Читаем A Dangerous Fortune (1994) полностью

"Then she could do something, if you asked her."

Lady Morte gave a little laugh. "My dear Mrs. Pilaster, you overestimate my power." Augusta held her tongue and ignored the condescending tone. Lady Morte went on: "Her Majesty is not likely to take my advice over that of the prime minister. Besides, what would be my grounds of objection?"

"Greenbourne is a Jew."

Lady Morte nodded. "There was a time when that would have finished it. I remember when Gladstone wanted to make Lionel Rothschild a peer: the queen refused point-blank. But that was ten years ago. Since then we have had Disraeli."

"But Disraeli is a Christian. Greenbourne is a practicing Jew."

"I wonder if that would make a difference," Lady Morte mused. "It might, you know. And she's constantly criticizing the Prince of Wales for having so many Jews among his friends."

"Then if you were to mention to her that the prime minister is proposing to ennoble one of them ..."

"I can bring it up in conversation. I'm not sure it will be enough to effect your purpose."

Augusta thought hard. "Is there anything we can do to make the whole question a matter of more concern to Her Majesty?"

"If there were to be some public protest--questions in Parliament, perhaps, or articles in the press ..."

"The press," Augusta said. She thought of Arnold Hobbes. "Yes!" she said. "I think that could be arranged."

Hobbes was splendidly discombobulated by Augusta's presence in his cramped, inky office. He could not make up his mind whether to tidy up, attend to her or get rid of her. Consequently he did all three in a hysterical muddle: he moved sheets of paper and bundles of proofs from the floor to the table and back again; he fetched her a chair, a glass of sherry and a plate of biscuits; and at the same time he proposed that they go elsewhere to talk. She let him run wild for a minute or two then said: "Mr. Hobbes, please sit down and listen to me."

"Of course, of course," he said, and he subsided into a chair and peered at her through his grimy spectacles.

She told him in a few crisp sentences about Ben Greenbourne's peerage.

"Most regrettable, most regrettable," he blabbered nervously. "However, I don't think The Forum could be accused of lack of enthusiasm in promoting the cause which you so kindly suggested to me."

And in exchange for which you got two lucrative directorships of companies controlled by my husband, Augusta thought. "I know it's not your fault," she said irritably. "The point is, what can you do about it?"