by Lynn Bryant
“No, I suppose not. But why in God’s name would the Admiral care?”
Wellesley laughed aloud. “Oh Major, you are so mature for your age that it is a relief sometimes to realise how naive you can still be! He didn’t care at all. Admiral Gambier is a man who has very particular views, particularly on questions of religion. And morality.”
“Morality – oh. Oh, Jesus.”
Wellesley gave a little shake of his head. “He knew nothing about you, Paul,” he said quietly, refilling Paul’s glass. “Other than that he’d had a complaint about you from the remains of the crew of the Flight. And they were always going to complain about you, before you complained about them.”
Paul shook his head. “I wouldn’t have, not once the men were taken care of and I’d calmed down. Christ, the Bosun wasn’t the man who made the decision to sail on when the fever was discovered, that was the lieutenant in charge of the Flight, and he was dead.”
“Paul, the unfortunate man could hardly have known he had come across the only officer in the British army who wouldn’t have wanted him flogged for drunkenness and dereliction of duty; you are not normal!” Wellesley said in sudden exasperation. “If you are going to avoid going through your career getting into this kind of trouble you need to grow up and learn to see things as the rest of us see them. Bosun Wilson expected trouble so he exaggerated what you said and did out of all proportion. And it would have worked if it hadn’t been for the captain of the Iris who appears to me to be almost as mad as you are!”
“No, he’s not, sir, he’s just Manx,” Paul said seriously. “I’ve served with them before, they’re the best men in the navy whatever their rank. It’s just that they don’t have quite the same respect for the social order as we do.”
“Perhaps you should settle there when you leave the army, it would probably suit you!” Wellesley said caustically. “Admiral Gambier heard two conflicting stories about what you said and did that day. Had I been in his position I’d have believed Kelly because he’s the senior of the two, insisted you apologise, got your commanding officer – which at that point was me – to tear a strip off you and let it go. Apparently Admiral Gambier likes to do things by the book and by then he had made a few enquiries about you and found that you were a very wealthy nobody, buying your way up the ladder with a reputation for questionable morals of which the Admiral disapproves. He wrote to demand a court martial and then forgot all about you again.”
Inexplicably Paul began to feel better. He laughed suddenly. “I am such an arsehole sometimes,” he said. “I’ve spent weeks since Copenhagen agonising over everything. Trying to work out what the hell I’d done to piss enough people off to have them coming after me and you’re telling me it was nothing at all?”
“Were you rude to Popham?” Wellesley said. “That day you went to see him?”
Paul thought about it. “Not rude, exactly. I mean, I don’t think I actually said anything that he could have complained about. But he’d have had to be stupid not to know I was furious, I’m not good at hiding that.”
“Get better at it,” Wellesley said, and Paul resisted the urge to salute. He knew an order when he heard one.
“Yes, sir,” he said. “I am sorry.”
“Popham is a man very much on his dignity. He is also a man who has recently survived a court martial of his own, for doing something considerably worse than your minor scrape. I do not really know Popham, although he has the reputation for being very clever and very useful and very elusive. But just at the moment, Major van Daan, all of these people are a long way up the ladder from you.”
“I understand that, sir.” Paul picked up his glass and drank. “But they won’t always be.”
His chief studied him for a moment and then gave a very small smile. “Very likely not, if you survive that far.”
“I’ll survive, sir. One thing is still puzzling me. I know very well that Captain Kelly is a huge part of why I’m here today. His wife was incredible and your testimony must have helped. But none of you could argue against that fourth charge. Popham told me to leave it alone when I saw him that day. And I didn’t. But somehow, in court, without actually lying, he failed to mention that. That was the one piece of testimony which could have – and probably should have – buried me. Why didn’t it?”
“Several reasons, I imagine,” Wellesley said.
“Did you have something to do with it, sir?”
“No, Major. I will admit that I did make my opinion known, very publicly, that I thought it unjust that a very promising young officer was at risk of losing his commission when he had meant only good, while other officers of both the army and the navy seemed to get away with it because they had good connections in high places. But I have no way of knowing if anybody did anything about that. Let it drop, Major van Daan.”
“I’m not that good at letting things drop, sir. If I owe somebody for this - other than Sir Home Popham, obviously - I’d really like to know about it.”
“It is not a debt that is likely to be called in, Major.” Wellesley hesitated. “Recently I attended a very boring governmental dinner. The Earl of Chatham was present. I spoke a little to him. We are not friends, you know, but one is civil. I was enquiring about his wife. She has been unwell, although I believe she is slightly better.”
“I’m glad of it, sir.”
“I mentioned your name, I told him that you had been serving under me and of my regard for your ability as an officer and expressed my sorrow at your present situation.”
“Did he even remember me?” Paul asked curiously.
“He did. He said that he remembered you as a very charming boy with excellent manners. I refrained from asking him if he had confused you with somebody else. But I was surprised that he appeared to know so much about your current difficulties.”
“Could the Earl have spoken to Popham? And why on earth would he?”
“I have no idea, Major. Sir Home Riggs Popham prides himself on his ability to work well in joint operations. And we all share political allegiance…”
“I really don’t, sir.”
“Are you by any chance a Whig, Major van Daan?”
“It would be difficult to quantify my lack of interest in politics, sir. And as you so very civilly pointed out earlier, I am a wealthy nobody. Who cares what I think?”
“Oh stop being humble, Major, it is deeply unconvincing. Popham doesn’t really care about your career, but he does crave respect and you can be extraordinarily irritating without actually being disrespectful. Perhaps there was a conversation or a letter regarding you or perhaps not. Perhaps Sir Home Popham decided that it might be useful to have you under an obligation to him. You are, after all, on your way up.”
“In the army, perhaps. Not the navy. He should try being nice to Captain Kelly.”
“Captain Kelly doesn’t have the friends you seem to have, Major.”
“Captain Kelly doesn’t give a damn, he just wants to do his job, marry his lass and go home to Mann. And I like that about him.” Paul set down his wine glass. “Will Popham get into trouble over this?”
“I believe that the court have issued a mild reprimand at the waste of their time. I am delighted that Moore requested that something similar be sent to Admiral Gambier. Nothing serious, but it will annoy him. Do not feel sympathy for either of them, Major, it was a piece of nonsense. Most of the matters that come up before a general court martial are, in my opinion. I would dismiss them out of hand.”
Paul grinned. “Sir, you’re not normal any more than I am. You can’t be or you wouldn’t put up with me. I can’t believe it’s over. What now, I’ve heard nothing from Colonel Johnstone? I’m presuming he’s been waiting for the verdict.”
“I imagine so. I shall go back to Dublin and my desk and continue to annoy the government until they give me another posting. Your battalion will go back to Melton to await orders. They’ll come; you’re beginning to earn a good reputation. The second battalion has gone to Alexandria.
I hope they do as well.” Wellesley permitted himself a grim smile. “When they finally decide where to send me next, Major, I will be requesting that you accompany me.”
“Good. At least you know what to expect.” Paul met his chief’s eyes across the table. “Sir, thank you. You’re right. I’ve got this far on sheer luck but I do need to get better at dealing with army politics. And I will, I promise you. I will go back to Melton and...”
“Oh you are not going back to Melton, Major,” Wellesley said smoothly. “Did I not mention that? During my somewhat exhausting efforts on your behalf I was asked by an acquaintance if I could recommend a man for a temporary posting to Yorkshire.”
“Yorkshire?” Paul said blankly. “What the devil would I be doing in Yorkshire?”
“The first battalion of the 115th North Yorkshire foot requires a temporary commander,” Wellesley said. It was always difficult to tell with Wellesley, but Paul looked at him and could tell that his commander was enjoying himself tremendously. It gave Paul a slightly hollow feeling of dread.
“Do they?” he said cautiously.
“They do,” Wellesley said, and he sounded, for him, positively jovial. “It appears that there are some disciplinary problems. Some problems with training. Some issues with recruitment. Some issues with finance. And currently no officers above the rank of captain.”
“Why?” Paul said, bewildered.
Wellesley smiled and it was the smile of a man at peace with the world. “Because word has got out, Major van Daan, and nobody wants to touch this little problem with the point of a very long lance. Only a madman would volunteer for this. Or a man with no choice. You, for example. A commander will be found and new officers will be commissioned eventually, but somebody needs to go there in the meantime because the men of the 115th foot are causing havoc in the local community and the good citizens of Thorndale are beginning to complain. I have informed Horse Guards that I have just the man for the job.”
“Thorndale?” Paul said. “Where in God’s name is Thorndale, I’ve never even heard of it?”
“I will ensure you get a map,” Wellesley said. “A charming little market town once, although I believe it is now suffering the effects of industrialisation. Wool, I think, and cotton. New mills, new money and new men. None of them want the army smashing up the local taverns and stealing their sheep. I would make sure you take plenty of warm clothing with you, Major, I believe it can get very cold in January that far north.”
“Thank you for the advice, sir,” Paul said. There were a number of other things that he would have liked to say about this particular posting. Wellesley, who was sitting back in his chair sipping his wine, lifted one extremely supercilious eyebrow and Paul decided that this was probably an excellent time to practise his new resolution of showing more respect for his senior officers.
“When do I need to leave, sir?” he asked politely.
He had the satisfaction of seeing Sir Arthur Wellesley’s impassive countenance display a flicker of surprise. “You may have Christmas at home with your poor wife,” he said. “Do enjoy it.”
“I’ll do my best, sir.”
“I need to be going, I have several calls to make and my desk is probably piled high with unnecessary correspondence,” Wellesley said. “And you should go and see your brother, he’ll want to congratulate you.”
“Yes. I’ll be able to tell him about my new posting as well,” Paul said affably, getting up. “I cannot describe how much I am looking forward to it.”
His commander gave one of his rare grins. “Six months at most,” he said. “I’ll have something for you by then and if it takes you that long to whip the 115th foot into shape I will be very surprised. Just be thankful it wasn’t worse. If I didn’t think I’d have a use for you in this war I would have sent you to the West Indies. Enjoy Yorkshire.”
“I didn’t think enjoyment was the point of this little exercise,” Paul said, saluting. “But I’m sure I’ll find something to do. Enjoy your Christmas, sir.”
***
Hugh had intended to take rooms in Chatham for Roseen, but his wife had dismissed the idea with characteristic bluntness and he did not persist. The docks were bustling with life and every tavern and coffee house seethed with rumours about future plans and campaigns. For once Hugh did not really care. All ambition for the future was temporarily suspended and he left it to his restless first lieutenant to prowl the town listening for gossip and relaying back to him the talk of expeditions to Spain and Portugal, to South America and the Low Countries. For once Hugh was happy to be in port.
Roseen seemed finally to have fully recovered from her illness. Hugh watched her with some anxiety, knowing how often such fevers tended to recur but even in the cold of winter she was rosy cheeked and healthy. She seemed to love being aboard the Iris and was gradually making herself part of the life of the ship, insisting on being present through all the little rituals of the day. His officers had quickly become used to her. In particular, Mr Durrell had become her devoted admirer. While Hugh was busy with some of the administrative tasks left over from their recent expedition, Durrell took it upon himself to begin to instruct Roseen in the basics of navigation and seamanship and Hugh had to bite back a laugh at his earnest young lieutenant explaining semaphore while gazing admiringly into Roseen’s eyes. He was very grateful to her for effortlessly bridging the gap that had opened up between him and Lieutenant Durrell. There was still a long way to go, but it had improved and Hugh was no longer considering ways of getting rid of him.
Hugh had considered making the trip back to Mann for Christmas. He had received letters from Josiah Crellin full of relief at his daughter’s safety and joy at the news of their marriage. Hugh would have liked to have taken Roseen back to Ballabrendon as his wife for the first time, but there were some minor repairs and adjustments to the Iris that he wanted to oversee himself, and when he spoke of it to Roseen, his wife had shaken her head firmly.
“I’ve no need to go home yet, Hugh. My father has written and he’s not expecting us. I know that you don’t want to leave the Iris in the hands of Mr Durrell just yet and I’m happy here. They’re still chewing the bacon over the scandal at home. Let’s give them time to get over it, shall we?”
Hugh smiled, leaned forward and kissed her. “Does it bother you?”
“No, not at all. Whatever the official story, they’ll all assume that I ran away to be with you. The whole press gang tale is too unlikely. By now the whole island will know that we’re married and they’ll gossip for a while and all the girls will be furious and think me very sly to have trapped you so neatly.”
“It was a very good scheme, Roseen,” Hugh said gravely. “I must say, it wasn’t without its risks, but…”
Roseen picked up her spoon and rapped him lightly on the knuckles. “Behave yourself, Captain. My father has Finlo and Margaret back home with the baby, he’ll have a busy enough Christmas, he doesn’t need us.”
“Then we’ll stay here. I think we might have Christmas dinner at the Queen Mary, though, it will get fairly raucous on board with extra food and grog and I wouldn’t mind a night or two of peace and quiet with you.”
“It sounds lovely, but we should invite the officers to join us for dinner at the inn at least.”
Hugh laughed. “Lieutenant Durrell will be delighted at the opportunity to sit beside you and gaze into your eyes.”
“Hugh!”
“Not that I blame him in the least. I should…”
“Excuse me, sir.”
Hugh turned. “What is it, Brian?”
“There’s a visitor for you, sir. Major van Daan.”
Hugh gave a broad smile. “Really? Well send him in, lad. You can’t leave an army man out there in this weather, they feel the cold.”
“I heard that,” the familiar voice said from behind Brian and Hugh got up as the tall fair figure ducked into the day cabin and straightened, saluting. “I notice you’re nice and snug in here, mind, sir.”
“I’m glad you said that, sir, I did wonder if you’d be glad to see the back of me given the amount of trouble I’ve been,” the major said, smiling. The blue eyes moved to Roseen and he bowed slightly. “It’s good to see you looking so well, ma’am.”
Roseen came forward. “Thanks largely to you, Major,” she said. “I am so glad you came, I missed the chance to congratulate you on the verdict. What a very great piece of nonsense it was to be sure.”
“I’m bound to say so, ma’am, but I am glad it’s over.”
“So am I. Come and sit down, Major, and have a drink. Have you eaten?”
“I stopped on the road to dine but a drink would be welcome.” Paul seated himself and accepted the wine with a smile of thanks. “I’m sorry just to drop in on you like this, but I’m about to travel back to Leicestershire and I really wanted to say goodbye and thank you. Truly, without both of your testimony I don’t think I’d be wearing this uniform.”
“I suspect if they’d tried to cashier you they’d have heard all about it from Sir Arthur Wellesley,” Hugh said. “He’s been a solid supporter and his testimony must have counted for more than mine.”
“He has, and I’m grateful, but he’s hardly disinterested.” The deep blue eyes met Hugh’s across the table. “Sir, I behaved appallingly on the Flight that day and you’d every right to get up in that courtroom and say so. You didn’t. Thank you, and I’m sorry. You did the right thing from start to finish and I had absolutely no excuse for being as rude as I was.”
Hugh sipped his wine, studying the younger man. He could think of a number of reasons why Paul van Daan might want to remain on the right side of the Royal Navy but he sensed that the major was thinking of none of them. The apology had the ring of sincerity. He smiled.