Читаем A Dangerous Fortune (1994) полностью

Michael Fortescue was her tame politician. Having won the Deaconridge by-election with financial help from Joseph, he was now a member of Parliament, and indebted to Augusta. She had made it very clear how he could repay that debt: by helping her to get a peerage for Joseph. The by-election had cost five thousand pounds, enough to buy the finest house in London, but that was a cheap price to pay for a title. The afternoon was the time for calls, so morning visitors generally had urgent business. She felt sure Fortescue would not have called so early unless he had news of the peerage, and her heart beat faster. "Put Mr. Fortescue in the lookout," she told the butler. "I shall be with him directly." She sat still for a few moments, trying to make herself calm.

Her campaign had gone according to plan so far. Arnold Hobbes had published a series of articles in his journal The Forum calling for peerages for commercial men. Lady Morte had talked to the queen about it, and had sung Joseph's praises; and she said Her Majesty had seemed impressed. And Fortescue had told Prime Minister Disraeli that there was a groundswell of public opinion in favor of the idea. Now perhaps the whole effort was about to bear fruit.

The tension was almost too much for her, and she felt a little breathless as she hurried up the stairs, her head full of the phrases she hoped soon to hear: Lady Whitehaven ... the earl and countess Whitehaven ... very good, m'lady ... as your ladyship pleases....

The lookout was a curious room. It was over the front lobby, and was reached by a door halfway up the stairs. It had a bay window over the street, but that was not what gave the room its name. What was unusual about it was an interior window that looked down into the main hall. People in the hall did not suspect they were observed, and over the years Augusta had seen some strange sights from that vantage point. The room was informal, small and cozy, with a low ceiling and a fireplace. Augusta received visitors there in the morning.

Fortescue looked a little tense. Augusta sat close to him on the window seat and gave him a warm, reassuring smile.

"I've just been with the prime minister," he said.

Augusta could hardly speak. "Did you talk about peerages?"

"We did indeed. I've managed to convince him that it is time the banking industry was represented in the House of Lords, and he's now minded to grant a peerage to a City man."