Young Bloods

by Simon Scarrow

  ‘Yes, sir.’ The waiter snapped his order book shut before turning away and making his way across the room to the kitchen.

  ‘I suppose that’s going on my bill?’ William muttered.

  ‘Why not? You can afford it.’

  ‘I can, and I won’t deny it.The reason I can afford the wine is that I look after my money, unlike my wastrel brother. Brothers, I should say.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Read the letter for yourself.’

  ‘Just tell me.’

  William sighed. ‘It’s Richard. The fool’s taken up with some foreign woman who is bleeding him dry. Getting himself into terrible debt. It’s a bad business. Doesn’t reflect well on the family.’

  ‘A veritable model of noble behaviour, our Richard,’ Arthur replied wryly.

  William stared at him for a moment before shaking his head in exasperation. ‘Glib, as ever.’

  ‘But true.’

  William shrugged. ‘It’s irrelevant. To return to the topic of the family’s finances, if I may . . . ?’

  ‘Please.’

  ‘I know you have some debts, but we have to concentrate on handling Richard’s before his creditors start to take action. I have already acted on his behalf to mortgage the Dangan estate.’

  Arthur looked at him sharply. ‘Dangan, mortgaged?’

  ‘It had to be done, Arthur. I had to raise some capital to pay off his immediate debts. There’s just enough capital left to service the debt for perhaps another ten years. After that, there’s only a small sum in equities between us and financial ruin. You see,’ he leaned closer to Arthur, ‘we have to start building careers. All of us, if the family is to continue. Richard’s political career is going well in London. As soon as he bags one of the great offices of state he should be able to find a few sinecures to guarantee a stable future. I’ve decided to follow him to Westminster. Partly to support him, but also to try to make my own way there.’

  ‘But you’re already the member for Trim.’

  William nodded. ‘It has served its purpose. I need to move on. Therefore I’ll be resigning from the seat sometime in the new year. I’ll be taking most of my belongings with me, but you’re welcome to what’s left behind. You might want to move into Merrion Street once I’ve gone.’

  ‘You are too kind, William.’

  Wiliam shrugged. ‘Please yourself. The offer was well meant.’

  ‘I’m sure it was. Thank you. No, really. I mean it.’

  William stared at him a moment in an attempt to discern if he was being mocked, then he nodded. ‘I’m pleased to help you in any way that I can, Arthur.’

  ‘Really?’ Arthur smiled. ‘Actually, there is one other favour I’d like to ask of you.’

  ‘Oh, yes?’

  ‘I need a captaincy. I can’t survive on the pay I have at the moment.The new viceroy, Lord Westmoreland, is supposed to like a pretty lavish existence.That means that life at the castle is going to become even more expensive. Could you and Richard see if something could be arranged? Wilmott will be retiring soon. He has already intimated that his commission will be up for sale. He’s cavalry, so there are a few extra allowances that will be worth having.’

  ‘A captain’s commission?’ William mused. ‘All right, I’ll see what I can do. Of course, you could always try and be a little less profligate. In the meantime there’s something you can do for me, in return.’

  ‘Name it.’

  ‘Keep your nose clean. I’ve been following your progress at the castle. Not too impressive, is it, Arthur?’

  ‘I’ve been much better behaved of late. Ask and see.’

  ‘I know you have. Just keep it up. All right? For the sake of the family.’

  Arthur shrugged. ‘As you wish.’

  ‘Good.’William had finished his meal, and set down his cutlery before dabbing at his lips. ‘Now I have to be back at the House for this afternoon’s intelligence committee briefing.’

  ‘Sounds very interesting.’

  ‘It might be. Our agents are saying that there’s some trouble brewing amongst the Irish. Not unusual, but you’d think we had already given enough away with the Catholic relief acts. All it’s caused is trouble. Remember all that bloodshed over the Gordon riots back in London? If we’re not careful, we’ll have the same trouble here. Seems these people won’t be content until the English quit this land. Not that it will ever happen, but they just can’t stop dreaming about it.’

  ‘As long as they just dream it.’

  ‘Of course,’ William sneered. ‘What? Did you think that the Irish will ever amount to much? It isn’t in their blood. They are an ill-humoured, ill-bred race fit for nothing but toiling in the fields.’

  ‘An interesting point of view, William,’ Arthur replied quietly. ‘But I’d be careful where I voiced it. Anyway, your health!’

  Arthur downed another glass of Madeira and William frowned. ‘Don’t go and overindulge my hospitality, will you, Arthur?’

  ‘Me?’ Arthur touched his throat and adopted an offended expression. ‘I’m a reformed character.’

  ‘Really? We shall see . . . We shall see.’

  Chapter 48

  Despite William’s best efforts there was no promotion for Arthur in the new year. At the close of the war with the American colonies the army had returned to a peacetime establishment and there was little scope for promotion, given that the commissions that did come up for sale fetched high prices. Only a decent war, or the prospect of one, would lead to a demand for officers and therefore a drop in the market value of the captaincy that Arthur sought.Although promotion eluded him, he did manage a transfer into the 12th Light Dragoons. This provided an improved income, and a dashing new uniform to display at social events in Dublin. However, the new viceroy lived up to his reputation for extravagance and within weeks of his arrival Arthur’s mess bill and his other debts had begun to increase alarmingly as he felt compelled to keep up with the lifestyle expected of those who were part of the viceregal court at Dublin Castle.

  As winter gave way to spring, and the picnic season began once again, Arthur was deeply concerned about his money problems.The only immediate solution that lay open to him was to cut back on his expenses. And the only way to achieve that was to draw back from the chaotic social scene in Dublin. He began to turn down invitations, making the excuse that he had a prior obligation and returning to his lodgings to spend an afternoon, or evening, reading a book.This was not a pastime he cared to mention to his fellow officers, since they were already starting to complain that he was deserting them in their evening forays into the drinking dens and brothels of the city.

  However, invitations from the viceroy and the vicereine could not be turned down without causing the gravest offence. Any officer so foolhardy as to court their disapproval was likely to find himself transferred to some pestilential post in the West Indies where the heat or some fever could utterly ruin a man’s health in a matter of months. So it was that one hot day in the middle of June Arthur found himself travelling in the carriage of Lady Aldborough on the way to a picnic amid the rolling hills to the west of the city.They were part of a long convoy of carriages that departed Dublin late in the morning. Above the rattle of iron wheel rims and the dull clatter of horseshoes, the voices of hundreds of guests gaily rang out across the countryside and caused peasants in the field to stop and stare at the fine procession passing along the country lanes.

  Lady Aldborough had asked for the company of one of the castle’s most handsome and interesting officers and the vicereine had selected Arthur. Tall, slim and attractive, he still had a reputation for being outgoing and entertaining.The poor reputation he had earned for himself under the previous viceroy was largely forgiven and he was sure to make Lady Aldborough a good companion for the day. Or so it was thought.

  ‘Have you heard the news from France, my lady?’ Arthur opened the discussion. ‘We received a London paper in the mess this morning.’

  ‘And what news
would this be?’

  ‘Why, that the country is in crisis. There are riots across the land.The King has been forced to summon the Estates to Paris to resolve the situation.’

  ‘Indeed?’ Lady Aldborough replied drily.‘How fascinating.And why should this be of interest to you, Lieutenant? Or to me for that matter.’

  ‘If the reports are accurate, and the authority of the King is being challenged, then the regime itself is under threat.’

  ‘How dreadful. I imagine that means that the supply of hats and dresses from Paris may well be interrupted. That would be a catastrophe.’

  Arthur stared at her as if she were mad. Then she laughed at his expression and tapped his breast with the tip of her folded parasol. ‘I was joking. I apologise. But surely a young man like yourself has better things to do than worry about events in a distant country.’

  ‘We may be in Ireland, my lady, but France is the closest neighbour to the British Isles. We should be concerned about what takes place in Paris.’

  ‘On a beautiful day like this? Why bother? We are powerless to intervene and therefore we should concentrate on the pleasures immediately afforded us. Namely this picnic.’ She leaned forward and patted his knee. ‘Come now, Arthur . . . if I may? I was told that you were a witty and interesting fellow, and yet I find your conversation muted and focused on a most dull topic.’

  ‘Dull?’

  ‘Politics, Arthur. Politics bores me. I want to talk about something else.’

  ‘Of course, my lady.’ Arthur forced himself to smile. ‘And what would you like to discuss?’

  She stared at him for a moment, in silence, and then frowned. ‘I don’t know,’ she said irritably. ‘This is too much like hard work, Arthur. Conversation is supposed to be light-hearted and spontaneous.Yours is neither.’

  ‘I apologise, my lady.’

  ‘Tush! It’s too bad. Really, it’s too bad.’ She turned away from him and stared fixedly at the passing countryside. Arthur stiffened as he felt the awkwardness of the situation grow between them. But he was in no mood for petty conversations. He was genuinely worried about the news from France. He recalled his time at Angers, and fondly recalled Monsieur and Madame de Pignerolle. He also recalled a conversation he had once had with the elegant old man about the tensions building up between the social classes of France. If no compromise was achieved, Monsieur de Pignerolle had said, then the country would break apart. The old regime, to which he belonged, would be swept away in the ensuing chaos. Arthur had respected the man from the first. He had embodied all that was good in the French aristocracy: grace, refinement and a sense of tradition that stretched back over generations. Arthur fervently hoped that the crisis would pass swiftly.The very idea of conflict between the classes that make up a society filled him with anxiety. As he sat in the carriage and stared at the peasants in the field he could not help wondering what would happen here if the common people once got a whiff of the rebellious spirit that seemed to have gripped France this last month.

  Servants from the castle had been sent ahead to erect a marquee and arrange the tables and chairs. The castle band had arrived in a wagon and set up their music stands and stools, and had rehearsed the dances they were to play after lunch. Cold food and chilled wines and punches had been carefully laid out on a long table, and all was set for the guests as their carriages trundled up to the site. Lady Aldborough had long since given up on her young chaperone and as soon as her carriage had stopped moving she allowed herself to be handed down and hurried off to join a small crowd of other ladies gathering beside the marquee. Arthur watched her go with a tinge of regret. She was not without good looks, a decent fortune and good connections. Exactly the sort of woman William would have urged him to cultivate with a view to a useful long-term friendship, even if nothing matrimonial transpired.

  But he could not shake off the growing shroud of gloom that seemed to have enveloped him in recent months. Unlike most of the other officers he had some sense of wider consequences, and the thrill of a carpe diem lifestyle had begun to pall. He must master his debts and begin to plan for the future.With the news of events in France filtering across Europe like a bad vapour, Arthur could not share in the good spirits of the picnic guests around him. He gazed at them, for the most part young and carefree, as he himself should be.Yet there was a blindness to the world around them that made them all seem quite vulnerable. In the fields below the hill, the black dots of peasants scratched a living from their wretched smallholdings.They could barely pay the rents demanded of them by the landowner’s agents. It would only take one bad harvest to drive them to despair, and desperate people were capable of any degree of violence. So there was something poignant about this moment of innocent and ignorant pleasure and he realised that he should try to savour it while he could. Even if he was wrong about far-off events, he would not be young for long.

  After lunch had finished the guests began to move towards the marquee where a portable wooden floor had been set up. It had been arranged that Lady Aldborough would give her first dance to Arthur, but now it seemed that she had transferred her affections to Major John Cradock, a beau of one of the cavalry regiments. Since there were more men than women at the picnic, the remaining females were spoken for. As the band struck up the introduction to the first dance the couples moved on to the dance floor and left Arthur and a handful of others at the side to watch. When the music began the couples on the dance floor swept into motion in a synchronised display of footwork.

  Arthur watched for a while, before he was aware of an uncomfortable prickling sensation under his collar.Turning away from the marquee, he walked over to the covered table where the silver fruit punch bowls gleamed in the sunshine. He helped himself to a glass and then wandered away towards a small knoll covered with chestnut trees. It was cool in the shadows and he found the trunk of a tree that had fallen many years before and was now dry and hard. Arthur sat down, facing away from the marquee and gazed down the slope towards the distant smudge of Dublin, sprawling across the landscape. Above him the dry rustle of wind through the leaves was soothing and for a moment he leaned back and shut his eyes and breathed gently, scenting the earthy odour of the moss and flowers that grew beneath the chestnut trees.

  Then, as the music stopped and there was a faint patter of applause, Arthur reached inside his jacket for the slim volume he had started to read a few days before. He shuffled his shoulders to find the most comfortable position to lean against the fallen trunk and opened his book, flipping through the pages until he found the place he had left off. He took a deep breath, and let it out slowly as he began to read. Soon, he became absorbed and his attention was entirely focused on the material in front of him. So it was that he did not notice the girl’s presence until she was almost standing over him. Then, with a start he scrambled to his feet and snapped the book shut.

  ‘Sorry, madam, I didn’t see you.’

  She smiled. ‘It is I who should apologise, sir. For intruding on your solitude.’

  ‘Yes, well . . .’

  ‘In truth, I was curious. I saw you walk up this way from the dance floor.’

  ‘Indeed.’ Arthur’s expression softened at the sight of the good-humoured twinkle in the eyes that watched him from beneath a fringe of brown curls. She smiled at him again.

  ‘Ah, but you have a book with you. That explains it then. So much more rewarding than enjoying the company of others.’

  For a moment Arthur felt irritated, then saw that she had gauged his character perfectly, and his face creased into a smile.

  She laughed. ‘I thought you must have a sense of humour.’

  ‘It has been noted in some circles,’ Arthur conceded. ‘But my sense of humour has not always been welcomed.’

  ‘That has also been noted.’

  Arthur stiffened. ‘What can I do for you, madam?’

  ‘Kitty. My name is Kitty Pakenham.’ She held out her hand and Arthur bent to kiss it. ‘And I already know who you are, sir. I came
up here to see if you would be kind enough to ask me to dance.’

  ‘You are a forward girl, Miss Pakenham.’ Arthur grinned. ‘But I should be delighted to ask you for the next dance.’

  ‘And I should be delighted to accept.’

  They turned towards the marquee and started down the slope. Arthur could not help but be amused by the girl’s spirited attitude. He raised the book back towards the opening in his jacket, but she reached over and stayed his arm.

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘Nothing important.’

  She tilted her head to read the title. ‘An Essay Concerning Human Understanding. Locke, isn’t it?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘A strange choice of reading matter for a young man. Stranger still for an aide at the castle. Someone told me you were a serious, bookish sort.’

  ‘Let me guess. Lady Aldborough.’

  ‘You have her measure, sir,’ Kitty laughed.

  ‘And she has mine.’

  They joined the other couples on the floor just as the band struck up with the next dance. Arthur had no time to place his hands with much delicacy as Kitty grabbed him and they were swept away into the swish and flow of skirts and tightly fitting breeches. She was only a fair dancer and Arthur, being much more accomplished, found it difficult to keep changing his step to avoid her misplaced feet. When the dance came to an end she laughed at his anxious expression.

  ‘Oh, dear me. Have I been such a terrible partner?’

  ‘Not at all.’ Arthur attempted to be gallant. ‘You dance with . . . exuberance.’

  ‘Exuberance!’ She shook her head. ‘I’ve never heard it called that before. But you are being kind to me, sir. Now I fear I have imposed myself upon you for one dance too many.’

  ‘Has the next dance been taken?’ Given the shortage of ladies there was every chance that Kitty had already been claimed. Indeed, she looked round and frowned as her eyes alighted on Major Cradock, engaged in intense conversation with Lady Aldborough. She turned back to Arthur with a fresh smile.