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But still she was tormented, for those piecemeal memories could not make a whole. Somehow, he eluded her. Did he really exist, somewhere in that vastness of space outside England, or was he only a being she had imagined, built out’ of her dreams and hopes? She would throw her arms about Susanna in a passion of despair and yearning—but she could not reassure herself that way.

Yet in spite of her violent desire to see him again she had stoutly made up her mind that this time she would conduct herself with dignity and decorum. She must be a little aloof, let him make the first advances, let him come first to see her. Every woman knew that was the way to prick up a man’s interest. I’ve always made myself his servant, she chided, but this time it’s going to be different. After all, I’m a person of honour now, a duchess—and he’s but a baron. Anyway—why shouldn’t he come to me first!

She knew that his wife would be along but she did not trouble herself too much about that. For certainly Lord Carlton was not the man to be uxorious. That was well enough for the citizens, who had no better breeding, but a gentleman would no more fawn upon his wife than he would appear in public without his sword or wearing a gnarled periwig.

Lord and Lady Almsbury were back in London in July to put their house in order, hire new servants and prepare for the entertainment of their eagerly expected guests. The Earl came to see Amber and, determined to show him how nonchalant she was at the prospect of seeing Bruce, she chattered away furiously about her own affairs—her title, her great house abuilding in St. James’s Square, the people she had invited to supper for that Sunday. From time to time she asked him what he did in the country and then hurried on without letting him answer—for everyone knew there was nothing to do in the country but ride and drink and visit tenants. Almsbury sat and listened to her talk, watched her vivacious display of mannerisms and hectic charm, smiled and nodded his head—and never mentioned Bruce at all.

Amber’s conversation began to slow down. She grew perplexed and quieter, and finally—realizing that he was teasing her—she became angry. “Well!” she said at last. “What’s the news!”

“News? Why, let me think now. My black mare—the one you used to ride, remember?—foaled last week and—”

“Blast you, Almsbury! Why should you use me at this rate, I’d like to know! Tell me—what have you heard? When will he get here? Is she still coming?”

“I don’t know any more than I did last time I wrote to you—August or September. And, yes, she is coming. Why? You’re not afraid of her?”

Amber shot him a dark venomous glare. “Afraid of her!” she repeated contemptuously. “Almsbury, I swear you’ve a droll wit! Why should I be afraid of her, pray?” She paused a moment and then superciliously informed him: “I’ve got an image of her—that Corinna!”

“Have you?” he asked politely.

“Yes, I have! I know just what she’s like! A plain meek creature who wears all her gowns five years out of the style and thinks herself fit for nothing but to be her husband’s housekeeper and breed up his brats!” The portrait was a reasonably accurate one of Almsbury’s own wife. “A great show she’ll make here in London!”

“You may be right,” he admitted.

“May be right!” she cried indignantly. “What else could she be like—brought up over there in that wilderness with a pack of heathen Indians—”

At that instant a weird and raucous voice began to screech. “Thieves, God damn you! Thieves, by God! Make haste!”

Involuntarily both Amber and the Earl leaped to their feet, Amber overturning the spaniel which had settled on her skirts for a nap. “It’s my parrot!” she cried. “He’s caught a thief in there!” And she dashed toward the drawing-room with Almsbury beside her and Monsieur le Chien yapping excitedly at their heels. They flung open the door and burst in, to find that it was only the King who had strolled in unannounced and picked out an orange from a bowl of fruit. He was laughing heartily as he watched the parrot prancing on his perch and teetering back and forth, squawking frantically. It was not the first time the bird, trained to apprehend intruders, had mistaken his man.

Almsbury left then and a few days later he went back to Barberry Hill to hunt, while Emily stayed in town to welcome the guests should they arrive unexpectedly. Amber had no opportunity to discuss Corinna with him again.


For the past year she had been going three or four times a week to watch the progress on Ravenspur House.

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