Simon Scarrow - Fire and Sword

‘Ah, well, then perhaps Austria’s danger is to our advantage. Napoleon would not be wise to fight on two fronts.’ Buckingham shifted his gaze to the Prime Minister. ‘If the latest reports from the continent are to be believed, Russia is already marching to Austria’s aid. Against the additional forces from Sweden and those we ourselves intend to send to Hanover, what chance has the Emperor? Faced with the threat of defeat, Napoleon will make any peace deal he can get.’

Pitt shook his head wearily.‘You misunderstand our enemy, my lord. Even if Bonaparte did make peace with us, do you imagine he would actually honour the terms of any treaty he put his name to?’

Buckingham looked surprised. ‘He is Emperor of France. His name would be signed on behalf of every man, woman and child of that country.To break the terms of such a treaty would bring down infamy on France.’

‘Infamy?’ Pitt snorted.‘If Britain falls under the heel of this Corsican tyrant, the charge of infamy will be of poor comfort to those who live here.’

Buckingham was silent for a moment before he continued, in a low voice,‘It seems that you have not lost your appetite for war, Mr Pitt. For over ten years now you have been instrumental in keeping our nation in a state of conflict. How much longer must our people be forced to endure this obsession of yours? How many millions of pounds have been expended? How many good men have died because of it?’

Arthur glanced towards the Prime Minister to gauge his reaction to Buckingham’s harsh accusations.There was no anger in Pitt’s expression, nor even a trace of moral indignation, just the weary resolve of a man who had long since committed his life to one end.

‘Sir,’ Arthur intervened. ‘It is the lot of a soldier to face danger on behalf of his country.’

‘Of course it is,’ Buckingham replied soothingly. ‘But there is no virtue in fighting an unnecessary war, particularly when an offer of peace is on the table.’

‘There can be no peace with France,’ said Pitt.‘Not while she is ruled by Bonaparte, and those responsible for the revolution. That is the melancholy truth of the situation, my lord. So there can be no rest for men like Sir Arthur until Bonaparte is defeated once and for all. Now, you may disagree with me on this.That is your privilege. But I assure you, if Britain falls, then we will be ruled by a man who does not tolerate disagreement.Would you have us live under such a tyrant, my lord?’

‘You should not believe everything you read in the London papers,’ Buckingham replied bitterly. ‘The Emperor is open to reason.’

‘I wish you were right. Truly.’ Pitt sighed sadly. ‘But in my heart I know, with certainty, that you are wrong. Since we disagree, I see no purpose in prolonging this discussion. Now, if you will pardon me?’ Pitt bowed his head, stepped back a pace, and turned away to walk slowly across to a group of women clustered around the handsome young Lord Paget. As he approached, the crowd parted and flowed around him while the women glowed with pride at the attention being paid to them by the Prime Minister. Arthur watched him for a moment, noticing that Pitt was clearly exhausted and did little to hide his frailty as his slender shoulders slumped.

‘Come, Sir Arthur!’ Buckingham suddenly grasped his arm and drew Arthur in the opposite direction. ‘A friend of mine wishes to speak to you. I told her you would be here tonight, and you and she have a close friend in common, it would seem.’

Lord Buckingham did not elaborate, and a short while later Arthur found himself being presented to a couple somewhat older than himself.The man was tall and thin and had the reserved air of one who held himself in high regard. Beside him his wife was short and plump, with an ample bosom and bright sparkling eyes that gleamed with an easy-going hint of mischief.

Buckingham bowed to the lady as he made the introductions. ‘Sir Arthur Wellesley, it is my pleasure to present General Charles Sparrow and his charming wife, Olivia.’ Buckingham exchanged a quick smile with the woman and then continued. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me I have to attend to some other guests. I am sure that you will have plenty to say to each other, Olivia, my dear.’

Once their host had moved on General Sparrow gave Arthur a cursory examination. ‘Wellesley? Any relation of the recent Governor General of India?’

‘My brother.’

Mr Sparrow’s wife swatted him playfully. ‘Oh, Charles! You know that perfectly well. Don’t play the fool with the young man.’

‘Oh, very well.’ General Sparrow’s face creased into an amused smile. ‘I’ve heard a great deal about your recent exploits, as it happens.’

‘Really?’

‘Unfortunately, most of it is second hand, gleaned from the letters my wife receives.’

‘Letters?’ Arthur frowned. ‘I’m sorry, I don’t quite understand.’

‘Sir Arthur.’ Olivia took his arm and beamed, revealing two rows of small, sharp-looking teeth.‘I am a firm friend of someone you know, or knew, exceedingly well. Miss Kitty Pakenham, to be precise.’

Arthur stared at her for an instant, a sudden surge of passion coursing through his heart. He swallowed and tried hard to contain his feelings as he tilted his head slightly to one side. ‘Miss Pakenham . . . Kitty. And might I enquire after her health?’

‘I should hope so!’ Olivia Sparrow burst into laughter. ‘Especially since she has written simply volumes to me concerning her feelings regarding you, Sir Arthur.’

‘She has?’ Arthur could not hide his surprise. In the years he had been in India, he and Kitty had exchanged a handful of letters, mostly about the affairs of friends and family and more general news. Arthur adopted a neutral expression. ‘I am sure that you exaggerate, Mrs Sparrow.’

‘Me? Exaggerate?’ She clasped a hand to her breast with a pained look and then quickly broke into another smile. ‘Well, perhaps just a little. But I know the girl’s mind, Sir Arthur, and her heart. She has missed you greatly.You should write to her.’

‘That’s enough, my dear,’ her husband broke in. ‘As ever, you go too far with other people’s confidences.’

Olivia stared meekly at her husband before leaning closer to Arthur and squeezing his hand. ‘Write to her.’

‘Er, yes, of course,’ Arthur replied awkwardly.

General Sparrow cleared his throat. ‘Sir Arthur, as a soldier, tell me, what chance has Bonaparte got of beating the Austrians in the present conflict?’

It was a clumsy attempt to divert the conversation away from his wife’s gossip, but Arthur was grateful not to have to talk about Kitty in front of them. His mind was filled with a jumble of images and emotions, and he needed time to consider his intentions towards her. For now he forced himself to focus on General Sparrow’s question.

‘The Austrians have a large enough army to counter Bonaparte,’ he began. ‘If the Russians join forces with them in time, they will outnumber the French overwhelmingly. I am no expert on the relative merits of the soldiery, but I have heard that the Austrians are well disciplined and brave, and their cavalry is without equal. However, the Frenchman has proved time and again to be a most valiant and hardy individual. He can outmarch any enemy, and fight like a demon at the end of the day. He is also well led by young commanders who can inspire their men to great acts of courage. And then, of course, there is Bonaparte himself.That man is perhaps the most brilliant general of our age. His very presence on the battlefield is worth ten thousand men.’

‘You speak as if you admire him, Sir Arthur.’

‘Admire him?’ Arthur thought for a moment and then shook his head. ‘I might have admired him once, when he was just a soldier. But now? No. He is a tyrant, and all his achievements are mere symptoms of that evil.’