Читаем Forever Amber полностью

There were times when some suppressed impatience or cruelty in the Earl crept into his attitude toward her. She took him so much for granted that it never occurred to her to wonder about the cause, though she was always very quick to take offense when it appeared.

“How do you know! He might have, now I’m a countess—if it hadn’t been for her—”

Her eyes hardened as she spoke of Corinna and her upper lip tightened stubbornly. But in a sense, she was almost glad to have Corinna as the reason and excuse for all her troubles—she could never otherwise have explained to herself or anyone else his refusal to marry her.

“Amber, my dear,” he said now, and his eyes and the tone of his voice had softened with a kind of affectionate pity. “There’s no use pretending to yourself, is there? He didn’t marry her because she’s rich and titled. Probably he wouldn’t have married her if she hadn’t been—no man in his position would—but if that was all he wanted he’d have married long ago. No, sweetheart—you might as well be honest with yourself. He loves her.”

“But he loves me too!” she cried desperately. “Oh, he does, Almsbury! You know he does!” Suddenly her voice and eyes grew wistful. “You think he loves me, don’t you?”

Almsbury smiled and reached across to take her hand. “My poor little darling. Yes, I think he does—and sometimes I almost think you’d have loved him even if he had married you.”

“Oh, of course I would!” she cried and then, half-ashamed: “Stop teasing me, Almsbury.” She glanced nervously away, feeling foolish. But all at once the words burst forth in a rush. “Oh, I do love him, Almsbury! You can’t imagine how much I love him! I’d do anything—anything in the world to get him! And I’d always love him—if I saw him every day and every night for a thousand years! Oh, you know it’s true, Almsbury—I’ve never loved another man—I never could!” Then, seeing some strange look come into his eyes, she was afraid that she had hurt him. “Oh, of course I love you, Almsbury—but in a different way—I—”

“Never mind, Amber. Don’t try to explain yourself—I know more about it than you do, anyway. You’re in love with three of us: the King, and Bruce—and me. And each one of us, I think, loves you. But you won’t get much happiness from any of it—because you want more than we’re willing to give. There’s not one of us you can get hold of the way you got hold of that poor devil of a young captain—what was his name?—or the old dotard who willed you his money. And do you want to know why? I’ll tell you. The King loves you—but no better than he’s loved a dozen other women and will one day love a dozen more. No woman on earth can hurt him, because he depends on them for nothing but physical pleasure. His sister is the only woman he really loves—but that’s neither here nor there so far as we’re concerned. Bruce loves you—but there are other things he loves more. And now there’s another woman he loves more. And last of all, darling—I love you too. But I’ve got no illusions about you. I know what you are and I don’t care—so you’ll never hurt me very much either.”

“Ye gods, Almsbury! Why should I want to hurt you—or anyone else? What the devil put that maggot into your head?”

“No woman’s ever satisfied unless she knows she can hurt the man who loves her. Come, now, be honest—it’s true, isn’t it? You’ve always thought you could make me miserable, if you ever wanted to try, haven’t you?” His eyes watched her steadily.

Amber smiled at him—the smile of a pretty woman who knows she is being admired. “Maybe I have,” she admitted at last. “Are you sure I couldn’t?”

For an instant he sat motionless, and then all at once he got to his feet; his white teeth were showing in a broad grin. “No, sweetheart, you couldn’t.” He stood and looked at her, his face serious again. “I’ll tell you one thing, though—if there’s any man on earth you could have married and been happy—it’s me.”

Amber stared at him, amazed, and then, with a little laugh, she stood up. “Almsbury! What in the devil are you talking about? If there’s one man I could have married and been happy it’s Bruce, and you know it—”

“You’re wrong about that.” But as she started to protest he began walking toward the door and she strolled along beside him. “I’ll see you in the Drawing-Room tonight—and we’ll raffle for that hundred pound you won from me yesterday.”

She laughed. “We can’t, Almsbury! I spent it this morning—for a new gown!” And then, just as he went out the door, she laughed again. “Imagine us married!”

He gave her a wave of his hand, without turning, but as he disappeared a thoughtful puzzled frown drew at her eyebrows. Almsbury and me—married. The idea had never occurred to her before. She had never wanted to be married to anyone but Bruce Carlton and it still seemed incredible that she could have been married happily to anyone else—even Almsbury. But how strange he should have said that—Almsbury, who thought no better of matrimony than did any other man of sense and wit.