when he stood before her. “Your Ladyship’s servant,” he said soberly, but his eyes swept over her with familiarity and confidence.
Susanna curtsied to him and Sir Frederick bent very low to kiss her hand. Her eyes lighted on his wig, began to sparkle with mischief, and then she gave a quick guilty glance toward her mother whom she found watching her and waiting, with pursed lips and tapping foot. Instantly she put both hands behind her. Amber laughed, gave her daughter a kiss and sent her out of the room with her nurse. She watched her go, her eyes wistful and fond as they followed the dainty little figure in ankle-length crisp white gown and tiny apron, her mass of golden waves caught at one side with a green bow. She was very proud of Susanna who was, she felt sure, the loveliest little girl in England—and England, of course, was the world. The door closed and she turned back immediately to Sir Frederick, asking him to be seated.
Amber went to her dressing-table to finish painting her face. He sat beside her, very smug and pleased with himself to have been invited to her Ladyship’s levée—and in such privacy too, not another man around. He imagined that he knew quite well why she had asked him.
“Your Ladyship does me great honour,” he said, his eyes on her breasts. “I’ve had the greatest admiration for your Ladyship ever since the first day I saw you—in the forefront of the King’s box at the theatre some months ago. I vow and swear, madame, I could not keep my mind or eyes on the stage.”
“That’s very kind of you, sir. As it happens I’ve been noticing you, too—in conversation with my mother-in-law—”
“Pshaw!” He screwed up his face and gave a brush of one hand. “She’s nothing to me, I assure you!”
“She speaks mighty well of you, sir. I could almost say I think she’s in love with you.”
“What? Ridiculous! Well, what if she is? That’s nothing to me, is it?”
“You haven’t taken advantage of her tenderness for you, I hope?”
She got up now and crossed the room to stand behind a screen while she dressed. And as she went she let her dressing-gown slide just a little, allowing him a glimpse of one taut full breast just before she disappeared; she still wanted the admiration of every man, however little he might be to her. But she slept with Charles—or alone.
It was a moment before Sir Frederick replied, and then he was emphatic. “Lord, no! I’ve never so much as asked her an indecent question. Though to tell your Ladyship truly I think that if I did I might not be disappointed.”
“But you’re too much the man of honour to make a try?”
“I’m afraid, madame, she’s not quite to my taste.”
“Oh, isn’t she, Sir Frederick? And why not, pray?”
Sir Frederick was becoming baffled. When she had invited him to pay her a call he had told all his friends that the young Countess of Danforth had fallen mightily in love with him and had sent for him to lie with her. Now he began to think that she did not want him for herself after all, that perhaps she was playing bawd to procure him for her mother-in-law. A pretty fool he’d look if she intended to fob him off on that old jade!
“Well, she’s a great deal older than I am, your Ladyship. My God, she must be forty! Old women may like young men, but I’m afraid it can’t be said that the reverse holds true.”
Now fully dressed, Amber walked to the dressing-table, where she began sorting through a boxful of jewels. Nothing in all her new life at Court had pleased her so much as this moment when she found herself so high, so rich, so powerful, that she could arrange the lives of others to suit herself. She held up a diamond-and-emerald bracelet to the light, rolling out her lower lip as she considered it, aware of his eyes watching her and aware too of what he was thinking.
“Well, then, Sir Frederick, I’m sorry to hear that.” She fastened the bracelet. “I had thought I might be able to help your case with her. She’s a great fortune, you know.” She pawed idly through the rest of the jewellery.
He came instantly to life, straightening in his chair, leaning forward. “A fortune, did you say?”
She looked at him with mild surprise. “Why, yes, of course. Didn’t you know that? Lord, she’s got a hundred suitors, all of ’em mad to marry her. She’s considering which one she’ll have—and I thought she had a peculiar fancy to you.”
“A fortune! I didn’t know she had a shilling! Everyone told me—Well, your Ladyship, to tell you truly, this is a mighty great surprise!” He seemed stunned, unable to believe the good luck which had apparently blown his way by accident. “How much—a—that is—”
Amber came to his rescue. “Oh, I should say about five thousand pound.”
“Five thousand! A year!” Five thousand a year was, in fact, a fortune of immense size.
“No,” said Amber. “Five thousand in all. Oh, of course she has some property too.” That was obviously a disappointment to him and as she saw the look on his face she added, “I think she was about to accept young What-d’ye-call—I don’t remember his name just now. The one who always wears the green-satin suit. But if you speak to her quick enough perhaps you can persuade her to give you a hearing.”
It was not two weeks later that Sir Frederick married the Dowager Baroness.
Aware that most pretty young women with money had either sharp-eyed parents or guardians who would never consider him a good match, he began to pay his court to her almost immediately upon quitting Amber’s apartments—and when he proposed she accepted him. Amber gave her five thousand pounds in return for a witnessed statement that she would never again ask or expect money from her.