5
AS SOON AS AUGUSTA SAW THE NAKED GIRL she sensed that this was her chance to get rid of Hugh once and for all.
She recognized her immediately. This was the trollop who had insulted her in the park, the one they called the Lioness. The thought had crossed her mind even then that this little minx might one day get Hugh into serious trouble: there was something arrogant and uncompromising in the set of her head and the light in her eyes. Even now, when she ought to be mortified by shame, she stood there, stark naked, and stared back at Augusta coolly. She had a magnificent body, small but shapely, with plump white breasts and a riot of sand-colored hair at her groin. Her look was so haughty that she almost made Augusta feel like the intruder. But she would be the downfall of Hugh.
The outlines of a plan were forming in Augusta’s mind when suddenly she saw Edward lying on the floor with blood all over his face.
All her old fears rose up in force, and she was taken back twenty-three years, to when he had nearly died as a baby. Blind panic swamped her. “Teddy!” she screamed. “What’s happened to Teddy!” She fell to her knees beside him. “Speak to me, speak to me!” she yelled. She was possessed by an unbearable dread, just as she had been when her baby kept getting thinner and thinner every day and the doctors could not understand why.
Edward sat up and groaned.
“Say something!” she pleaded.
“Don’t call me Teddy,” he said.
Her terror eased a fraction. He was conscious and could speak. But his voice was thick and his nose looked out of shape. “What happened?” she said.
“I caught Hugh with his whore, and he just went mad!” Edward said.
Forcing down her rage and fear, she reached out gently and touched Edward’s nose. He gave a loud yelp, but permitted her to press delicately. There was nothing broken, she thought; it was just swelling up.
She heard her husband’s voice say: “What the deuce is going on?”
She stood up. “Hugh has attacked Edward,” she said.
“Is the boy all right?”
“I think so.”
Joseph turned to Hugh. “Damnation, sir, what do you mean by it?”
“The silly fool asked for it,” Hugh said defiantly.
That’s right, Hugh, make it worse, Augusta thought. Whatever you do, don’t apologize. I want your uncle to stay angry with you.
However, Joseph’s attention was torn between the boys and the woman, and his eyes kept switching to her naked body. Augusta felt a stab of jealousy.
That made her calmer. There was nothing much wrong with Edward. She began to think rapidly. How could she best exploit this situation? Hugh was totally vulnerable now: she could do anything to him. She thought immediately of her conversation with Micky Miranda. Hugh had to be silenced, for he knew too much about the death of Peter Middleton. Now was the moment to strike.
First she had to separate him from the girl.
Some servants had appeared in their nightclothes and were hovering in the doorway that led to the back stairs, looking aghast but fascinated by the scene on the landing. Augusta saw her butler, Hastead, in a yellow silk dressing gown that Joseph had discarded some years ago, and Williams, a footman, in a striped nightshirt. “Hastead and Williams, help Mr. Edward to his bed, will you?” The two men bustled forward and got Teddy to his feet.
Next Augusta spoke to her housekeeper. “Mrs. Merton, cover this girl with a sheet, or something, and take her to my room and get her dressed.” Mrs. Merton took off her own dressing gown and draped it around the girl’s shoulders. She pulled it closed over her nakedness but made no move to leave.
Augusta said: “Hugh, run to Dr. Humbold’s house in Church Street: he’d better have a look at poor Edward’s nose.”
“I’m not leaving Maisie,” Hugh said.
Augusta said sharply: “Since you’ve done the damage, it’s the least you can do to fetch a doctor!”
Maisie said: “I’ll be all right, Hugh. Fetch the doctor. I’ll be here when you get back.”
Still Hugh stood his ground.
Mrs. Merton said: “This way, please,” and indicated the back stairs.
Maisie said: “Oh, I think we’ll use the main staircase.” Then, walking like a queen, she crossed the landing and went down the stairs. Mrs. Merton followed.
Augusta said: “Hugh?”
He was still reluctant to go, she could see, but on the other hand he could think of no good reason to refuse. After a moment he said: “I’ll put my boots on.”
Augusta concealed her relief. She had separated them. Now, if her luck held, she would be able to seal Hugh’s fate. She turned to her husband. “Come. Let’s go to your room and discuss this.”
They went down the stairs and entered his bedroom. As soon as the door was closed Joseph took her in his arms and kissed her. She realized he wanted to make love.
That was unusual. They made love once or twice a week, but she was always the initiator: she would go to his room and get into his bed. She saw it as part of her wifely duty to keep him satisfied, but she liked to be in control, so she discouraged him from coming to her room. When they were first married he had been harder to restrain. He had insisted on taking her whenever he wanted, and for a while she had been obliged to let him have his way; but eventually he had come round to her way of thinking. Then, for a while, he had bothered her with unseemly suggestions, such as that they should make love with the light on, that she should lie on top of him, and even that she should do unspeakable things to him with her mouth. But she had firmly resisted and he had long ago ceased to express such ideas.
Now, however, he was breaking the pattern. She knew why. He had been inflamed by the sight of Maisie’s naked body, those firm young breasts and that bush of sandy hair. The thought left a bad taste in her mouth, and she pushed him away.
He looked resentful. She wanted him angry with Hugh, not with her, so she touched his arm in a conciliatory gesture. “Later,” she said. “I’ll come to you later.”
He accepted that. “There’s bad blood in Hugh,” he said. “He gets it from my brother.”
“He can’t continue to live here after this,” Augusta said in a tone that did not invite discussion.
Joseph was not disposed to argue that point. “Indeed not.”
“You must discharge him from the bank,” she went on.
Joseph looked mulish. “I beg you not to make announcements about what should happen at the bank.”
“Joseph, he has just insulted you by bringing into the house an unfortunate woman,” she said, using the euphemism for prostitute.
Joseph went and sat at his writing table. “I know what he’s done. I merely ask that you keep what happens in the house separate from what happens at the bank.”
She decided to retreat for a moment. “Very well. I’m sure you know best.”
It always deflated him when she gave in unexpectedly. “I suppose I had better discharge him,” he said after a moment. “I imagine he will go back to his mother in Folkestone.”
Augusta was not sure about that. She had not yet worked out her strategy: she was thinking on her feet. “What would he do for work?”
“I don’t know.”
Augusta saw she had made a mistake. Hugh would be even more dangerous if he were unemployed, resentful and knocking around with nothing to do. David Middleton had not yet approached him—possibly Middleton had not yet learned that Hugh had been at the swimming hole on the fateful day—but sooner or later he would. She became flustered, wishing she had thought more before insisting Hugh should be dismissed. She felt exasperated with herself.
Could she to make Joseph change his mind back again?
She had to try. “Perhaps we’re being harsh,” she said.
He raised his eyebrows, surprised at this sudden display of mercy.
Augusta went on: “Well, you keep saying that he has a great deal of potential as a banker. Perhaps it’s unwise to throw that away.”
Joseph became annoyed. “Augusta, do make up your mind what you want!”
She sat down on a low chair near his desk. She let her nightdress ride up and stretched out her legs. She still had good legs. He looked at them and his expression softened.
While he was distracted she racked her brains. Suddenly she was inspired. “Send him abroad,” she said.
“Eh?”
The more she thought of the idea, the better she liked it. He would be out of reach of David Middleton, but still within her sphere of influence. “The Far East, or South America,” she went on, warming to her theme. “Someplace where his bad behavior will not reflect directly on my house.”
Joseph forgot his irritation with her. “It’s not a bad idea,” he said reflectively. “There’s an opening in the United States. The old boy who runs our Boston office needs an assistant.”
America would be perfect, Augusta thought. She was pleased with her own brilliance.
But at the moment Joseph was only toying with the idea. She wanted him to commit himself to it. “Let Hugh go as soon as possible,” she said. “I don’t want him in the house another day.”
“He can book his passage in the morning,” Joseph said. “After that there is no reason for him to stay in London. He can go down to Folkestone to say good-bye to his mother, and stay there until his ship sails.”
And he won’t see David Middleton for years, Augusta thought with satisfaction. “Splendid. It’s settled, then.” Were there any other snags? She remembered Maisie. Did Hugh care for her? It seemed unlikely, but anything was possible. He might refuse to be parted from her. It was a loose end, and it worried Augusta. Hugh could not possibly take a trollop to Boston with him, but on the other hand he might refuse to leave London without her. Augusta wondered if she could nip the romance in the bud, just as a precaution.
She stood up and moved to the door that communicated with her bedroom. Joseph looked disappointed. “I must get rid of that girl,” she said.
“Anything I can do?”
The question surprised her. It was not liked him to make generalized offers of help. He wanted another look at the whore, she thought sourly. She shook her head. “I’ll come back. Get into bed.”
“Very well,” he said reluctantly.
She went into her own room and closed the door firmly behind her.
Maisie was clothed again and pinning her hat to her hair. Mrs. Merton was folding up a rather flashy blue-green gown and cramming it into a cheap bag. “I’ve loaned her a dress of mine, as hers is soaked, mum,” said the housekeeper.
That answered a little question that had been nagging Augusta. She had thought it was unlike Hugh to do something as blatantly stupid as to bring home a whore. Now she saw how it had come about. They had been caught in the sudden storm, and Hugh had brought the woman inside to get dry, then one thing had led to another.
“What is your name?” she said to the girl.
“Maisie Robinson. I know yours.”
Augusta found that she loathed Maisie Robinson. She was not sure why: the girl was hardly worthy of such strong feelings. It had something to do with the way she had looked when naked: so proud, so voluptuous, so independent. “I suppose you want money,” Augusta said disdainfully.
“You hypocritical cow,” Maisie said. “You didn’t marry that rich, ugly husband of yours for love.”
It was the truth, and the words took Augusta’s breath away. She had underestimated this young woman. She had made a bad beginning, and now she had to dig herself out of the hole. From now on she must handle Maisie carefully. This was a providential opportunity, and she must not waste it.
She swallowed hard and forced herself to sound neutral. “Will you sit down for a moment?” She indicated a chair.
Maisie looked surprised, but after a moment’s hesitation she took a seat.
Augusta sat opposite her.
The girl had to be made to give Hugh up. She had been scornful when Augusta had hinted at a bribe, and Augusta was reluctant to repeat the offer: she sensed that money would not work with this girl. But she was clearly not the type to be bullied either.
Augusta would have to make her believe that separation would be the best thing for both Maisie and Hugh. It would work best if Maisie thought that giving Hugh up was her own idea. And that might be best achieved by Augusta arguing the opposite. Now, there was a good notion….
Augusta said: “If you want to marry him, I can’t stop you.” The girl looked surprised, and Augusta congratulated herself on having caught her off guard.
“What makes you think I want to marry him?” Maisie said.
Augusta almost laughed. She wanted to say The fact that you’re a scheming little gold digger, but instead she said: “What girl wouldn’t want to marry him? He’s personable and good-looking and he comes from a great family. He has no money, but his prospects are excellent.”
Maisie narrowed her eyes and said: “It almost sounds as if you want me to marry him.”
Augusta intended to give exactly that impression, but she had to tread delicately. Maisie was suspicious and seemed too bright to be easily hoodwinked. “Let’s not be fanciful, Maisie,” she said. “Forgive me for saying so, but no woman of my class would wish a man of her family to marry quite so far below him.”
Maisie showed no resentment. “She might if she hated him enough.”
Feeling encouraged, Augusta continued to lead her on. “But I don’t hate Hugh,” she said. “Whatever gave you that idea?”
“He did. He told me you treat him as a poor relation and make sure everyone else does the same.”
“How ungrateful people can be. But why would I wish to ruin his career?”
“Because he shows up that ass of a son of yours, Edward.”
A wave of anger engulfed Augusta. Once again Maisie had come uncomfortably close to the truth. It was true that Edward lacked Hugh’s low cunning, but Edward was a fine, sweet young man and Hugh was ill-bred. “I think you had better not mention the name of my son,” Augusta said in a low voice.
Maisie grinned. “I seem to have touched a sore place.” She immediately became grave again. “So that’s your game. Well, I won’t play it.”
“What do you mean?” said Augusta.
Suddenly there were tears in Maisie’s eyes. “I like Hugh too much to ruin him.”
Augusta was surprised and pleased by the strength of Maisie’s passion. This was working out perfectly, despite the bad beginning. “What are you going to do?” Augusta asked.
Maisie struggled not to cry. “I shan’t see him anymore. You may yet destroy him, but you won’t have my help.”
“He might come after you.”
“I shall disappear. He doesn’t know where I live. I’ll stay away from the places where he might look for me.”
A good plan, Augusta thought; you’ll only need to keep it up for a short while, then he will go abroad and be away for years, perhaps forever. But she said nothing. She had led Maisie to the obvious conclusion and now the girl needed no further help.
Maisie wiped her face on her sleeve. “I’d better go now, before he comes back with the doctor.” She stood up. “Thank you for lending me your dress, Mrs. Merton.”
The housekeeper opened the door for her. “I’ll show you out.”
“We’ll take the back stairs this time, please,” Maisie said. “I don’t want—” She stopped, swallowed hard, and said in a near-whisper: “I don’t want to see Hugh again.”
Then she went out.
Mrs. Merton followed and closed the door.
Augusta let out a long breath. She had done it. She had stunted Hugh’s career, neutralized Maisie Robinson, and averted the danger from David Middleton, all in one night. Maisie had been a formidable opponent, but in the end she had proved too emotional.
Augusta savored her triumph for a few moments then went to Edward’s room.
He was sitting up in bed, sipping brandy from a goblet. His nose was bruised and there was dried blood around it, and he looked somewhat sorry for himself. “My poor boy,” Augusta said. She went to his nightstand and damped a corner of a towel, then sat on the edge of the bed and wiped the blood from his upper lip. He winced. “Sorry!” she said.
He gave her a smile. “That’s all right, Mother,” he said. “Do carry on. It’s very soothing.”
While she was washing him Dr. Humbold came in, closely followed by Hugh. “Have you been fighting, young man?” the doctor said cheerily.
Augusta took exception to that suggestion. “He certainly has not,” she said crossly. “He has been attacked.”
Humbold was crushed. “Quite so, quite so,” he muttered.
Hugh said: “Where’s Maisie?”
Augusta did not want to talk about Maisie in front of the doctor. She stood up and took Hugh outside. “She left.”
“Did you send her away?” he demanded.
Augusta was inclined to tell him not to speak to her in that tone of voice, but she decided there was nothing to be gained by angering him: her victory over him was already total, though he did not know it. She said in a conciliatory tone: “If I had thrown her out, do you not think she would have been waiting in the street to tell you so? No, she left of her own accord, and she said she would write to you tomorrow.”
“But she said she would still be here when I got back with the doctor.”
“Then she changed her mind. Have you never known a girl of her age to do that?”
Hugh looked bewildered, but he did not know what to say next.
Augusta added: “No doubt she wished to extricate herself as quickly as possible from the embarrassing position in which you had put her.”
That seemed to make sense to him. “I suppose you made her feel so uncomfortable that she couldn’t bear to remain in the house.”
“That will do,” she said severely. “I don’t wish to hear your opinions. Your uncle Joseph will see you first thing in the morning, before you leave for the bank. Now good night.”
For a moment it seemed as if he would argue. However, there was really nothing for him to say. “Very well,” he muttered at last. He turned into his room.
Augusta went back into Edward’s room. The doctor was closing his bag. “No real damage,” he said. “His nose will feel tender for a few days, and he may have a black eye tomorrow; but he’s young, and he’ll soon heal.”
“Thank you, Doctor. Hastead will see you out.”
“Good night.”
Augusta bent over the bed and kissed Edward. “Good night, dear Teddy. Go to sleep, now.”
“Very well, Mother dear. Good night.”
She had one more task to perform.
She went down the stairs and entered Joseph’s room. She was hoping he would have gone to sleep waiting for her, but he was sitting up in bed, reading the Pall Mall Gazette. He put it aside immediately and lifted the covers to let her in.
He embraced her immediately. It was quite light in the room: dawn had broken without her noticing it. She closed her eyes.
He entered her quickly. She put her arms around him and responded to his movements. She thought of herself when she was sixteen, lying on a riverbank in a raspberry-pink dress and a straw hat, being kissed by the young earl of Strang; only in her mind he did not stop at kissing her, but lifted her skirts and made love to her in the hot sunshine, with the river lapping at their feet….
When it was over she lay beside Joseph for a while, reflecting on her victory.
“Extraordinary night,” he murmured sleepily.
“Yes,” she said. “That awful girl.”
“Mmm,” he grunted. “Very striking-looking … arrogant and willful … thinks she’s as good as anyone … lovely figure … just like you at that age.”
Augusta was mortally offended. “Joseph!” she said. “How could you say such an awful thing?”
He made no reply, and she saw that he was asleep.
Enraged, she threw back the covers, got out of bed and stamped out of the room.
She did not go back to sleep that night.