A Dangerous Fortune - Ken Follett [122]
“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.