Young bloods

Chapter 72

Spring, 1793

As Arthur Wesley walked his horse up the drive towards Pakenham Hall he felt his heart quicken. On either side the landscaped park stretched out. Only last year it had seemed so inviting. As the backdrop to his developing affection for Kitty it had no equal. Through a thin screen of ancient oak trees the waters of Lough Derravaragh glimmered in the morning sunlight. Close by was an ornamental rosebed that eschewed the geometric perfection of most country parks, and swept across the lawns in a seemingly random manner that was somehow pleasing to the eye. Further off, low hills rolled around the park and basked in a brilliant emerald against the azure sky. A gentle breeze was blowing, tossing the tops of a stand of conifers and rustling through the bare branches of the chestnut trees that lined the drive. Arthur glanced up and almost smiled at the scattering of flawless white clouds that drifted over the land with stately grace.

Over a year ago, when he had first begun officially to court Kitty, the approach to Pakenham Hall filled his heart with a peace and contentment that he had never felt before in his life. All the long years of searching for some kind of purpose to his life, some kind of fulfilment, seemed to be over. In Kitty he had found someone with whom he felt certain he could spend the remainder of his days. Of all the women he had known, only she had provoked that sense of freshness to life that made the prospect of each new day something to be welcomed rather than endured. He would marry Kitty, clear his debts, rent a modest house in Carrington Square, and spend the evenings with his new wife in the parlour, reading or perhaps playing the violin. And then to bed.The thought came at once into his mind, and the scent of her hair and the graceful sweep of her pale neck were almost palpable. An unworthy, unromantic thought, he chided himself, but God, she was beautiful!

Since autumn he had been lost in dreams of matrimony. Each time he rode out to Castlepollard to see Kitty there was always the ecstasy of thinking that she felt as passionately about him. Certainly, the way she looked at him, the contentment she seemed to enjoy in his company, and the occasional kiss she bestowed on him indicated more than a fondness. But when Kitty visited Dublin for one of the endless cycle of balls and picnics, her sparkling wit, and natural beauty drew other officers to her as gaudy bees to a flower.Then every smile she gave them, or sudden burst of delighted laughter, pierced Arthur's heart like a cold steel blade, and the fears of losing her to another man dripped into his mind like poison.

So, he knew the courting must come to an end, one way or another. Either she would be his wife, or… the alternative was too painful to contemplate.

If it had been down to Kitty he was fairly sure that she would consent. She had intimated as much when he had broached the matter a week earlier. The difficulty lay with her brother. Tom Pakenham had inherited the estate in the autumn and was to become an earl when his old and infirm grandmother died. A bright future lay ahead of the young man, and it had understandably gone to his head, Arthur surmised. The prospect of seeing his sister marry a poorly paid army officer with limited scope for any kind of financial or social advancement could not have been appealing. If Arthur was brutally honest with himself, there was no way he would be prepared to see his own sister, Anne, marry below her station for love.The only avenue open to him to try to impress Kitty's stuffy brother was for Arthur to use his seat in parliament to win some kind of a political reputation. Recently he had taken a more prominent role, and spoken against the French people's execution of King Louis. He had also bought a promotion to captain. There had not been so much as one word of grudging praise from Tom Pakenham for Arthur's efforts.

It was clear to Arthur that his stock with the Pakenhams would not rise any further, and that he must risk all and formally ask Tom for the hand of his sister. To which end he had written a most gracious letter asking for an interview to discuss his intentions. Tom had replied in equally gracious terms and invited Captain Arthur Wesley to the Hall. And so he rode up the drive to make the appointment, sick with anxiety that his decision to settle the issue might well result in him losing the chance to wed his beloved Kitty.

The drive curved round a dense growth of rhododendron and there stood Pakenham Hall: an elegant country house with fine views over its landscaped surroundings. Arthur knew that he would never be able to afford the comfort of such a home. He halted his horse for a moment and stared at the Hall. Then he drew a deep breath of the fresh spring air and with a gentle prod from his spurs he urged his horse up the drive towards the main entrance.

Kitty must have seen him approach for he was still some distance off when she came trotting out of the porch, wrapped in a dark cape, and ran towards Arthur. He slid from the saddle, landing with a crunch of gravel, and leading the horse by the reins he strode towards her. As she drew close Kitty looked up and gave him a brilliant smile. For an instant all the doubts and fears of the young officer dissolved in a burst of pure affection and pleasure. Kitty grabbed his arm and pressed herself against his shoulder.

'Arthur! I thought you'd never come!'

He made a show of being disappointed in her lack of faith.'I'm on time, dearest. Punctual almost to the minute.'

'Oh, you!' She punched him lightly on the arm. 'I just meant that I've been waiting in the porch for hours.'

'Hours?'

'Well, it seemed like hours. Anyway,' her tone became more serious, 'you're here now.'

'Yes… Where's Tom?'

'In his study. He's got a few arrears summons to deal with before he'll see you.'

Arthur frowned. This was typical of her brother. Giving priority to some petty difficulties with his tenants over the suitor of his sister was a crude attempt to put his visitor in his place.This latest affront did not bode well. Arthur squeezed her hand under his arm.

'What do you think he will say?'

Kitty shrugged. 'I don't know. Honestly I don't. He's changed so much this last year.'

'Inheriting a fortune has that effect on some men,' Arthur said bitterly, and Kitty gave him a quick glance as he continued, 'He'll refuse me. I feel sure of it. Because I have no money.'

'Not at the moment,' Kitty replied. 'But I know you, Arthur Wesley. I know how much potential you have. One day you'll win your fortune… Not that wealth is important to us,' she added quickly.

Arthur smiled. 'I doubt Tom will be prepared to accept potential as a deposit. To be perfectly honest with you, Kitty, all I can offer you is my love.There is nothing else. Even if I were the heir to my family's name, Dangan Castle is mortgaged, and my mother has had to sell most of her six per cents just to live. All I have is the income from my captaincy and a small allowance from Richard. That's it.'

'That's enough,' Kitty smiled, and kissed him quickly. 'Come on,' she said, tugging his arm. 'It's cold. Let's go inside and sit by the fire.'

As they approached the entrance to the Hall, a groom scurried out from a side entrance and took the reins from Arthur, leading the horse away towards the stables. With Kitty still clutching the sleeve of his bright red uniform coat, they climbed the weathered steps to the main door. Beyond the threshold the familiar smell of polish and a faint dampness wrapped itself round Arthur like an old friend. Kitty released her grip and he followed her across the hall and down the dim corridor towards the library. On the way they passed the closed door to Tom's study and the muffled voice of Kitty's brother could be heard in conversation with his agent. Arthur was tempted to tarry a moment and listen, but quickly dismissed the thought; he was here to make an honest and open appeal for Kitty's hand, not to skulk about like a spy on the scrounge for intelligence.

A log fire glowed in the large iron grate and Kitty led him over to a long couch that faced the fireplace and took full benefit from its heat. A book lay open on the arm of the couch and Arthur recognised it as the copy of Locke's An Essay Concerning Human Understanding he had given Kitty for Christmas. He nodded towards the book.

'Waiting for me all morning, eh?'

'Most of it,' Kitty answered, then blushed. 'Well, it certainly felt like it.There's not many girls I know who'd sit in a freezing porch waiting for their beau to arrive.'

'How many girls do you know?'

'Enough to make such a judgement,' Kitty replied.

'I'm overcome by gratitude.'

'Don't try to be sarcastic, Arthur. It doesn't suit you.' Kitty pouted, then rang a small bell. 'You'll have some tea?'

'Tea? I think I need something a little stronger to calm my nerves.'

'Nerves?' Kitty raised her eyebrows. 'You? I'd never have believed it. Sensitive, yes – but nervous… Arthur Wesley, you are something of a dark horse, I do declare.'

He leaned closer to her and stared frankly into her eyes. 'Please, Kitty, don't tease me so. I've never been more serious, nor had so much at stake, in my entire life.'

She stared back at him in silence for a moment and then reached a hand up and stroked his cheek.'Bless you, my dear, dear Arthur.You really do love me, don't you?'

He nodded, and said softly, 'And you? Tell me it's true, what I hope you feel. Tell me.'

She smiled and her lips parted. 'I-'

The door to the library creaked open and the two of them quickly moved apart. A maid entered and stood waiting for instruction.

'I'll have some tea, Mary.'

'Yes, Miss Pakenham.'

'And a brandy for the captain.'

'Yes, Miss Pakenham.'

As soon as the maid had left the room Arthur leaned back towards Kitty, but the spell had been broken and she looked embarrassed, her eyes darting round the library, lighting upon an ivory chess set on a card table.

'Chess! Let's have a game of chess while you wait for Tom.'

'Chess?' Arthur repeated weakly. 'Must we?'

'Yes, we must. Come.'

And so they sat down to a game, in the winter sunshine that slanted in through the library window. Arthur's troubled mind could not focus on the game and he was in a hopeless position in fairly short order.

'I thought soldiers were supposed to be good at tactics,' Kitty grinned, over the top of a fine china cup. 'God help us if you are representative of the men who will lead our armies if there is a war.'

Kitty took another sip and set the cup down delicately. 'Do you think there will be a war, Arthur?'

'There will be a war, Kitty. We cannot avoid it any longer. Those French radicals must be stopped. Otherwise England will endure the same bloodshed. Not now, perhaps, but some day soon.'

'Tom says that if it comes to war, it will be the longest and bloodiest that England has ever fought.'

'He's probably right,' Arthur replied.'He generally thinks he is, even when he's mistaken.'

'Careful, Arthur, we are talking about my brother, after all.'

'Sorry.' Arthur quickly returned the conversation to safer ground. 'If there is a war, then the French must lose. France is like any other country. It cannot endure without a king, and the nobility. Who else could lead them? It is not in the nature of the common folk to rule themselves. They need us more than we need them.We are what gives structure and security to their lives.'

'You seem very sure of it,' Kitty frowned.

Arthur picked up his queen and advanced it. 'Check.'

Kitty's eyes dropped to the chessboard. She thought a moment and shook her head.

'Poor Arthur… There.' Her hand shifted a bishop in between her king and the queen. 'Your queen's pinned. You'll have to sacrifice her, and then it's mate in… two.'

'What?' Arthur frowned at the pieces and he was about to protest when the door opened again. A footman entered.

'Captain Wesley, sir.'

'Yes.'

'The master will see you now, sir. If you'll follow me.'

Arthur rose from the table and before he moved away, Kitty grasped his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. 'Good luck.'

Tom Pakenham was rearranging the ledgers on his desk and did not deign to look up as his guest entered the study.

'Wesley! Good of you to come. Take a seat.'

There was no seat near the desk and Arthur had to take one from the secretary's desk in the far corner and carry it across the room. He set it down directly opposite Kitty's brother and sat, with an erect back, and waited.

Tom dipped a quill and started to write out a note. 'Be with you in a moment…'

A silence grew in the musty-smelling study, broken only by the scratching of the quill.Arthur seethed with fury at this cavalier treatment, but for Kitty's sake, and therefore his own, he kept his tongue still and did not move. At length Tom pushed the document to one side, lowered his quill and smiled at his guest.

'There, I'm done! You wouldn't believe how much time I spend on those bloody tenants.'

'I have had some experience. I looked after my brother Richard's affairs when he left for England. Besides, times are hard. The farmers are having a difficult enough time feeding their own even before they can pay the rent.'

Tom gave him a hard look. 'You sound just like one of those radical Frenchies.'

'Nothing could be further from the truth, Tom.'

Kitty's brother leaned back in his chair. 'Anyway, Wesley, I expect you've come here for permission to marry young Kitty.'

'I have.'

'What reason have I to consent to this request?'

'There is a mutual affection between us. I could make her happy.'

'Affection? Happiness? They're all very well, but what prospects have you, man? Eh? What prospects? You're just a captain. Do you think my sister can live on your pay?'

It was precisely the argument that Arthur had expected and he had prepared his response.'I have written to my brother to ask for a loan to purchase a major's commission. He has agreed.That will mean more pay. Sufficient to look after us for the present.'

'And the future? I assume you'll want children. What then?'

'It'll take time before I can afford a colonelcy,' Arthur admitted. 'Unless, of course, there is a war. In which case I will be in prime position for rapid promotion without having to purchase further commissions.'

'Indeed? You rate yourself highly. Perhaps too highly. As it happens, I have made some detailed enquiries into your character and background. No conscientious brother would do any less,' Tom justified himself quickly. 'It seems that your superiors are unaware of any outstanding qualities in you. Moreover, I understand that you already have substantial debts. Should you buy a major's commission, then any advance in pay will be set against yet more debt arising from the purchase of the rank.'Tom smiled. 'I'm sure you see my difficulty here, Arthur. I believe you may be a good man, and Kitty certainly entertains a fondness for you, but I cannot permit her to squander her affections on a junior officer with few prospects of promotion and a vastly greater prospect of impoverishment.'

Arthur clenched his teeth tightly for an instant, before he dared to respond in a strained cordial tone.'As I said, if war comes, I will have prospects.'

'If war comes, you will be sent into action. A battlefield is at least as dangerous a place as a Dublin drinking house.' Tom smiled. 'In any case, if you go to war, there's a good chance you won't come back. Do you wish Kitty to wear black so soon after she wears white?'

Arthur's eyes fell. 'No.'

With a rhetorical flourish Tom raised a palm as if he was a lawyer, summing up a conclusive presentation of evidence. Then he was silent.

Arthur felt angry, heart-broken and physically sick, but had just enough control over his wits to keep his face expressionless. He looked up, his bright blue eyes boring into his host.

'Would you deny me her hand in marriage then, Pakenham?'

'I would.'

'Why?'

'Why?'Tom raised his eyebrows in surprise. 'For all the reasons I've already given, and more besides. Wesley, the simple and plain truth of the matter is that you are not good enough for my sister. Not good enough now. Not good enough ever. And when Kitty comes to her senses she'll see that.'

Arthur felt his veins fill with a cold fury as Tom spoke of his sister in such mercenary terms.

'Kitty loves me.'

'She's said so?'

'She has.' Arthur stared at him defiantly. 'We could be married without your consent.'

It was a desperate and ungentlemanly threat, but it was all that he could think of. Tom's lips twisted into a contemptuous sneer. He nodded, leaned forward over the desk, and lowered his voice to a menacing growl. 'You could. I'd cut her dead, of course, and you, I'd ruin.You have my word that I'd devote all my energies to that end. Don't even think of doing it, Wesley.'

Tom sat back and pointed to the door.'I want you to leave.You have my answer. There's no more to be said.'

Arthur's mind reeled, searching desperately for some argument he had not yet used, but Tom was right – there was nothing more to say. Nothing. It was over and he had lost Kitty. Lost everything that mattered to him. Rising from the chair, he bowed his head.

'Goodbye, Pakenham.'

'Goodbye, Wesley.'

He turned and strode out of the study, closing the door loudly behind him. He didn't return to the library but marched straight for the front door and down the steps, and towards the stables.The groom was already waiting with his horse, as if he had been expecting the captain to be leaving shortly. Behind him footsteps crunched on the gravel.

'Arthur! Arthur, wait!'

He paused, and turned round slowly. Kitty drew up short as she saw the terrible pain in his expression.

'Oh, no…'

'I'm sorry, Kitty.'

'No.Wait.You wait here. I'll speak to him.' She turned and ran back to the entrance, calling back one last time. 'Wait!'

But Arthur knew it was pointless. Tom Pakenham would not change his mind. He had opposed the marriage right from the start, as Arthur now realised with bitter awareness. He just wasn't good enough for Kitty.The words stung him like a blow. Because they were true. He snatched the reins from the groom and threw himself up into the saddle. He applied the spurs savagely and, with a spray of loose gravel, he turned his back on Pakenham Hall for ever and galloped away down the drive.

By the time he had returned to his lodgings in Dublin, his anger had died away, and there was only a dull aching despair in his heart. He climbed the stairs to his room and closed and locked the door behind him. Outside night had fallen and the orange flicker of a streetlamp lined his window frame. It was cold and Arthur lit a candle and quickly made up the fire. Soon a warm, wavering glow filled the room and he sat on a stool and stared into the heart of the burning coals.With Kitty gone from his life, what was left? What was he to do? Arthur glanced round at his room, and realised just how sick of it he had become. How sick of the boorish fools who filled the viceroy's court.

His eyes wandered to the violin propped up in the far corner, and with a faint smile, he rose from the stool and fetched the instrument. For a moment, he plucked the strings absent-mindedly. Then, raising the bow, he began to play. As the thin notes filled the air Arthur closed his eyes and let his mind roam back to childhood. Back to Dangan; the music room and his father proudly presenting him with this very violin; the delighted applause of his family as he entertained them all for the first time.

As he played, his mind wandered freely.

The revolutionary madness in France would now spill across its borders and threaten the rest of the world with its contagion. It must be stopped if order, if civilisation itself, were to endure. The French king was dead, murdered by his own people, and England would have no choice but to go to war. In that event would Kitty be safe here in Ireland with its restless native population of Catholic farmers? Wolfe Tone was already plotting a bloody insurrection from exile in France. France again. Always France. She must be crushed before she crushed other nations under her bloody heel.

Arthur lifted his violin and slowly lowered himself on to the stool. He stared into the red flames and saw that the world was changing. Unless men acted now, a new dark age of mob savagery would crush the whole of Europe in its embrace. With a start he realised that he would be amongst those men called upon in this hour of destiny, and he feared that he would be found wanting. Tom Pakenham had touched a raw nerve when he had said that Arthur was not good enough. He was right. Arthur was not good enough for Kitty, and he was not good enough for the challenges that lay ahead.

He nodded slowly. Then he must better himself, and prove worthy of his family's name. He had lost Kitty and must devote himself to serving the ends of his country and his people. Nothing else mattered now. All that occupied him before was diversion, a distraction, and all must be sacrificed to his new purpose in life.

Arthur's eyes fell to the violin he cradled in his lap.The warm polished wood was smooth and familiar to his touch. It had been his for nearly fifteen years, his companion and his source of comfort and pleasure away from all the other burdens of his life. In that thin shell of wood lived countless memories that now weighed down on him, until he suddenly knew what he must do, and do now. Standing up, he stepped towards the fire and holding the neck of the instrument, he placed it on to the burning coals. For a moment the violin rested in the wavering flames.Then with a yellow flare the varnish caught and longer flames eagerly played over its elegant curves. As the cherry-red veneer darkened to black and cracked, tears pricked out of Arthur's eyes and slowly rolled down his cheeks.