Young bloods

'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.