Winsor, Kathleen (153 page)

Buckingham
smiled blandly. "Get rid of you, madame? I protest. Why should I? You're
far too useful to me."

"Of
course," she agreed. "I doubt not you'd rather see my head stuck on a
pole over London Bridge than your own."

"Bah!
His Majesty wouldn't put you to trial if you murdered his own brother. He's far
too tender of any woman he's ever laid with. But don't trouble yourself,
madame—I'm no such clumsy contriver as to endanger either of us."

Amber
did not argue with him on that point, but she knew well enough why he could not
manage the business without her—he wanted a scapegoat should anything go wrong.
And she was, furthermore, the one woman then at Court most likely to be able to
wheedle the King into thinking or pretending to
think that his Lordship had died
from natural causes. If she failed, then it was she who must suffer the
consequences.

But
Amber did not expect to fail. Almost by the time he had told her what his plan
was she had another of her own. The Duke's scheme was a challenge to which her
own ingenuity could not but rise and she began to shed some of her paralyzing
torpor. She thought she could see a way to deceive the Duke, outwit the Baron,
and make herself a great sum of money at very little risk.

Buckingham
delivered to her the twenty-five hundred pounds he had promised—the other half
to be paid when the Baron lay safe in his grave—and Amber sent for Shadrac
New-bold to come get it. She did not intend to chance having his Grace steal it
back. Then she went to keep the appointment she had made with Arlington.

It
was near midnight when she left the Palace in a clothes-hamper borne by two
porters, covered with her own soiled smocks and petticoats which were
supposedly being carried to her laundress. A moment later Nan came out the same
door. She was dressed in the clothes and jewels Amber had had on earlier that
day and she wore a wig the colour of Amber's hair; her face was covered with a
vizard. A man who had been loitering about that entrance since nightfall looked
after the hamper as if undecided whether he should follow it or not— but when
Nan appeared, climbed into Amber's great coach and went off, he whistled to
signal his own coach and followed her instead.

Nan
took a leisurely roundabout course across town to Camomile Street, giggling as
she watched the Duke's spy try to keep at a discreet distance without losing
sight of her. He waited outside a lodging-house for her for three hours and
when she had gone inquired of the landlady who lived there. On being told that
the apartment was taken by Mr. Harris, a young actor of the Duke's Theatre, he
went to make his report to Buckingham, who sat picking his teeth with a gold
toothpick and meditatively sucking air through them, amused that the Duchess
should be consorting with such low creatures after all the trouble she had
taken to rise above them.

Amber,
meanwhile was carried to an obscure little courtyard in one of the festering
alleys of Westminster. The porters had some difficulty getting their burden up
to the dirty little third-floor tenement lodging, and Amber alternately held
her breath and cursed as she felt the hamper tip, slide, thump on each step.
But at last they set her down and went out. Hearing the door close she knocked
up the top of the hamper, flung off the covering linen and drew a deep breath.
She was just climbing out when Arlington entered from an adjoining chamber—his
black cloak swept almost to the floor, his hat was pulled low over his eyes and
he held a vizard in one hand.

"The
time's short, my lord," said Amber, untangling a petticoat from about her
shoulders and neck and throwing it
aside. "I've got some information
of great value—I'll give it you for five thousand pound."

Arlington's
expression did not alter. "That's very civil of you, madame. But five
thousand is a considerable sum. I don't think I can—"

Impatiently
Amber interrupted him. "I'm no mercer, my lord, to let you run on tick. My
payment must be cash. But maybe we can strike up a bargain. I'll tell you part
of what I know now and if you pay me tomorrow I'll take care the plot
miscarries. If you don't—" Lightly she shrugged, and the implication was
that some very unpleasant misfortune would befall him.

"That
sounds a reasonable piece of thinking for a woman."

"Someone
intends to murder your Lordship—I know when and how. If you pay me I can spoil
the plot—"

Arlington
remained imperturbable. He had more enemies than he knew, and he knew a great
many—but this seemed to him transparent.

"I
think I can spoil the plot myself, madame, and save five thousand pound."

"How!"

"If
I made an accusation—"

"You
don't dare, and you know it!"

She
was right, for if he so much as hinted his suspicions to the King, Buckingham
would be upon him and drag it out into the open. And the Duke was still too
powerful, had too much interest outside Court in quarters where the King
desperately needed what support he could get. If Arlington were to accuse him
of plotting his murder the Duke could ruin him politically even quicker than he
could end his life by poison. Perhaps that, after all, was what he
wanted—perhaps that was why he had brought her into the plot. Arlington
regarded this as another instance of a woman meddling to make his life more
difficult—and expensive.

"For
all I know," he said, "this may be only a plot of yours to get money.
I don't think anyone would dare poison his Majesty's Secretary of State."

The
bluff did not impress Amber. She smiled at him. "But if someone does dare,
my lord, next week or next month you'll be as dead as herring—"

"Suppose
I give you the money. How do I know you won't let the plot—if there is one—go
through anyway?"

"You
must trust me for that, sir."

The
Baron was now looking very ill-tempered. He knew that she had caught him, and
could see no way to save both his life and his money. For he dared not take the
chance. Buckingham was, he knew, at certain times and in certain moods capable
of engineering his murder without a qualm. Or if not Buckingham, some lesser
enemy— But blast this woman! Why should
she
get five thousand pound from
him! The King's wenches came by their money at scant trouble to themselves—
but it would
take him months of hard work to replace that much. He had never felt such a
bitter dislike of all females, but most particularly of the Duchess of
Ravenspur.

"I'll
see the money is delivered into your hands tomorrow. Good-night, madame. And
thank you."

"By
no means, my lord. Your life is too valuable to England. Thank you."

Buckingham's
plot was simple. The next day he brought to her a handsome fifteen-year-old boy
from the Baron's household, John Newmarch, whom Amber was to persuade to poison
his master for the sake of King and country. When Arlinton was dead Buckingham
intended to give the boy one hundred pounds, have him declared dead of
small-pox, and send him abroad to live. But the Duke had told him nothing of
all this—only that the Duchess of Ravenspur had seen and admired him and wanted
to make his acquaintance. With the precocious sophistication induced by the
Court John came eagerly, convinced he knew what she wanted. He was wrong.

Amber
plied her charms and John Newmarch agreed to the plan. But having received
Arlington's five thousand, she gave him only a harmless sleeping-potion to stir
into the Baron's sack-posset. Buckingham stopped her the next morning as she
was on her way to the Queen's apartments, and he looked both anxious and angry.

"What
did you do!" he demanded. "He's with the King at this moment!"

Amber
paused and stood face to face with him.
"Is
he?" She pretended
surprise. "Well—now that's mighty strange, isn't it?"

"Yes,
isn't it!" he repeated sarcastically. "John says he didn't so much as
touch the posset—and he drinks 'em every night! I know that, for I've had his
habits watched. Answer me, you bitch! What've you done?"

They
stood staring at each other, and neither could pretend any longer. There was
frank detestation on both their faces. When Amber answered him the words came
out slowly between her clenched teeth.

"If
you ever dare speak to me like that again, George Villiers, I tell you to your
teeth the King's going to hear some things you don't want him to know!"

She
did not wait for him to answer but turned and walked away. He hesitated a
moment longer, looking after her, then spun about on his heel and strode off in
the opposite direction. Nan watched him, her eyes wide, and then catching up
her skirts she ran after Amber.

"Lord,
man! You should've seen his face! I vow he's a devil!"

"A
devil with the pox to him! I'm not afraid of that officious sot! I've a mighty
good mind to—"

But
at that instant, as she was about to turn into her Majesty's apartments, she
saw Almsbury coming through the crowd in her direction. He was with three other
men and they were
laughing and talking together. She had not seen him since the day she had last
gone to Almsbury House, but now she stopped and waited, hoping he might give
her some news of Bruce. Corinna had been delivered of a son that same day and
she knew they were planning to sail for France as soon as she was able. Now, to
her amazement, she saw the Earl catch sight of her, turn suddenly, and
disappear down some little side corridor.

"Why!"
she cried, as hurt as though he had publicly slapped her.

But
she did not hesitate, and grabbing up her skirts she started after him, running
and dodging through the busy hall, brushing aside whoever was in her way.
Coming up behind him she caught at his arm.

"Almsbury!"

He
turned with reluctant slowness and looked down at her, but said nothing.

"What
is it?" she demanded. "Why are you running away from me?"

He
made no answer but merely gave a faint shrug of the shoulders.

"Tell
me, Almsbury, when are they going?"

"Soon.
Tomorrow, perhaps, or the next day."

"Has
he ever—" She hesitated, almost timid at asking this question, for she
could not mistake the hardness and disapproval she saw in his eyes. But
nevertheless she blurted it out. "Has he said anything to you about
me?"

A
look of disgust went across his face. "No."

"Oh,
Almsbury!" she cried imploringly, heedless of the curious glances they
were getting on every hand. "Don't
you
hate me too! I swear I've
suffered enough— You're the only friend I have! I don't know what happened to
me that day—I was out of my head. But, oh, Almsbury! I do love him! And now
he's going away and I'll never see him again! I've got to see him once more—
Won't you help me, please? I won't say a word— I just want to look at him. And
I don't know where to find him now—he never comes to Court. Oh, Almsbury! I
must
see him again!"

The
Earl set his mouth grimly and turned away. "Not with my help you
won't."

Baron
Arlington was in conference with his physicians, being treated with leeches.
But when his Grace of Buckingham was announced, all unexpected, the creatures
were hastily plucked off and, engorged with blood, tossed into the wide-necked
bottle in which they were kept. The Duke was ushered in and found his Lordship
lying in bed, propped up by pillows, with papers scattered everywhere about him
and a secretary on either side, reading letters. Buckingham, more affable than
he had been in years, bowed and smiled with that charm which he could muster
when an important occasion demanded.

"My
lord."

"Your
Grace."

At
the Baron's suggestion he took a chair next the bed, and once seated he spoke
to him in a low voice, with an air of great confidential seriousness. "I
have a matter of the gravest importance to discuss with your Lordship."

Arlington
dismissed the servants, though he knew that one or two would remain within easy
hailing distance.

"I
won't dissemble with your Lordship," continued Buckingham as soon as they
were alone. "You know, of course, that the Duchess of Ravenspur has been
for some time employed in my interests."