Read Online Elizabeth by Evelyn Anthony - Free Book Online Page B

chattered, and fidgeted; and made timorous overtures of affection which he pretended not to notice. She had no place in his life but the nominal position as his wife, and she only saw him when he wanted something, but at least she saw him, and for that she had begun to live, expecting nothing more.
    She was waiting for him in the hall, wearing a dress of dark blue velvet which was six months behind the fashion, a collar of stiffened lawn framing her face, which was pinched and strained, and anxiously smiling. He saw her companion Mrs. Odingsell, standing in the background, the two Forsters, and another woman, Mrs. Owen, who had left her husband and attached herself to Lady Dudley. Robert kissed her cheek, greeted the others and in reply to Amy’s question he explained brusquely that he was only staying for one night, and then went up to his room to wash and change his riding clothes.
    They dined well that night; the conversation was rather forced, until Mrs. Odingsell asked questions about the Court. While Robert talked, his wife sat quietly, picking at the food on her plate, glancing up from time to time to see the animation in his face as he discussed the personalities whose names were famous, describing a ball or a brilliant masque, his eyes glittering whenever the name of the Queen was mentioned.
    â€œIs she as beautiful as they say, my Lord?”
    Robert smiled at that old harpy, Odingsell, sitting there with her mouth open like a seal, hungry for verbal scraps.
    â€œNot beautiful, no. But more fascinating than any woman alive, I should say. Handsome, handsome as the devil, the best horsewoman, the best dancer—why, the best at everything, that’s all I can tell you.”
    There was a moment of awkward silence, broken by Mrs. Owen.
    â€œWhy, you’ve eaten nothing, my Lady! Try some of the chicken pasty—it’s really excellent.”
    â€œNo thank you,” Amy smiled up at the plain, anxious face of the only real friend she had in the house. She was grateful to Beth Owen, who had repaid her shelter by countless acts of kindliness. “No, I’m not very hungry.”
    â€œWe’re well buried here, my Lord,” Mrs. Owen said aggressively. “But even we heard rumours that the Queen is about to marry a foreign Prince. Is that true?”
    â€œYou are indeed buried, if that is the latest you know.” Robert’s eyes considered his questioner with hostility. When he settled with Amy he’d make sure Madam Owen found another benefactress.…
    â€œThe Queen is besieged by suitors, and has rejected them all. And now, Madam,” he bowed to Amy, rising from the table.
    â€œI know the company will excuse us. I have travelled far and I have many things to discuss with you, and not much time. We will see you tomorrow, ladies, and you, my good Forster. We must have a word about finance before I leave. Come to me in the gallery before noon.”
    They went into the long, panelled room which had once been the Abbot’s private chamber; the August light had faded, and a big iron candle branch burnt on either side of the fireplace. As she took her place in the chair opposite to him, Dudley noticed her dress trailing in a pool of half melted wax. She had always been a bad housekeeper, useless with servants, who either cheated and defied her or doted on her for the wrong reasons, extravagant over trifles, and maddeningly forgetful. The smooth running of Cumnor was due to Forster and his wife. They were a clever, efficient couple. He could trust Forster with anything.
    She did not open the conversation. He had shown temper with Beth Owen, and she knew he was still irritated. While she sat there, Dudley watched her for a moment. She was always so nervous, he thought contemptuously. She moistened her lips and kept looking quickly at him and then away, and twisting her chain of pearls round and round her fingers. It would have been so much easier if she showed a little