'No point, Arthur. He's well beyond help now, and we're late. If we're not at Fitzpatrick's by the appointed hour then my sweet Mary will have found herself another man for the night. Let's go.'

Arthur took a last look at the body, wincing as blood trickled around the cobbles towards the gutter. Then he straightened up and hurried after his friend.

With the arrival of summer the vicereine gave fewer b.a.l.l.s and instead concentrated on planning and holding fine picnics in the surrounding countryside. Before he began to attend these events Arthur had conceived of picnics as being largely informal affairs consisting of a hurriedly packed picnic basket in response to a spontaneous call to take advantage of a hot summer's day. His parents and brothers and sisters would go scrambling across the fields around Dangan until a quiet spot was found by a stream in which they could cool their bare feet as they ate bread and cold meats and cheeses. By contrast the picnics organised by the vicereine amounted to a complex culinary campaign that would have rivalled a military exercise in the demands it placed upon staff officers to co-ordinate movements of guests, supplies of food and entertainments.These arrangements tended to keep the aides fully occupied for days at a time, and Arthur could not help thinking that they represented her revenge on the awkward squad of Dublin Castle.

On picnic days, the carts and wagons of those hired to prepare the food arrived at the spot chosen before the vicereine's guests arrived. Tents were set up, orchestras tuned their instruments in the shade of trees and vast amounts of cold meats and delicacies prepared.

The general high spirits amongst those who attended the picnics thoroughly infected Arthur, and he was often to be discovered talking at the top of his voice to his cronies. Once he had taken a few drinks the alcohol brought out a malevolent mischief in him, and many picnics were spoiled for some by finding some rather unpleasant wildlife in their picnic hampers. Or he might push someone into a river, or inform their coach drivers that their vehicles were no longer needed, so that the owners faced a long walk back into Dublin.

Eventually the vicereine had had enough and summoned Lieutenant Wesley to her private apartments at the start of August. Arthur knocked on the doors to her rooms and was shown to her office by a footman.

'Lieutenant Wesley to see you,Your Grace.'

'Show him in.'

The footman beckoned and Arthur marched through the door and stood to attention as the footman closed the doors gently behind him and left his mistress and her guest alone.The vicereine was an elegant lady some years older than Arthur and considerably wiser. She sat at a small escritoire and quickly finished a note she was writing on a sheet of vellum, before closing the lid of her inkwell and setting her pen down. She gazed at him for a while until Arthur became uncomfortable and his mind raced with ideas about the reason for this summons to a private interview.

'Sit down, Lieutenant.'

'Yes,Your Grace.' He pulled up one of the chairs that lined the room, ready for the intimate recitals that she sometimes held here.

'Arthur, if I may call you that?'

He nodded.The resort to his first name did not bode well and he swallowed nervously.

'Arthur, do you know why you are here?'

'No, Your Grace.' He recognised the strategy and felt like a naughty schoolboy caught out by his teacher.

She smiled briefly. 'Behaviour is what I wish to discuss with you. Namely, your behaviour - or lack of it, I should say.'

'Your Grace? I'm not sure I understand.'

'I hope you do,Arthur, because it is the only way in which you may be redeemed. Frankly, I am tired of the ceaseless pranks that you play on some of the guests at my picnics.'

'I do not mean to cause offence,Your Grace.'

'You do worse than that, Arthur.You cause annoyance.You are like a small spoiled brat of a boy, the kind that does his utmost to ruin birthday parties and that sort of thing. Just to gain attention. Well, now you have my attention and all I can say is that I am beginning to wish that my husband had never consented to your brother's request that you become an aide. It's a shame, a great shame, for I like nothing more than to be surrounded by handsome, charming men like yourself. I can see that you have potential, but at present, this boorish behaviour of yours will not do. Do you understand?'

'Yes,Your Grace. I apologise most humbly.'

'Arthur, I'm not interested in your apologies. I'm only interested in having untroubled picnics. To which end I would appreciate it if you would not attend any more social events until the end of the summer. It would be best for all concerned. You may use the time to consider whether you really do deserve a place here at the castle, or whether you might be better off in another, more remote, posting. Do I make myself clear?'

'Yes,Your Grace.'

'Then go. I've had quite enough of you for now.'

Chapter 47.

To the delight of the vicereine Arthur Wesley heeded her advice and began to mature into the kind of responsible gentleman that she prided in having at her court. No longer was there an endless stream of complaints about his behaviour. To be sure, there were still a few occasions when he annoyed some local dignitary or other, but no more so than the rest of the members of her 'awkward squad'. Indeed, by the end of the year something of a transformation had occurred and now Arthur was once again welcomed to the b.a.l.l.s where he danced gracefully, drank modestly and conversed in a mature and engaging fashion.

As Christmas approached he arranged to meet his brother William for lunch in the latter's club on Eustace Street. As soon as he stepped through the doors of Coulter's, Arthur was aware of an unusually quiet and calm atmosphere, totally at odds with most of the places he tended to frequent with the other officers from the castle. Of course, he thought, that was entirely in keeping with William's character. The man was so earnest in his ambitions that he had contrived to live wholly within the bounds of respectability and sobriety.

'Arthur, over here,' William called out as loudly as he dared from his table over by the window. There were a few others dining quietly and they looked up irritably at the sound of a raised voice, before continuing with their meals. Arthur crossed the room to join his brother. William rose to his feet, they shook hands formally and sat down.

'So, William, what news?'

'News? Does there have to be a reason why one brother asks another to lunch?'

'No reason. It's just that you haven't invited me here before. So I a.s.sume that you need to tell me something.'

'Indeed,' William admitted, then fished in his pocket and brought out a letter. 'From our mother in London.'

Arthur regarded the letter for a moment and then looked round and signalled for the waiter to come and take his order.

'Aren't you going to read it?' asked William.

'Why should I? She wrote to you.You tell me what it says.That would be quicker.'

The waiter came up to the table with a deferential nod of his head. 'Sir?'

Arthur glanced up. 'I'll have some lunch. How is the pork done in this place?'

'Cooked in port, sir. Soused.'

'I can imagine. I'll have some of that to start with.'

'Very good, sir. And to drink?'

'William, what are you having?'

'Nothing at the moment.'

'Good, then you can join me in a Madeira.'

'Yes, sir.' The waiter snapped his order book shut before turning away and making his way across the room to the kitchen.

'I suppose that's going on my bill?' William muttered.

'Why not? You can afford it.'

'I can, and I won't deny it.The reason I can afford the wine is that I look after my money, unlike my wastrel brother. Brothers, I should say.'

'What do you mean?'

'Read the letter for yourself.'

'Just tell me.'

William sighed. 'It's Richard. The fool's taken up with some foreign woman who is bleeding him dry. Getting himself into terrible debt. It's a bad business. Doesn't reflect well on the family.'

'A veritable model of n.o.ble behaviour, our Richard,' Arthur replied wryly.

William stared at him for a moment before shaking his head in exasperation. 'Glib, as ever.'

'But true.'

William shrugged. 'It's irrelevant. To return to the topic of the family's finances, if I may . . . ?'

'Please.'

'I know you have some debts, but we have to concentrate on handling Richard's before his creditors start to take action. I have already acted on his behalf to mortgage the Dangan estate.'

Arthur looked at him sharply. 'Dangan, mortgaged?'

'It had to be done, Arthur. I had to raise some capital to pay off his immediate debts. There's just enough capital left to service the debt for perhaps another ten years. After that, there's only a small sum in equities between us and financial ruin. You see,' he leaned closer to Arthur, 'we have to start building careers. All of us, if the family is to continue. Richard's political career is going well in London. As soon as he bags one of the great offices of state he should be able to find a few sinecures to guarantee a stable future. I've decided to follow him to Westminster. Partly to support him, but also to try to make my own way there.'

'But you're already the member for Trim.'

William nodded. 'It has served its purpose. I need to move on. Therefore I'll be resigning from the seat sometime in the new year. I'll be taking most of my belongings with me, but you're welcome to what's left behind. You might want to move into Merrion Street once I've gone.'

'You are too kind, William.'

Wiliam shrugged. 'Please yourself. The offer was well meant.'

'I'm sure it was. Thank you. No, really. I mean it.'

William stared at him a moment in an attempt to discern if he was being mocked, then he nodded. 'I'm pleased to help you in any way that I can, Arthur.'

'Really?' Arthur smiled. 'Actually, there is one other favour I'd like to ask of you.'

'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 gla.s.s 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 pa.s.sing 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.'