Winsor, Kathleen (65 page)

"Imagine!"
cried Jemima delightedly. "Mr. Sidney saying that after meeting me the day
seemed hotter than ever!" She giggled and sipped her drink. "I vow
I've never seen such handsome men-—at least not in a great while. And the other
one, Colonel Hamilton, is my Lady Castlemaine's lover, isn't he?" She felt
flattered to have been looked at admiringly by a gentleman her Ladyship loved.
Barbara's notoriety was now so extensive that she had become a kind of myth,
known even to innocent and sheltered girls like Jemima.

"That's
the gossip," said Amber lazily.

"Of
course I know you were right to tell them we couldn't go—and yet they seemed so
fine, and so genteel and well-bred. I vow we'd all have been mighty
merry."

Amber
exchanged a sly glance with Nan, who was across the room behind Jemima. "No
doubt," she agreed and got up to begin undressing. The Dangerfields
entertained a great deal— more than ever since Samuel was so eager to display
his lovely
young wife—and it Was her chief diversion to change one beautiful gown for
another.

"You
know," said Jemima now, not watching her stepmother but staring
reflectively down into her glass. "I think it would be a mighty fine thing
to have a lover—if he was a gentleman, I mean. I hate common fellows! All the
Court ladies have lovers, don't they?"

"Oh,
some of 'em do, I suppose. But to tell you the truth, Jemima, I don't think
Lettice would like to hear you talk that way."

"Much
I care what Lettice would like! What does she know about things like that? The
only man she ever knew was John Beckford—and she married him! But you're
different. You know everything—and I can talk to you because you won't tell me
I'm wanton. Husbands are always such dull fellows—the gentlemen never seem to
get married, do they?"

"Not
while they can get—not while they can help it," amended Amber.

"Why
not? Why don't they?"

"Oh,"
she shrugged into a dressing-gown, "they say they'll lose their
reputations as men of wit. But come, Jemima, you don't really mean all this. I
thought that you were going to marry Joseph Cuttle."

Jemima
made a violent face. "Joseph Cuttle! You should see him! Don't you
remember—He was here last Wednesday. He's got teeth that stick out and skinny
legs and pimples all over his face! I hate him! I won't marry him! I don't care
what they say! I won't!"

"Well—"
said Amber soothingly. "I don't think your father will make you marry a
man you hate."

"He
says I have to marry him! They've been planning it for years. But, oh, I don't
want to! Amber!" she cried suddenly, and rushed to kneel before her where
she sat in her dressing-gown, stroking a great purring tortoise-shell cat.
"Father will do anything you say!
You
make him promise I don't have
to marry Joseph Cuttle, will you?
Will
you, Amber, please?"

"Oh,
Jemima," protested Amber, "you mustn't say such things! Your father
doesn't do what I tell him to, at all." She knew that even Samuel would
not want his family to think he was hen-pecked. "But I'll speak to him
about it for you—"

"Oh,
if only you would! Because I won't marry him! I can't! I'm— Do you want to know
something, Amber? I'm in love!"

Amber
seemed duly impressed, and asked the expected question. "How fine. Is he
handsome?"

"Oh,"
breathed Jemima fervently. "The handsomest man I've ever seen! He's tall
and his hair's black and his eyes—I forget what colour they are, but when he
looks at me I get such a queer feeling right here. Oh, Amber, he's wonderful!
He's everything in the world that I admire!"

"Hey
day!" said Amber. "Where's this wonder to be seen?" Jemima grew
wistful at that. "Not here—not in London. At
least not now—but I hope he'll
be back one day soon. I've been waiting for him for thirteen months and a
week—and I'll never love another man till he returns."

Amber
was amused, for Jemima's enthusiasm seemed quite childish to her, considering
that the girl did not guess what the primary business of love was about. Naive
kisses and queer feelings were the limit of her experience. "Well, Jemima,
I hope he comes back to you. Does he know you're waiting?"

"Oh,
no. I suppose he scarce knows I'm alive. I've only seen him twice—he was here
one night for supper and another time I went down with Sam and Bob to see his
ships, just before he sailed for America."

"Sailed
for America! Who is this man! What's his name!"

Jemima
looked at her in surprise. "If I tell you will you promise not to tell a
soul? They'd all laugh at me. He's a nobleman—Lord Carlton—Oh! What's the
matter? Do
you
know him?"

It
was like a smack in the face with cold water, rude and shocking, and it made
her angry because it scared her. But why should it? she thought, annoyed by her
own uneasy lack of confidence. This girl can't mean anything to him—Why, she's
just a child. Besides, she's not half as pretty as I am—Or is she? Amber's eyes
were going swiftly over her stepdaughter's face—seeing there now a threat to
her own happiness. Don't be such a fool! she told herself wrathfully. Do you
want her to guess—Only seconds had passed before she managed to answer, with a
show of casualness:

"Why,
I think I met him once at the Theatre. But how d'you come to be entertaining a
lord and visiting his ships?"

"He
does some business with Father—I don't know just what."

Amber
lifted her eyebrows. "Samuel doing business with a pirate?"

"But
he's not a pirate! He's a privateer—and there's a world of difference between 'em.
It's the privateers we have to thank for keeping England on the seas—his
Majesty's navy won't doit!"

"You
talk like a merchant yourself, Jemima," said Amber tartly, but brought
herself up with another quick warning. "Well—" She contrived a smile.
"So you're in love with a nobleman. Then I hope for your sake he'll come
back to England soon."

"Oh,
I hope so too! I'd give anything to see him again! D'you know—" she said
with sudden confiding shyness, "last Halowe'en Anne and Jane and I baked a
dumb-cake. Anne dreamed that night about William Twopeny—and now she's married
to him! And
I
dreamed about Lord Carlton! Oh, Amber, do you think he
could ever fall in love with me? Do you think he'd ever marry me?"

"Why
not!" snapped Amber. "You should have a big enough dowry!" The
instant she heard the words she was furious with
herself and quickly added,
"That's what men always think about, you know."

In
less than an hour she broke her promise to Jemima, for Samuel came in and she
could not resist the temptation to speak to him of Bruce, though she began by
saying innocently, "I heard today in the 'Change that the Dutch have told
his Majesty their fleet is only to defend their fishing trade, and that he's
angry they should think he's stupid enough to believe it."

Samuel,
who was putting off his outer clothes, laughed at that. "What a ridiculous
lie! The Dutch fleet is for just one purpose—to run England off the seas.
They've captured our ships, beaten our men in the East Indies, hung the St.
George under their own flag, granted letters-of-marque against us, and done
everything but dare us to fight them."

"But
we've been granting letters against them too, ever since the King came back,
haven't we?"

"If
we have it's not supposed to be known—the letters were mostly against the
Spanish, though I don't doubt that Dutchmen have been stopped too. Which is no
better than they deserve. But how does it happen you know so much of our
politics, my dear?" He seemed tenderly amused to hear his wife discussing
serious matters.

"I've
been talking to Jemima."

"To
Jemima? Well, I suppose she has the latest news at her finger-tips."

"When
it concerns privateers she does. She says you do business with 'em."

"I
do, with three or four. But I never knew Jemima to be very much interested in
my business affairs." He smiled as he stood before her, hands in his
pockets while his eyes ran over her admiringly.

"It
isn't your business she's interested in so much as the privateers."

"Oh,
so that's it, is it? The little minx. Well—I suppose she thinks she's in love
with Lord Carlton."

"How
did you guess?"

"It
wasn't very difficult. He was here for supper once about a year ago. She could
hardly eat a bite and talked about nothing else for days. Well, she'd better
get him out of her head."

"She
says she's waiting for him to come back."

"Nonsense!
He doesn't know she's on earth! His family's one of the oldest in England and
he's made himself enormously rich privateering. He's not interested in marrying
some upstart merchant's daughter."

Samuel
had no illusions about his social relationship to the aristocracy. His family
was a new one, just come into power and wealth during the last two generations,
and he had no snobbish ambition to buy his way into the peerage—as some men he
knew were doing—at the price of his own self-respect.

"I
wouldn't want her to
marry
Lord Carlton if he'd have her. As a man, I like and admire him, but as a
husband for my daughter—I wouldn't consider it even if he wanted to marry her,
which I know he doesn't. No, Jemima's going to marry Joseph Cuttle and she may
as well get such ridiculous notions out of her head. The Cuttles and I have
done business together for years and it's a suitable marriage for her in every
respect. I'll speak to her directly about such nonsense."

"Oh,
please, Samuel—don't do that! I promised her I wouldn't tell you. But of course
I thought you should know. Why not let me talk to her?"

"I
wish you would, my dear. She has more respect for your opinion than for
anyone's." He smiled and offered her his arm. "I don't want to force
her, and yet I know that it
's best for her and for all of us. The boy is young,
but he's very fond of her and is a quiet hard-working lad, exactly the kind of
man she should marry."

"Of
course she should! But young girls have such silly ideas about men—" They
started out of the room and Amber asked casually, "By the way, Samuel,
is Lord Carlton
coming to London soon?"

"I
don't know. Why?"

"Oh,
I was only thinking that the contract should be signed before she sees him
again—or heaven only knows what foolishness she might do."

"That's
a very good idea, my dear. I'll see the lawyers tomorrow. It's kind of you to
take an interest in my family."

Amber
smiled modestly.

Joseph
Cuttle was among the guests they had that night and though Amber had met him before
she had not remembered him. He was a tall awkward boy, eighteen years old, with
a face which looked unfinished. His manners were clumsy and embarrassed, as
though he always wished that he might run away and hide. It was almost
ridiculous to think of dainty effervescent little Jemima married to so gauche a
creature.

But
Amber sought him out and though at first he was desperately uncomfortable she
succeeded so well in putting him at his ease that presently he was confiding
his troubles to her and begging her to help him. She promised that she would
and hinted that Jemima liked him much better than she seemed to but that
shyness kept her from showing her feelings. Once she caught Jemima's eyes on
her, surprised and hurt and accusing. It was not long before Jemima, pleading
that she had a headache, left the company and went upstairs to her own
apartments.

She
rushed into Amber's room early the next morning, while Amber lay drowsily sunk
in her feather-mattress, contemplating the tufted satin lining of the tester
over her head. She was indulging, as she often did when not quite awake, in a
sensual reverie, half memory, half wishful imagining, about herself and Bruce
Carlton. She had long since forgiven him for Captain Morgan's death and did not
doubt that he had likewise
forgiven her. And, since Jemima had talked about
him, she felt that he was closer than he had been, that perhaps she would see
him again before so very long. Now Jemima's appearance jerked her rudely from
her voluptuous musing.

"Heavens,
Jemima! What's the matter?" She half sat up.

"Amber!
How could you be so civil to that nasty Joseph Cuttle last night!"

"I
don't think he's nasty at all, Jemima. He's a good kind-hearted young man, and
he adores you."

"I
don't care! He's ugly and he's a fool—and
I
hate
him!
And you
promised you'd help me!" All at once she began to cry.

"Don't
cry, Jemima," said Amber, rather crossly. "I'll help you if I can.
But your father told me to talk to him, and I couldn't very well refuse."

"You
could if you wanted to!" insisted Jemima, wiping the tears from her face.
"Lettice says you make him do anything you want—like a tame monkey!"

Amber
repressed a burst of laughter at this, but said severely, "Well, Lettice
is wrong! And you'd better not say things like that, Jemima! But make yourself
easy—I'll help you all I can."