“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.”