dared to speak to her this way.
Maisie did not give her time to recover. Turning back to Hugh, she said: “Tell your cousin Edward he should buy my ponies!” Then she cracked her whip and drove away.
Augusta erupted. “How dare you expose me to such a person!” She boiled. “How dare you take off your hat to her!”
Hugh was staring after Maisie, watching her neat back and jaunty hat recede along the drive.
Aunt Madeleine joined in. “How can you possibly know her, Hugh?” she said. “No well-bred young man would be acquainted with that type! And it seems you have even introduced her to Edward!”
It was Edward who had introduced Maisie to Hugh, but Hugh was not going to try to put the blame on Edward. They would not have believed him anyway. “I don’t actually know her very well,” he said.
Clementine was intrigued. “Where on earth did you meet her?”
“A place called the Argyll Rooms.”
Augusta frowned at Clementine and said: “I don’t wish to know such things. Hugh, tell Baxter to drive home.”
Hugh said: “I’m going to walk for a while.” He opened the door of the carriage.
“You’re going after that woman!” Augusta said. “I forbid it!”
“Drive on, Baxter,” said Hugh as he stepped down. The coachman shook the reins, the wheels turned, and Hugh politely doffed his hat as his angry aunts were driven away.
He had not heard the last of this. There would be more trouble later. Uncle Joseph would be told, and soon all the partners would know that Hugh consorted with low women.
But it was a holiday, the sun was shining, and the park was full of people enjoying themselves, and Hugh could not get worried about his aunt’s rage today.
He felt lighthearted as he strode along the path. He headed in the direction opposite to that Maisie had taken. People drove around in circles, so he might run into her again.
He was keen to talk to her more. He wanted to set her straight about his father. Oddly enough he no longer felt angry with her about what she had said. She was simply mistaken, he thought, and she would understand if it was explained to her. Anyway, just talking to her was exciting.
He reached Hyde Park Corner and turned north along Park Lane. He doffed his hat to numerous relations and acquaintances: Young William and Beatrice in a brougham, Uncle Samuel on a chestnut mare, Mr. Mulberry with his wife and children. Maisie might have stopped on the far side, or she might have left by now. He began to feel that he would not see her again.
But he did.
She was just leaving, crossing Park Lane. It was undoubtedly her, with that mushroom-colored silk tie at her throat. She did not see him.
On impulse he followed her across the road, into Mayfair, and down a mews, running to keep up with her. She pulled the victoria up to a stable and jumped down. A groom came out and began to help her with the horses.
Hugh came up beside her, breathing hard. He wondered why he had done this. “Hello, Miss Robinson,” he said.
“Hello again!”
“I followed you,” he said superfluously.
She gave him a frank look. “Why?”
Without thinking he blurted out: “I was wondering if you would go out with me one night.”
She put her head to one side and frowned slightly, considering his proposal. Her expression was friendly, as if she liked the idea, and he thought she would accept. But it seemed some practical consideration was at war with her inclinations. She looked away from him, and a little frown appeared on her brow; then she appeared to make up her mind. “You can’t afford me,” she said decisively; and she turned her back on him and walked into the stable.
Hugh put down Albert Cammel’s letter and stared out of his bedroom window. The letter explained both more and less than Cammel imagined.
It explained how Micky Miranda had insinuated himself into the Pilaster family to such an extent that he spent every vacation with Edward and had all his expenses paid by Edward’s parents. No doubt Micky had told Augusta that Edward had virtually killed Peter. But in court Micky said Edward had tried to rescue the drowning boy. And in telling that lie Micky had saved the Pilasters from public disgrace. Augusta would have been powerfully grateful — and perhaps, also, fearful that Micky might one day turn against them and reveal the truth. It gave Hugh a cold, rather scared feeling in the pit of his stomach. Albert Cammel, all unknowing, had revealed that Augusta’s relationship with Micky was deep, dark and corrupt.
But another puzzle remained. For Hugh knew something about Peter Middleton that almost no one else was aware of. Peter had been something of a weakling, and all the boys treated him as a weed. Embarrassed about his weakness, he had embarked on a training program — and his main exercise was swimming. He stroked across that
