A Dangerous Fortune by Ken Follett Read Free Book Online Page B

the time he thought about girls.
    He stepped out of the drawing room onto the terrace and saw Augusta bearing down on him with a girl in tow.
    “Dear Hugh,” she said, “here’s your friend Miss Bodwin.”
    Hugh groaned inwardly. Rachel Bodwin was a tall, intellectual girl of radical opinions. She was not pretty—she had dull brown hair and light eyes set rather close together—but she was lively and interesting, full of subversive ideas, and Hugh had liked her a lot when he first came to London to work at the bank. But Augusta had decided he should marry Rachel, and that had ruined the relationship. Before that they had argued fiercely and freely about divorce, religion, poverty and votes for women. Since Augusta had begun her campaign to bring them together, they just stood and exchanged awkward chitchat.
    “How lovely you look, Miss Bodwin,” he said automatically.
    “You’re very kind,” she replied in a bored tone.
    Augusta was turning away when she caught sight of Hugh’s tie. “Heavens!” she exclaimed. “What is that? You look like an innkeeper!”
    Hugh blushed crimson. If he could have thought of a sharp rejoinder he would have risked it, but nothing came to mind, and all he could do was mutter: “It’s just a new tie. It’s called an ascot.”
    “You shall give it to the bootboy tomorrow,” she said, and she turned away.
    Resentment flared in Hugh’s breast against the fate that forced him to live with his overbearing aunt. “Women ought not to comment on a man’s clothes,” he said moodily. “It’s not ladylike.”
    Rachel said: “I think women should comment on anything that interests them, so I shall say that I like your tie, and that it matches your eyes.”
    Hugh smiled at her, feeling better. She was verynice, after all. However, it was not her niceness that caused Augusta to want him to marry her. Rachel was the daughter of a lawyer specializing in commercial contracts. Her family had no money other than her father’s professional income, and on the social ladder they were several rungs below the Pilasters; indeed they would not be at this party at all except that Mr. Bodwin had done useful work for the bank. Rachel was a girl in a low station in life, and by marrying her Hugh would confirm his status as a lesser breed of Pilaster; and that was what Augusta wanted.
    He was not completely averse to the thought of proposing to Rachel. Augusta had hinted that she would give him a generous wedding present if he married her choice. But it was not the wedding present that tempted him, it was the thought that every night he would be able to get into bed with a woman, and lift her nightdress up, past her ankles and her knees, past her thighs—
    “Don’t look at me that way,” Rachel said shrewdly. “I only said I liked your tie.”
    Hugh blushed again. Surely she could not guess what had been in his mind? His thoughts about girls were so grossly physical that he felt ashamed of himself much of the time. “Sorry,” he mumbled.
    “What a lot of Pilasters there are,” she said brightly, looking around. “How do you cope with them all?”
    Hugh looked around too, and saw Florence Stalworthy come in. She was extraordinarily pretty, with her fair curls falling over her delicate shoulders, a pink dress trimmed with lace and silk ribbons, and ostrich feathers in her hat. She met Hugh’s eye and smiled at him across the room.
    “I can see I’ve lost your attention,” Rachel said with characteristic bluntness.
    “I’m most awfully sorry,” Hugh said.
    Rachel touched his arm. “Hugh, dear, listen to me for a moment. I like you. You’re one of the few people inLondon society who aren’t unspeakably dull. But I don’t love you and I will never marry you, no matter how often your aunt throws us together.”
    Hugh was startled. “I say—” he began.
    But she had not finished. “And I know you feel much the same about me, so please don’t pretend to be heartbroken.”
    After a