Young bloods

'The tall boy, over there on the staircase. Talking in a rather animated manner with those rakes.'

'Oh, I see him now.' Sarah stared for a moment in surprise. 'That's Arthur?'

'Yes, I'm certain of it now.'

'That's the same Arthur you've been telling me about? "Thin, surly and quite dull" is how I believe you described him to me. Well, Anne, he's certainly not how I imagined him.'

'No.' Anne looked confused. 'Follow me. Let's go and speak to him. I'm interested to know how long it is since he returned from France.'

They moved through the crowd towards the staircase. The crowd was emerging from a revival of The Rivals, still high-spirited from the performance of the dashing lead. After much genteel shoving and muttering of apologies they reached the foot of the staircase and Anne waved a gloved hand to attract her son's attention.

'Arthur!'

As soon as he heard his name, the young man turned his gaze in her direction. After a word of apology to his friends, he strode down the steps and took his mother's hands. She offered her face for a kiss and then looked him up and down.

'You've changed. Taller, somehow, and you carry yourself so much better.'

'Thank you, Mother.' He bowed his head graciously. 'I'm glad you approve. It seems that your money was well spent in sending me to Monsieur de Pignerolle's establishment.'

'When did you get back from France?'

'The tenth of December. I travelled back with Simpson there.' He pointed towards one of the young men watching the reunion from the stairs. 'He invited me to stay with his family in Mayfair for a few days. After that, it was my intention to come to you.'

'I see.'

There was no hiding Anne's hurt expression and her companion quickly intervened. 'I'm delighted to meet you, Arthur. I've heard so very much about you. I am Sarah Ponsonby.' She extended her hand and Arthur made a pretty bow and kissed her hand before straightening up with a good-humoured smile.

'I trust not everything my mother said was derogatory.'

'Oh, no!' Sarah glanced at her friend. 'Not everything. Although one would struggle to recognise you from her descriptions. '

'No doubt!' They shared a spontaneous laugh while Anne blushed. As she looked at Arthur she found it hard to believe the difference in him. So self-assured and with an easy charm that was already working its way with Sarah Ponsonby.When the laughter had subsided she addressed her son again.

'So, Arthur, how was it in France?'

'Very pleasant, Mother. My French has improved considerably, my riding is first rate, my manner is far more dignified and I have learned to drink the hardest old sweat of a drill instructor under the table.'

'Your accomplishments are most impressive,' she responded acidly. 'I merely asked to see if you had a good time in Angers.'

'The best of times, Mother.'

'That's good. And what now? Have you entertained any thoughts of a career?'

'The army. I think I will like the military life enormously. As soon as Christmas is over I'll ask Richard if he can use some influence to find me an opening. I believe he's still employed on the Board of the Treasury?'

Anne inwardly winced at the mention of employment, but it was true: Richard had made a place for himself within the government and had been rewarded with a senior position in the Lord Chancellor's department. It was said that he had a very promising political future ahead of him, and therefore should be in a good position to help advance the prospects of his far less gifted brother.

'Yes, you can speak to him about it as soon as possible.'

Arthur frowned.'Not as soon as possible, Mother. I'm enjoying myself too much at present. Let me approach Richard when I've had a little more time to enjoy London.There'll be plenty of time to consider my career in the New Year.'

'Why wait? Richard is joining us for Christmas Day.You can speak to him then.'

'Christmas Day…' Arthur considered. 'Very well. If it will make you happy.'

He turned to Sarah Ponsonby and flashed a brilliant smile. 'So tell me, what did you make of the play?'

'Oh, it's a fine piece of fiction, but bears little resemblance to real life.'

'You think so?' Arthur raised an eyebrow and turned to his friends up on the staircase. 'Christopher! That fellow Sheridan. You say he told you that Captain Absolute was based on an actual acquaintance of his?'

'That's right.'

'Surely not.' Sarah refused to believe a word of it. 'That can't be true.'

'Oh, it is.' Arthur lowered his voice and leaned closer. 'Absolutely true.'

He started laughing, a peculiar dry barking noise that always aggravated his mother, and she tapped him gently on the shoulder.'That will do,Arthur. It appears that you have not grown up quite as much as I'd hoped. So I think we'll leave you to amuse yourself with your little friends. Do send word to me when you are ready to come home.'

'As soon as I've had some fun, Mother.'

'By Christmas, at any rate.'

The day, when it came, was cold, wet and windy, and Arthur was glad to shut the door on it when he arrived at his mother's small house in Chelsea, not so very far from Brown's establishment where he had passed a few miserable years as a child. He handed his coat and hat to a servant and followed the sounds of conversation down the carpeted hall to an open door at the end. The parlour was a decent size, but seemed bigger due to the small amount of furniture it contained. A fire was glowing in a large grate and seated around it were his mother, Richard and William. Lady Mornington's other children were staying with friends to celebrate Christmas. Or so she claimed, thought Arthur. Far more likely was the prospect that they had been sent away so that she could engineer a small conference of the more senior members of the family to settle Arthur on a career as expeditiously as possible.

Richard rose from the chair with a smile and crossed the room to shake his hand. 'Welcome, Arthur! It's good to see you again after, what, over a year?'

'A year and a half actually.'

'Mother tells me that you had a profitable time in France. That's good. Better still, you have settled on a military career.'

'Yes, that's what I intend, eventually,' Arthur replied. 'I should quite like to be a soldier.'

'Excellent! Then I shall see what I can do to further that aim.' Richard stood aside and waved his younger brother towards an empty seat by the fireplace. 'There. We can talk until the meal is ready.'

Once Arthur was seated, it was William's turn to make small talk. 'So, Arthur, what did they teach you in France?'

Arthur had been asked this many times since his return from Angers, mostly by relatives and friends of his mother, and the temptation to be flippant was overwhelming. 'Let me see. In addition to French, riding and fencing I became quite adept at drinking.'

His attempt at levity met with a stony silence. He shrugged. 'So, how are things at Oxford? Still dabbling in the classics?'

'Dabbling?' William smiled. 'I see, you are teasing me.'

'Am I?' Arthur looked surprised. 'Why, bless me. I think you may be right!'

He laughed and after a short delay the others joined in, before William stopped and addressed his younger brother. 'Actually, I'm doing very well. I have been told that I should have a chair at one of the colleges before the end of next year.'

'Congratulations. I'm very proud of you.'

William sat back with a warm smile of satisfaction, then noted the cross expression on his mother's face and sat forward again with a start as she entered the conversation.

'William and Richard are both making the family proud. So is young Gerald. I would not be surprised if he followed William's example and became a scholar.' She fixed her eyes on Arthur. 'That leaves you, Arthur. You lack a purpose in life. You always have. Playing the violin and carousing with your friends is not very fulfilling.'

'Oh, it is. I can assure you.'

'Arthur,' Richard said wearily, 'don't be so tiresome. Don't pretend you don't know what we're talking about. It's time you made your own way in life. Mother and I will not continue to subsidise your idle pleasures any longer.You must make something of yourself in uniform, that has been agreed. I have already taken the liberty of broaching the subject with a friend of mine, the Duke of Rutland, who happens to be the lord-lieutenant of Ireland. He has some influence at the War Ministry and is trying to secure a commission for you. We will need to move quickly, before he forgets his promise.'