encouragement is enough for him and if he is not set straight immediately he can be very embarrassing.'
Nora nodded understanding. 'Don't worry, I know how to deal with his type.'
Hugh was standing nearby talking to the duke of Kingsbridge. Now he noticed Augusta, looked suspicious, and came to his wife's side. However, Augusta had already said all she needed to say, and she turned away to watch the procession. She had done her work: the seeds were planted. Now she had to wait anxiously and hope for the best.
Passing in front of the prince were some of the Marlborough Set, including the duke and duchess of Kingsbridge and Solly and Maisie Greenbourne. They were dressed as eastern potentates, shahs and pashas and sultanas, and instead of bowing and curtsying they knelt and salaamed, which drew a laugh from the portly prince and a round of applause from the crowd. Augusta loathed Maisie Greenbourne, but she hardly noticed. Her mind was rapidly turning over possibilities. There were a hundred ways her plot could go wrong: de Tokoly could be captivated by a different pretty face, Nora might deal with him graciously, Hugh might stay too close for de Tokoly to do anything offensive. But with a little luck the drama she had plotted would be played out--and then there would be ructions.
The procession was coming to an end when, to Augusta's dismay, she saw the face of David Middleton pushing through the crowd toward her.
She had last seen him six years ago, when he had questioned her about his brother Peter's death at Windfield School, and she had told him that the two witnesses, Hugh Pilaster and Antonio Silva, had gone abroad. But now Hugh was back and here was Middleton. How had a mere lawyer got invited to such a grand occasion? She recalled vaguely that he was a distant relation of the duke of Tenbigh. She could hardly have foreseen this. It was a potential disaster. I can't think of everything! she said to herself frenziedly.
To her horror Middleton walked straight up to Hugh.
Augusta edged closer through the crush. She heard Middleton say: 'Hello, Pilaster, I heard you were back in England. Do you remember me? I'm Peter Middleton's brother.'
Augusta turned her back so that he would not notice her and strained to hear over the hum of conversation around her.
'I do remember--you were at the inquest,' Hugh said. 'Allow me to present my wife.'
'How do you do, Mrs. Pilaster,' Middleton said perfunctorily, and returned his attention to Hugh. 'I was never happy with that inquest, you know.'
Augusta went cold. Middleton had to be obsessed to bluntly bring up such an inappropriate subject in the middle of a costume ball. This was insupportable. Would poor Teddy never be free of that old suspicion?
She could not hear Hugh's reply but his tone was guardedly neutral.
Middleton's voice was louder and she picked up what he said next. 'You must know that the whole school disbelieved Edward's story about trying to rescue my brother from drowning.'
Augusta was taut with fear of what Hugh might say, but he continued to be circumspect, and said something about its having taken place a long time ago.
Suddenly Micky was at Augusta's side. His face was a mask of relaxed urbanity but she could see the tension in the set of his shoulders. 'Is that the Middleton fellow?' he murmured in her ear.
She nodded.
'I thought I recognized him.'
'Hush, listen,' she said.
Middleton had become slightly aggressive. 'I think you know the truth about what happened,' he said in a challenging voice.
'Do you, indeed?' Hugh grew audible as his tone became less friendly.
'Forgive me for being so blunt, Pilaster. He was my brother. For years I've wondered what happened. Don't you think I've a right to know?'
There was a pause. Augusta knew that such an appeal to the rights and wrongs of the case was just the kind of thing to move the sanctimonious Hugh. She wanted to intervene, to shut them up or change the subject or break up the group, but that would be tantamount to a confession that she had something to hide; so she stood helpless and terrified, rooted to the spot, straining her ears to hear over the murmur of the crowd.
At last Hugh replied. 'I didn't see Peter die, Middleton. I can't tell you what happened. I don't know for certain, and it would be wrong to speculate.'
'You have your suspicions, then? You can guess how it happened?'
'There's no room for guesswork in a case such as this. It would be irresponsible. You want the truth, you say. I'm all for that. If I knew the truth I'd consider myself duty-bound to tell it. But I don't.'
'I think you're protecting your cousin.'
Hugh was offended. 'Damn it, Middleton, that's too strong. You're entitled to be upset, but don't cast doubt on my honesty.'
'Well, somebody's lying,' Middleton said rudely, and with that he went away.
Augusta breathed again. Relief made her weak at the knees and she surreptitiously leaned on Micky for support. Hugh's precious principles had worked in her favor. He suspected that Edward had contributed to the death of Peter, but because it was only a suspicion he would not say it. And now Middleton had put Hugh's back up. It was the mark of a gentleman never to tell a lie, and for young men such as Hugh the suggestion that they might not be speaking the truth was a serious insult. Middleton and Hugh were not likely to talk further.
The crisis had blown up suddenly, like a summer storm, scaring her badly; but it had vanished just as fast, leaving her feeling battered but safe.
The procession ended. The band struck up a quadrille. The prince led the duchess onto the floor, and the duke took the princess, to make the first foursome. Other groups rapidly followed suit. The dancing was rather sedate, probably because so many people were wearing heavy costumes and cumbersome headdresses.
Augusta said to Micky: 'Perhaps Mr. Middleton is no longer a danger to us.'
'Not if Hugh continues to keep his mouth shut.'
'And so long as your friend Silva stays in Cordova.'
'His family has less and less influence as the years go by. I don't expect to see him in Europe again.'
'Good.' Augusta's mind reverted to her plot. 'Did you speak to de Tokoly?'
'I did.'
'Good.'
'I just hope you know what you're doing.'
She gave him a reproving look.
'How foolish of me,' he said. 'You always know what you're doing.'
