A Dangerous Fortune(85)
“Yes, I saw him at Whitehaven House. You were there.”
“Ah yes, I forgot.”
“I always liked Hugh.”
But you didn’t want to marry him, Micky thought. Rachel had now been on offer in the marriage market for many years, and she was beginning to look like stale goods, he thought unkindly. Yet his instincts told him she was a deeply sexual person. Her problem was undoubtedly that she was too formidable. She frightened men off. But she must be getting desperate. Approaching thirty and still single, she would surely be wondering if she were doomed to the life of a spinster. Some women might contemplate that with equanimity, but not Rachel, Micky felt.
She was attracted to him, but then so was almost everyone, old and young, male and female. Micky liked it when rich and influential people fell for him, for it gave him power; but Rachel was nobody and her interest in him was valueless.
The Pilasters arrived and Micky turned his attention to Augusta. She was wearing a striking evening gown in deep raspberry-pink. “You look … delicious, Mrs. Pilaster,” he said in a low voice, and she smiled with pleasure. The two families chatted for a few minutes, then it was time to take their seats.
The Bodwins were in the stalls but the Pilasters had a box. As they separated, Rachel gave Micky a warm smile and said quietly: “Perhaps we will see you later, Se?or Miranda.” Her father overheard and looked disapproving as he took her arm and hurried her away, but Mrs. Bodwin smiled at Micky as they left. Mr. Bodwin doesn’t want his daughter to fall for a foreigner, Micky thought, but Mrs. Bodwin is not so choosy anymore.
He worried over his railroad loan throughout the first act. It had not occurred to him that Cordova’s primitive political setup, which had allowed the Miranda family to fight their way to wealth and power, might be seen by investors as risky. That probably meant he could not get the railroad project financed by any other bank. The only way to raise the money would be to use his inside influence with Pilasters. And the only people he might be able to influence were Edward and Augusta.
During the first interval he found himself alone in the box with Augusta for a few moments, and he tackled her immediately, knowing that she appreciated the direct approach. “When will Edward be made a partner in the bank?”
“That’s a sore point,” she said sourly. “Why do you ask?”
He told her briefly about the railroad, leaving out Papa’s long-term aim of attacking the capital. “I can’t get the money from another bank—none of them knows anything about Cordova, because I’ve kept them all away for Edward’s sake.” It was not the real reason but Augusta would not know that: she did not understand the business. “But it would be a success if Edward could push it through.”
Augusta nodded. “My husband has promised to make Edward a partner as soon as he marries,” she said.
Micky was surprised. Edward marry! The idea was startling—and yet why should it be?
Augusta went on: “We have even agreed on a bride: Emily Maple, the daughter of Deacon Maple.”
“What’s she like?”
“Pretty, young—she’s only nineteen—and sensible. Her parents approve of the match.”
She sounded about right for Edward, Micky thought: he liked pretty girls but he needed one he could dominate. “So what obstacle is there?”
Augusta frowned. “I simply don’t know. But somehow Edward never quite gets around to asking her.”
This did not surprise Micky. He could not imagine Edward’s marrying, no matter how suitable the girl. What did he have to gain from marriage? He had no desire for children. But now there was an incentive: the partnership. Even if Edward did not care about that, Micky did. “What can we do to encourage him?”
Augusta gave Micky a sharp look and said: “I have a funny feeling that he might go ahead if you were married.”
Micky looked away. That was perceptive of her. She had no idea what went on in the private rooms of Nellie’s brothel—but she had a mother’s intuition. He, too, felt that if he married first, Edward might be more willing. “Me, marry?” he said with a little laugh. Naturally he would marry, sooner or later—everyone did—but he saw no reason to do so yet.
However, if it was the price of financing the railroad …
It was not just the railroad, he reflected. One successful loan would lead to another. Countries such as Russia and Canada raised fresh loans every year on the London market—for raifroads, harbors, water supply companies and general government finance. There was no reason why Cordova should not do the same. Micky would take a commission, official or unofficial, on every penny raised; but more importantly, the money would be channeled to his family’s interests back home, making them ever richer and more powerful.
And the alternative was unthinkable. If he let his father down over this he would be never be forgiven. To avert his father’s wrath he would marry three times over.
He looked back at Augusta. They never spoke of what had happened in old Seth’s bedroom back in the September of 1873, but she could not possibly have forgotten it. It had been sex without intercourse, infidelity without adultery, something and nothing. They had both been fully clothed, it had lasted only seconds, yet it had been more passionate and moving and searingly unforgettable than anything Micky had ever done with the whores at Nellie’s brothel, and he felt sure it had been a momentous passage for Augusta too. How did she really feel about the prospect of Micky’s getting married? Half the women in London would be jealous, but it was so hard to know what Augusta felt in her heart. He decided to ask her directly. He looked into her eyes and said: “Do you want me to marry?”