Nan washed her hair and rubbed it almost dry, piling it on top of her head where she secured it with half-a-dozen bodkins. It was now close to ten and at last the sun had come out, for the first time in many days, so that where she sat in her tub the warmth fell across her bare shoulders and filled her with pleasure. She felt, as she usually did, that it was a wonderful thing to be alive, and was urging herself to leave the soapy luxury of her bath when there was a knock at the door.
“I’m not home,” called Amber after Nan. She had no intention of having her plans for this day disturbed, for anyone at all.
Nan returned a moment later. “It’s my lord Almsbury, mam.”
“Oh. Well, bring ’im in then.” Almsbury had not stayed long in town the last autumn but had recently come again for the spring session of Parliament and he visited her frequently—though he had given her no more money. But Amber did not care, for she was very fond of him. “Is he alone?”
“No, there’s another gentleman with him.” Nan rolled her eyes, but Nan was easily impressed by men.
“Have ’em wait in the parlour—I’ll be out in a trice.”
She stood and began to dry herself with a towel. From the other room came the low sound of the men’s voices; occasionally Nan giggled or burst into a peal of delighted laughter. Amber slipped into a green satin dressing-gown, took the bodkins out of her still slightly damp hair and ran a comb through it, stuck her feet into a pair of golden mules and started out. But she turned back again. After all—he might have someone of some consequence with him. She patted a little powder over her face, touched a perfume stopper to her wrists and throat, and smoothed some carmine into her lips. Then, pulling the neckline apart to show her breasts, she went to the door and opened it.
Almsbury stood before the fireplace and leaning against the mantel, smiling down at Nan, was Bruce Carlton.
CHAPTER TWENTY
HE RAISED HIS head quickly as she came in and their eyes met. Amber stood perfectly still, one arm braced against the doorjamb, staring at him. She felt her head begin to whirl and her heart to pound and she was suddenly paralyzed, unable to move or speak. He bowed to her then but Amber merely stood and trembled, cursing herself for a fool, but utterly helpless.
Almsbury came to her rescue. He crossed the room, kissed her casually, and slipped one arm about her waist. “What d’you think, sweetheart! The scoundrel put into town yesterday!”
“Did you?” said Amber weakly.
Bruce smiled, his eyes going swiftly down over her body. “The sailor’s home from the sea.”
“To stay?”
“No—at least not for long. Amber, may I go with you today?”
She glanced at Almsbury in surprise, for she had forgotten that she had told him her plans for the baby’s birthday. “Yes, of course. Will you wait while I dress?”
With Nan she went back into the bedroom and when the door was shut she sank against it, her eyes closed, as exhausted as though she had just finished some tremendous physical labour. Nan looked at her in alarm.
“Lord, mam! What is it? You don’t look well. Is he your husband?”
“No.” She gave a shake of her head, and started for the dressing-table, but her legs felt as though every bone and muscle had dissolved. “Will you get out that new gown Madame Drelincourt just finished?”
“But it’s raining again, mam. You might spoil it.”
“Never mind!” snapped Amber. “Just do as you’re told!” But she was instantly apologetic. “Oh, Nan, I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s the matter with me.”
“Neither do I, mam. I suppose you’ll not be wanting my company today?”
“No. Not today. I think you’d better stay here and polish the silver—I was noticing last night it’s somewhat tarnished.”
But as she painted her face and Nan dressed her hair she began to grow calmer, the blood seemed to flow in her veins again, and a passionate happiness replaced the first stunning sense of shock. She had thought him more handsome than ever, and the sight of him had filled her with the same intense irrational excitement she had felt the first time she had ever seen him. The past two years and a half had dissolved and vanished. Everything else in her life seemed suddenly unimportant, and dull.
Her new gown was made of chartreuse-coloured velvet and her shoes and stockings matched it exactly; her hooded cloak was topaz velvet, almost the same honey-rich colour as her eyes and hair, and she wore Rex Morgan’s topaz heart around her neck. She picked up her great mink muff and started for the door, but Nan stopped her: “When will you be home, mam?”
Amber tried to answer casually, from over her shoulder. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe I’ll be a little late.”
She saw disapproval on Nan’s face and knew that she was jealous for Rex, thinking that she ought not to go out there with another man, particularly a man who affected her as this one did.
“What about Captain Morgan?”
“The devil with Captain Morgan!” muttered Amber, and went back in to join Almsbury and Bruce.
When they were all in the coach, several gaily wrapped packages piled beside Amber, Almsbury gave a sudden snap of his fingers. “By God, I’m engaged to play at tennis with Sedley! Damned lucky thing I remembered!” With that he climbed out again, grinning back at them from the doorway. Bruce laughed and slapped him on the shoulder, Amber blew him a kiss, and the coach started off.
Behind them the Earl and Nan exchanged looks. “Well,” said his Lordship, “there’s no friend to love like a long voyage at sea,” and he climbed into his own coach and rattled off in the opposite direction.
Amber turned instantly to Lord Carlton. “Bruce! Oh—is it really and truly you! It’s been such a long time—oh, darling, it’s been two years and a half!”
She was close beside him as she looked up, her eyes seeming to swim in some luminous light, and his arm went around her. He bent his head swiftly and his mouth came down hard upon hers. Amber returned his kiss with wild abandon, forgetting where they were, straining toward him with a longing to be crushed and enveloped. She had a sense of plunging disappointment when he released her, as if she had been cut off in the midst of a dream, but he smiled and his fingers passed over her face, lightly caressing.
“What a charming little witch you are,” he said softly.
“Oh, Bruce, am I? Do you think so? Did you ever think about me—way over there?” She was intensely serious.
“I thought about you a great many times—more than I expected. And I worried about you too. I was afraid that someone might get that money away from you—”
“Oh, no!” protested Amber immediately. She would have died rather than let him know what had happened to her. “Don’t I look well enough?” A wave of her hand indicated her expensive clothes, the coach they rode in, her own triumph over the great world. “I can shift for myself, I’ll warrant you.”
He grinned, and if he saw through her bluff he gave no indication of it. “So it seems. But I should have known you would. You’ve got the world’s most marketable commodity—enough for ten women.”
“What’s that?” she asked him, putting on a demure face.
“You damned well know what it is, and I’m not going to flatter you any more. Tell me, Amber: What does he look like? How big is he?”
“Who?” She looked at him in sudden surprise, thinking that he meant Rex Morgan, and then they both burst into laughter. “Oh, the baby! Oh, Bruce, wait till you see him! He’s grown so big I can hardly lift him. And he’s so handsome! He looks just like you—his eyes are the same colour and his hair is getting darker all the time. You’ll adore him! But you should have seen ’im at first. Lord, he was a fright! I was almost glad you weren’t there—”