No, satisfying as that would be for both of them, that was not the answer. Nor was showing up at the hospital and conspicuously carrying her off as soon as her duties were over every day. Given this canard’s filthy mind, he would probably decide that Maya was Peter’s mistress, and not rest until he had gotten her thrown out of the hospital on charges of immoral behavior. No, that would not work either, satisfying as it would be to demonstrate that Maya was his property.
First of all, she isn’t my property. Secondly, she might punch me in the nose for presuming. And third, in the long run, that will only make more trouble.
No, no, no. Peter was fast building a much more involved and detailed plan in his mind.
Finally Maya pushed—reluctantly, he thought—away from him, and sat up straight, smoothing her hair away from her face with both hands. Her tear-stained cheeks and red eyes looked adorable to him at this moment. Her hair was loose on her shoulders, half-veiling her forehead; her eyes gazed at him in distress. “Oh, no—” she said, looking utterly appalled. “What you must think of me!”
He laughed, and caught her hands in his before she could push her hair back. “I think that if I had been in your position, this blackguard would be singing in a higher key,” he replied. “And I understand exactly why you are in such distress. You’re in an intolerable position, and if you were alone, you would have very few ways to escape. But I think that, between us, Almsley and I may be able to maneuver you out of it.”
She started to protest. “I cannot involve you, you have done too much for me already—and as for your friend, he owes me nothing, in fact, it is I who am in his debt in the matter of that young man!”
“When was there ever a question between us of debt and repayment?” he asked, not releasing her hands, and noting that she did not try to pull them away either, noting the flush in her cheeks. “I told you before; what I’ve done in the way of instructing you is the duty of a Master to someone who has the power to become another. And, in your turn, you will teach the ones you find—or who find you. There is no repayment, there is only duty to the future.” He smiled at her; with her hair down, she looked so vulnerable. What a change from the controlled and subdued Doctor Witherspoon he had first seen! “I should think that you would be familiar with that as a doctor.”
“I suppose—but—” She took a deep breath. “Parkening is a sneak. Worse than that, he is a wealthy sneak. He’ll never forgive me, and if you get involved, he’ll never forgive you; he’ll do his best to ruin us both and he’s rich enough to succeed.”
“He may be rich, but I’ll bet my last shilling that old Peter is richer,” Peter replied. “Almsley may owe you nothing, but he owes me a very great deal. Or perhaps it would be safer to say that we’ve helped each other out so often that there’s no point in reckoning favors owed.” He pursed his lips in thought a moment. “Actually, he might well consider that he does owe you something of a favor. That young man you put in his path—Paul Jenner—is proving to be worth his weight in gold, according to my lord. You’ve no idea what a relief it is for someone with his fingers in as many pies as Almsley has to have a secretary he can trust with even the oddest of correspondence. And the fellow began working the moment he arrived at Heartwood House; he didn’t even allow his invalid status to keep him from working. You don’t think Almsley’s likely to forget that, do you?”
“I… suppose not.” Peter noted that the despair had left Maya’s tear-reddened eyes, to be replaced by hope. “Do you really think he would be willing to—go so far out of his way as to—”
“Oh, my dear!” Peter laughed, squeezing both her hands. “All you have to do is look appealingly up into his eyes, and you shan’t be able to stop him! There is a very great deal of the repressed knight-errant in Peter Almsley.”
“And in another Peter as well,” she retorted, squeezing his hands back. “But I’m serious; Simon Parkening is a mean-spirited creature, and he will try to ruin you! I can’t let you take that risk.”
“Which is why I won’t be on the scene—visibly,” Peter told her. “Now listen; I’ve dealt with cads like this fellow before. I am much older than he, and old age and hard-won experience—and just a wee touch of treachery—will trump even the cleverest of callow young sneaks.”
“You aren’t old!” she interrupted.
It was his turn to flush, with pleasure. That had been a spontaneous protest. If she thinks me something less than old enough to be her father—I think I just became happier. “The point is, my dearest, that I am older than he is by a good many years, and I know how to handle him and use his weaknesses against him. Now, what do you think the first thing that he will expect out of you will be, come the morrow?”
Think, my love. I want you thinking. I refuse to take advantage of your fear to make you dependent on me.
She frowned. “I suppose—I don’t know. I can’t think—that I’ll go to his uncle? No, he knows I won’t, because I didn’t when he made that scene in the operating theater. Besides, there is no question of whom Clayton-Smythe would believe in a choice between his word and mine. Then he must suppose that I’ll run to some male for help.” She flushed a painful-looking scarlet, and made a tentative attempt to remove her hands from his. “And now I have—”
“Oh, no, you haven’t. I came to you, remember?” He let her hands go immediately, sensing that an impression that he was trying to keep “control” of her was the wrong one to give at this moment. “But do go on—that wasn’t the whole thought. You’re much wiser than he is. I suspect you can calculate exactly what he’ll think and do long before he knows his own mind, so long as you distance yourself and look at it as an intellectual problem.”
That’s the ticket to restore her confidence; get her to think logically again.
Her brow furrowed deeply, but this time it was in thought. “Yes, he thinks any woman in trouble must run to a male, I’m sure, since he can’t imagine a woman depending on herself—I don’t have a father to run to—so I’ll run to a lover!” She flushed again, but this time there was triumph mixed with the embarrassment. “And when I do that, he’ll know who that lover is! He’ll want revenge, and revenge not just on me!”
“My thought precisely.” Peter nodded. “So what you need to do is to throw him off guard entirely. You don’t want to avoid him. That will give him a taste of satisfaction, which will only make things worse for you. Now, you know him better than I, so what possible way could you act toward him that would confuse him, rather than angering him?”
“What do you mean?” she asked, wrinkling her nose in puzzlement.
“You aren’t going to hide from him, so how will you act when you have to greet him?” he replied. “For instance—oh, you could treat him with the same kind of gentle condescension you would a naughty, but feeble-minded child.”
“That would puzzle him then, but it would infuriate him later,” she objected. “But I do see what you mean. Oh, I wish I knew more about him—I think the reason he’s about the hospital so much is because he’s up to something, but I don’t know what it is.”
Peter laughed. “Never mind, you don’t have to! That’s the jolly thing about having to outwit someone like him, with things to hide. All you have to do is throw out a vague hint and his own mind will fill it all in. He’ll be certain you know what he’s been up to! And that’s our key, and the place where Almsley can help us out, because Almsley is welcome in every sort of social circle, and he knows exactly the kind of person we need to help us out. A high-ranking churchman.”
“A what?” she asked, now completely lost.