Текст книги "Fire and Sword"

Автор книги: Simon Scarrow

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 13 (всего у книги 44 страниц)

Chapter 18

Dublin, April 1806

The ship from Bristol fought its way across the Irish Sea to Dublin in the teeth of a spring gale and Arthur was gripped by seasickness as the vessel lurched from end to end, accompanied by a pitching and rolling motion that made his stomach churn violently. Unlike most of the other passengers who remained huddled down in their tiny fetid cabins below deck, Arthur preferred to be in the fresh air where he could see the horizon and use it as a fixed point to give him some sense of control over his nausea. Not that it worked all the time, as every so often the ship would soar or swoop without any warning and the sickness would return with a vengeance.

‘Good day to you, Sir Arthur!’ a voice called out cheerily, and Arthur turned to see Captain Acock striding up the deck towards him. His years at sea had accustomed him to the motions of the ship, to which he adjusted his pace with confidence. ‘Bit of a breeze today, I think.’

‘Bit of a breeze?’ Arthur shook his head ruefully. ‘I shall never understand what you sailors enjoy about your profession.’

‘Oh, it’s not so bad, sir.’ The captain laughed. ‘There’s nothing like cutting your ties with the land and setting out into the wild.’

Arthur nodded. Perhaps there was something to be said for such a life, though it had its own dangers.‘I think, on the whole, that I’d rather avoid sailing through such tempests as this.’

‘Tempest, you say?’ The captain smiled and shook his head, blinking as a shower of spray drenched them both.‘Hardly.This weather is typical for the time of year, sir.You get used to it. I dare say that you’ve not had much experience of sea travel, then?’

‘Oh, I’ve had my share, and my fill. I’ve been out to India and back.’

The captain turned to glance at him with raised eyebrows. ‘India. Now that’s real sailing. I’ve only ever crossed the Atlantic, on the Jamaica run. Some hard times in those days, I can tell you. But I’ve only ever heard sailors’ stories about the passage to India. Not many men do that in their lifetime, sir.’

‘Nor should they,’ Arthur replied with feeling as he recalled the cramped accommodation, the week-long storms, the lack of fresh food and above all the raw agony of the days, and sometimes weeks, before one found one’s sea legs and grew accustomed to the motion of the ship. The very thought had him gripping the side rail tightly as he struggled with another wave of giddy nausea.

‘So, what’s your business in Dublin then, sir?’ the captain continued in a light tone.

Arthur swallowed and replied through gritted teeth.‘I’m going to be married. My intended is waiting for me in Dublin.’

‘Is she now?’The captain grinned.‘Ah well, a fine city to be married in, sir.’

‘Not in this weather.’

The captain raised his eyes to the grey clouds rolling over the white-capped sea.‘It’ll blow itself out soon. Like as not the moment we dock.’

‘With my fortune, I’d imagine so.’

‘Are you planning on living in Ireland, sir?’

‘Certainly not. I can think of few climates I’d rather avoid. No, the moment we are wed, and have had a honeymoon, I will be bringing my wife back to London with me.’

‘Ah well,’ Captain Acock mused; then a swinging motion aloft caught his eye and he turned away from the rail. ‘Beg your pardon, sir, I must attend to my ship. Hope you have a fine wedding then, sir.’

He made his way across the deck to the foredeck gangway and bellowed an order to one of his sailors to go aloft and secure a loose block. Arthur had no desire to watch a man clamber up the rigging in such rough seas, and kept his gaze resolutely on the horizon as he fixed his thoughts on Kitty once again. Kitty would be the same Kitty he had delighted in and loved all those years before. She would be as opinionated and mischievous as ever, and there would be the same bright twinkle in her eye and the same becoming bloom in the rounded cheeks he had so loved to kiss on the few occasions it had been permitted. And he would love her just as before. They would be married, and live happily, he resolved.

The gale had moderated by the time the ship approached the dockside on the Liffey, but even as the wind dropped the rain continued to fall in an icy downpour that exploded off the surface of the river like newly minted coins. The passengers had all come up on deck to view the approach to the city and huddled in their coats and hats as they stared out at the slick walls and roofs of Dublin under a leaden sky. Using staysails and reefed topsails the captain eased his ship in towards the wharf, and then gave the order to loose sheets before letting the forward motion of the vessel carry it the remaining distance. Ropes were cast ashore to the dockers who looped them round the mooring posts and drew the ship in until it rested gently against the tarred hessian fenders.

Shortly afterwards the passengers wearily descended the gangplank, desperately grateful to be back on firm land. Arthur hired a porter to carry his travelling chest and set off for Gerald’s house. Dublin did not seem to have changed much since Arthur had last seen it. He recognised many of the same shops, taverns and clubs that he had frequented in the days when he had served as an aide to the Viceroy at Dublin Castle. There were some new names on the shopfronts and there was the same mix of poverty and affluence amongst those he passed by, but there was something lacking in the ambience.The streets were less crowded than he remembered, and somehow less spirited.

By the time he reached the house, Arthur was soaked through. He stood dripping in the hall as he paid off the porter and handed his coat to a servant.The sound of footsteps on the stairs caused him to turn and he saw his younger brother, Gerald, descending to greet him with a broad smile.

‘My goodness, did you swim all the way here?’

‘Very funny,’ Arthur grumbled. ‘I imagine your sermons must be the very model of wit.’

‘Now, now, don’t take on so. I’m delighted to see you again.’ Gerald grasped his hand and shook it warmly. ‘Especially to celebrate such a happy event. It’s about time you took a wife, Arthur.’

‘Is it?’ Arthur mopped the rain from his brow. ‘That’s what everyone seems to say to a man of my age. Still, maybe they have a point. A man must have heirs and someone to care for him. And someone to care for.’

‘Of course.’ Gerald stepped back and looked his brother up and down. Arthur’s skin still had a faint brown hue from so many years exposed to the burning Indian sun, and his hair was cut closely enough to subdue any hint of the wavy curls that he had worn before he went overseas. He was thin, but in a sinewy, fit way that few men of his years managed to retain as they surrendered to the temptations of good living and complacency. Gerald smiled to himself and gestured towards the door leading to the front room. A coal fire glowed in the grate and Arthur stood in front of it and held his hands out towards the flickering flames, relishing the warmth.

‘I’ll have some dry clothes found for you.Would you like something to eat and drink?’

Arthur nodded. ‘I’d be very grateful, thank you.’

Gerald turned towards the door and was on his way out of the room when Arthur said quickly, ‘Gerald, I forgot to say, it is good to see you again too. And I am so very grateful that you are going to perform the service.’

What are brothers for?’ Gerald laughed lightly and left Arthur alone by the fire.

Half an hour later, as the two sat on either side of the hearth, Arthur finished the platter of cold meats, cheese and bread that had been brought to him. He drained the last of the Madeira from his glass and sat back in his dry clothes, contented.The shutters had been closed and muffled the sound of the rain pattering against the window panes.

‘I imagine you are delighted to return to civilisation after so many years amongst the natives of India,’ said Gerald.

‘It is said that travel broadens the mind.’

‘But does it though, Arthur? Can you truly say that you are a better man because you have seen the world?’

‘Not better, perhaps. But wiser. I feel that I know the minds of other men more fully than I did, and I know my own mind more clearly. So I suppose I am glad I have experienced something of the world.’

‘And yet here you are, back in Britain, and now about to take a wife from amid the self-same stock that you were raised amongst.That seems to be a refutation of the wider world if ever I heard it.’

‘That is unfair, brother. How can a man truly value what he has until he has seen the depths and the heights of human activity? Gerald, how can you know for certain that the immediate world around you is all that is good? Surely you could only know that if you had the chance to compare it to something else?’

‘If you love your country, and you have faith, then what need is there to strive to make such a comparison?’

‘Sometimes I wish I could see things as you do, Gerald. I wish that I could have faith in the goodness of men. I wish that I could understand God’s will in all the suffering that I have witnessed.’ Arthur paused a moment. ‘What I crave is some certainty in my life. The certainty of feeling. The security of a home and the chance to raise a family. Once that is gained then a man has something he can believe in. Something that is truly worth fighting for.’

‘And you think Kitty will provide you with that, when you marry her tomorrow?’

‘I hope so,’ Arthur replied thoughtfully. ‘If not her, then who?’

The following morning Arthur hurriedly bought himself a fine set of clothes and arranged to hire a carriage for the week-long honeymoon he had decided on. They would be driven round the places he had known as a child, where he and Kitty had been together before Arthur left for India. It would help to rekindle memories of the times that had meant so much to them both, or so Arthur reasoned.

At noon, Arthur and Gerald set out from the house for the short walk to the rather more imposing Pakenham residence on Russell Square. Arthur felt more tense than ever, but said nothing of it as he responded to his brother’s light-hearted small talk. For the first time in days the skies had cleared and a bright sun bathed the world in its warm glow. Arthur wondered if this might be a good omen.The people they passed on the streets were in good spirits and exchanged greetings with complete strangers in a cheerful manner. On arriving at the square the brothers paused to quickly examine each other’s appearance. Gerald was wearing a simple black frock coat and his clerical collar was just visible. He carried his Bible, prayer book and other religious accoutrements in a large leather bag.

‘Well?’ said Arthur. ‘How do I look?’

Gerald cocked an eyebrow. ‘To be sure, I am not certain whether I will be officiating at a wedding or a funeral.You might try smiling a little.’

Arthur took a calming breath and tried to compose his expression into that of a happy and contented man. ‘Any better?’

‘It will serve,’ said Gerald. ‘Come.’

They crossed the square and approached the Pakenhams’ house.The front door had been decorated with white ribbon that looped across the fanlight and it was evident that their approach had been watched, since the door swung open even as they were climbing the steps from the street. A footman bowed his head and gestured for them to enter.

‘Sir Arthur, Mr Wellesley, the service is being held in the drawing room. If you would follow me?’

They stepped inside and the footman led them down the hall. More ribbon adorned the chandeliers and freshly cut flowers filled urns that lined the length of the hall. At the end, double doors opened on to a large room with high ceilings and long windows overlooking the neat garden behind the house. A score of chairs had been arranged in rows in front of a makeshift altar. A handful of Kitty’s closest friends and relatives were already seated, and turned to glance curiously as the groom and his brother entered. Arthur nodded a curt greeting and then went and sat on one of the two chairs that had been set for bride and groom to one side of the altar. Gerald sat beside him and they waited in silence, until Arthur found it too awkward not to speak.

‘She must know we have arrived,’ he said quietly.‘Why is she keeping us waiting?’

‘Because she can,’ Gerald replied with an amused expression. ‘The woman’s prerogative, Arthur. I’ve seen this sort of thing at countless weddings. Don’t worry yourself, she will join us when she is good and ready.’

‘Woman’s prerogative be damned. I’ll not have my time wasted in this fashion.’

‘Arthur, calm down. It’s quite natural to be nervous before the ceremony.’

‘It’s not nerves, damn it. I just don’t see any need for a delay.’

‘Arthur, this is a marriage ceremony, not an army drill. It’s probably not a good idea to confuse the two if you want a lifetime of married bliss.’

Arthur clamped his lips together and folded his arms, staring rigidly ahead as the clock on the mantelpiece behind the altar ticked away.The other guests did their best to ignore his mood and talked in muted tones. An hour after the Wellesley brothers had arrived, and twenty minutes after the service had been due to begin, Tom Pakenham appeared at the door to the drawing room and cleared his voice.‘Ladies, gentlemen, my sister is ready to join us.’

‘Not before time,’ Arthur whispered.

‘Shh!’ Gerald nudged him, then rose to take his place before the tiny congregation who had come to witness the wedding of Arthur and Kitty. Tom waited at the door and a moment later was joined by his sister. Arthur turned his head and looked directly at her. His first reaction was to deny that this woman could possibly be Kitty. She was as thin as a stick, with sunken cheeks and eyes, and her hair, though still brown, was wispy and had lost the unruly curls of her youth. Only her lips, and something of her eyes, even reminded him of the Kitty he had known, and at that moment Arthur realised he had made a mistake.The most awful mistake of his life. What made it worse was the dawning realisation that there would be no undoing of this mistake. He could not withdraw from his commitment to marry her any more than he could stop drawing breath.

‘My God,’ he muttered under his breath. ‘She has grown ugly.’

Gerald glanced sharply at him, then turned to the bride and her brother, who was to give her away, with a welcoming smile. Kitty smiled back nervously and then squinted slightly as she stared at Arthur. Her smile flickered a moment, and for all his misgivings Arthur could not help but smile back rather than hurt the poor creature as he rose to his feet along with the other guests.

Tom Pakenham offered his arm to his sister, and led her towards the altar. When they drew up abreast of Arthur, Tom released her and stepped aside as Gerald raised his hands and began.

‘Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here to join together this man and this woman . . .’

As his brother continued with the ritual Arthur stared straight ahead, as if he was on a parade ground. Inside he felt his heart sink like a lead weight in mud.The years had settled on Kitty like a tattered shroud and the passion that he had once felt for her so strongly taunted him as a mirage taunts a thirsty man in the desert. On the periphery of his vision he sensed her sidelong glances at him, and he wondered if she felt the same way about him. Perhaps the years had been kind to neither of them. In that thought he managed to find some small scrap of hope. Even if their looks had faded, then surely their personalities would have escaped the ravages of time? Arthur clung to that belief as the ceremony wore on, and spoke his lines in a wooden manner that would have disgraced the very poorest of actors.

At length the service came to an end and Gerald pronounced them man and wife. The words fell heavily on Arthur’s ears and as he turned to face Kitty he forced himself to smile. He took her hands in his, and sensed her tremble.

‘There, my dear.As I promised all those years ago, I have married you the moment I was deemed suitable.’

Kitty smiled shyly. ‘I always dreamed you would.’

‘Thank you, my dear.You have no idea how much that means to me.’

Kitty blushed, and Arthur gently dipped his head towards her. Kitty closed her eyes as her lips pressed forward, but Arthur kissed her quickly on the cheek and withdrew. Kitty’s eyes flickered open and she looked at him with a faintly hurt expression.

Tom Pakenham cleared his throat again and announced that refreshments were available in the dining room.

‘Excellent!’ said Arthur.‘I’m quite famished. Come on, my dear Kitty!’

He slipped his arm through hers and led the guests out of the drawing room and down the hall towards the dining room, before she could think of kissing him again.

The wedding’s informality meant that speeches were kept to a minimum, and once a light meal had been eaten, the couple toasted and the cake cut, the newly-weds were escorted out to the carriage that Arthur had hired for their honeymoon.They climbed aboard amid the congratulations of the guests, and some of the passers-by, and once the door was closed the driver flicked his whip and the horses lurched forward. Inside Kitty and Arthur were jolted against each other and shared a quick laugh of embarrassment before they stared at each other, uncertain of what to say.

‘That was a beautiful wedding,’ Arthur blurted out finally, and then hurriedly groped for the most appropriate sentiment to express. ‘And this is the best day of my life.You have made me a very proud and happy man, my dearest Kitty.’

She looked at him, her expression flitting between doubt and hope, and then she took his hand and squeezed it.‘Arthur, this feels so strange. I feel I know you and yet I don’t.’ She paused and swallowed nervously. ‘And I fear that I disappoint you.’

Arthur kissed her, on the lips this time, and made himself linger there a moment before drawing back. ‘My darling, I have waited for this moment for all these years. How could you possibly disappoint me?’

Kitty smiled briefly and turned to look out of the window.‘I will do my best to be a good wife to you, dear Arthur. I will try to be worthy of the faith you place in me, and the honour you do me by holding to the promise you made so many years ago.’

‘Kitty, it is you who honour me.’

‘Shh! I know the truth of the situation. Just promise me that you will be fair and honest with me. I could not bear to be hurt by you, Arthur.’

‘I promise, my darling,’ Arthur replied as earnestly as he could, and then he turned to stare out of the other window as the carriage rumbled through the cobbled streets of Dublin, closed in on both sides by tall drab buildings that mocked the unblemished blue heavens above.

They stopped for the first night at an inn on the road to Dangan and ate a cheap but hearty stew in the small back room reserved for the better sort of guest. The landlord built up a small fire and then left them alone with their meal and a jug of his best ale. The conversation was stilted at first, and then, as they shifted the topic of conversation on to the times they had shared many years ago, a genuine warmth entered their exchanges. For Arthur it went some way towards rekindling affection for Kitty, but every time he looked closely at her there was only a shadow of the young woman he had known, and it was hard to stem the growing sense of lost opportunities as the evening wore on.

At length, they finished the meal and there was an awkward silence before Kitty cleared her throat.

‘I think I will go and prepare for bed, my dear. I won’t be long. Give me a quarter of an hour before you join me.’

‘Yes. As you wish.’

They exchanged a brief, embarrassed smile, then Kitty turned and hurried from the room, leaving Arthur alone in the warm glow of the dying fire. He stared at the embers, wondering at the perverse combination of honour and indolence had led him into this predicament.There had been chances to avoid it. He could have ignored Olivia Sparrow’s entreaties to renew the correspondence. He could have taken up Kitty’s offer to meet her before committing himself to marriage. He could even have walked out of the ceremony. But the more he considered these things the more clearly he saw that he was a man driven by a sense of duty. Duty in all things. He could no more have abandoned his obligations to Kitty than he could abandon his obligations to King and country. Once set on a path he would travel it all the way to the end and apply himself to overcoming every obstacle set before him.

With a sigh he drew out his pocket watch and marked that nearly half an hour had elapsed since Kitty had gone to bed. He put the watch away, drained the last dregs of his ale and rose from the table. Outside, he passed the landlord as the latter wiped down his counter.

‘Good night, sir.’ The landlord smiled knowingly. ‘I hope you and your bride will be comfortable.’

Arthur felt something give way inside and felt the urge to snap at the landlord and tell him to mind his own damned business. But just as quickly as the urge arose, he mastered it and suppressed his anger.

‘Thank you,’ he said coolly. ‘I am sure we will. Good night.’

There was a narrow flight of stairs to the few rooms the inn provided as guest accommodation and Arthur paused as he stood outside the door of the room he had rented. He looked at the brass handle gleaming dully in the light of the candle flickering in a wall bracket. Then, stiffening his resolve, he entered the room. It was a modest size with clean plaster walls. A large bed rested against the far wall, and a candle burned in a holder on the small table to one side. Under the thick bedcovers he could make out the slender shape of Kitty, lying quite still. Her nightcap covered her hair and only a small expanse of her face was visible above the covers.

‘Won’t be a moment, my dear,’ said Arthur as he crossed to his travelling chest. He undressed unhurriedly, slipped on his nightshirt and turned towards the bed. Kitty did not seemed to have moved, and she made no sound.The only noise in the room was the faint rustle of the branches of a chestnut tree just outside the window. Arthur slipped under the covers and lay facing his wife. She had her back to him and for a moment Arthur wondered if she might be asleep, and he did not move.Then the covers stirred and her hand reached back towards him, groping across the sheet for his hand. Finding his fingers, she interlaced her own and gave a gentle squeeze.

‘Are you ready, my love?’ he whispered.

‘Yes,’ came the reply, soft as a light breeze.

Arthur edged closer and drew Kitty over so that she lay on her back. Her eyes were wide as she stared up at him, terrified by this new intimacy. Arthur leaned over her and kissed her on the lips, feeling hers tremble. He kissed her again, and let his fingers caress her neck, down to the breast of her nightshirt. As the tips brushed her nipple Kitty gave a small cry and Arthur felt a sudden hot stirring in his loins. His hand continued to move over her stomach, and then he began to draw the material of her nightdress up until he could feel the smooth bare flesh. His hand paused a moment before tracing its way down to the soft tuft of hair. Kitty gasped.

‘Are you all right, my love?’ he asked.

‘Yes, yes.’ Her eyes were tightly shut. ‘Arthur, my dear, please . . . please don’t hurt me. Please be gentle with me.’

‘I will.’

He was now fully aroused and he gently eased her legs apart and climbed over her. Kitty’s sex was dry and unyielding as he pressed the tip of his penis against her.There was resistance for a moment, and then he entered her. She cried out in surprise and a little pain and her hands grasped his shoulders tightly. Arthur thrust home, again and again, working his way up to a quick, joyless climax, and as soon as it was over he rolled to one side and lay gazing at the ceiling as his heart pounded passionlessly. Kitty lay still for a moment, and then began to cry silently, though he could feel the little judders through the mattress.

For a moment he thought about trying to comfort her, but no words came, and he turned away and blew out the candle on his side of the bed and lay in the dark, not sleeping and filled with a deadening sense of despair.