The Victory (3 page)

‘
By, she were a right plucked one when she were a little
lass, and that clever wi' animals an' doctorin' an' such! I'll
never forget how she 'tended a sore on ma prize pig Caesar's
back, an' cushed an' petted him so soft, he nigh on fell asleep
while she did it — an' him that fierce i' the normal way, I
never went into his pen wi'out a pitchfork.’

James had no desire to spoil Abley's image of Lucy by tell
ing him that she was at present scandalising London by living
openly with her lover, Captain Weston, while her husband,
James Chetwyn, Earl of Aylesbury, lived a bachelor life in an
apartment in Ryder Street. Instead he said, 'They say the
Prince of Wales always asks her advice before buying a horse.’

Abley shook his head admiringly. 'To think of our Miss
Lucy hob-nobbin' wi' the Prince himself! Well, to my mind,
it's the Prince as gets the honour by it, for there's not another
like her i' th' world, since your sainted mother passed away. Maister James. Willta tek a bit o' ma fresh bread, now, an' a
sup of ale? Likely tha's had nowt sin' supper?'

‘
I should love some of your fresh rolls to take home and
share with Miss Fanny for breakfast,' James said. 'You know
she always says your rolls are better than ours at home.’

Abley looked pleased. 'Well, I won't say she's wrong! Tek 'em, an' welcome, maister. She went past ma door yesterday,
on her little pony, an' called out to me, right friendly. Rides
like a cyclops an' all! Near as good as Miss Lucy when she
were that age.’

As James dismounted in the yard at Morland Place, Edward
appeared from the stable.

‘Hullo, Ned. You're out early!' James called.

Edward came across to him. 'One of the carriage-horses is lame,' he said, fending off Nez Carré as the old horse shoved
him affectionately in the chest.

‘Oh — which one?'

‘
One of the greys, Sparta. A touch of thrush. Hoskins
will
over-feed 'em when they're not working.' Edward looked
more closely at his brother. ‘Have you been out all night?'

‘
Guilty! But don't 'rate me — it means I can have break
fast with you before I go to bed. Look,' said James, holding up
the bag of rolls as a peace-offering.

‘
A rare pleasure,' Edward said, but his frown dissolved
before his brother's charming smile. James handed Nez Carré
to his groom and linked arms with Edward as they turned
towards the house.

‘
I suppose,' Edward went on, 'from this display of affection
that you've outrun your allowance again. I wish you wouldn't
gamble, Jamie. Not that you aren't entitled to your share of
the estate's income — you work hard enough — but I hate to
see good Morland money passing into other men's pockets for
no return.'

‘
Don't be such a puritan, old dry-bones,' James said affec
tionately. 'I must have my little bit of pleasure now and then.
Besides, you're wrong on this occasion: I've come home with
my pockets freighted with gold — a hundred guineas to the
good, dear brother, so I'm in a clinking good humour! Fortu
nately,' he added with a chuckle, 'Arthur Fussell is as rich as
he is fatuous. He plays cards even worse than he rides.’

They crossed the great hall, heading for the steward's
room, where Ned always took his early bite to stave off the
pangs of hunger until breakfast proper at nine o'clock. A tray was waiting for him, with new bread and cold beef, and a jug
of home-brewed, since Edward did not care for coffee so early
in the day.

The thing is,' he reverted when they were sitting either
side of the fireplace with the tray between them, 'I don't
believe you do enjoy it. You'd get far more pleasure out of
a
day's hunting, which costs nothing.'

‘
I can't hunt at night, can I? Come, Ned, leave me be. I
only go to the Maccabbees once a week now. A fellow must
have something to keep his mind occupied,' Edward looked as
though he would continue the argument, so James added
quickly, 'Besides, how else would we get the news so quickly?
Crosby Shawe was in the club last night, just down from
London, and he says the Government's told Lord Whitworth that if Boney don't agree to our terms within seven days he's
to leave Paris. An you know that if the British Ambassador
leaves Paris, it can only be war.'

‘
Seven days?' Edward said, brightening. 'Come, that's
more like it! I don't know why we've shilly-shallied so long,
anyway. It's as plain as bread that Bonaparte doesn't mean to
give up Malta —'

‘
Or to withdraw his troops from Switzerland and Holland.'
and the longer we wait, the more time it gives him to
raise troops and make his preparations.'

‘
It gives us the same time for the same purpose,' James
pointed out.

‘
If we used the time properly,' Edward said, 'but what has our Government done? Brother William says the Frogs have
got better than fifty ships in Santo Domingo, all ready to sail
home, while most of ours are still laid up, and our best
captains are sitting around in Fladong's waiting to be
commissioned. And the army's no better off. The Govern
ment's done nothing there.'

‘
Fifty thousand militiamen balloted back in March is
hardly nothing,' James reminded him.

‘
Militiamen aren't the same as a trained army,' Edward
said with a harassed frown. 'Besides, who's to clothe them?
Where are the guns and ammunition to come from? The
Government leaves it all for us to do, as usual. Enrolling the
men was a nightmare: I swear nine out of every ten claimed exemption. Substitutes are asking twenty, even twenty-five
pounds now — aye, and getting it! And how do you think
that's going to affect the recruitment of regulars, when their
bounty's only seven pound twelve-and-six? Rustics armed
with pikes is all we shall have to fight with — against French
veterans,
and
the best artillery in Europe.’

James patted his arm. 'Eat your bread and meat, old
fellow. You'll feel
better when your belly's full. Have one of
Abley's rolls. I perjured myself to get them.'

‘
You don't take anything seriously,' Ned complained. 'But
you'll change your tune when the French come marching up
the Dover road and hoist the tricolor over St James's Palace.’

James grinned. 'Oh yes, I'll start worrying then, I promise
you. It's about as likely as my becoming the next king of
England! We'll beat 'em when the time comes, Ned, never
fear.'

‘
It can't come too soon for me,' Edward said, cutting
another slice of beef and dabbing it with mustard. 'Damn
Addington and his conciliation! We need a Pitt to bring this
cursed peace to an end.'

‘
How bloodthirsty you are,' James remarked mildly, break
ing a roll and reaching for the butter.

‘
Nothing to do with being bloodthirsty,' Ned answered
quickly. 'Don't you realise what a good thing the war is for
us? The price of wool is bound to go up, with the demand for
cloth for uniforms. And don't tell me you've forgotten how
many more horses we sold up until that wretched Peace? I
don't see,' he went on, warming to his subject, 'why we
shouldn't get a government contract for horses this time.
After all, it isn't as though we haven't got influential friends.
There's John Anstey a Member of Parliament to begin with,
and cousin Horatio a bosom-bow of the Prince; and Chetwyn's
always been well-liked in Court circles, if he'd stir himself.'

‘
The name of Morland is much better known at the
Admiralty than at the War Office,' James reminded him
lazily.

‘
Well then,' Ned countered, 'what about a contract for
supplying provisions for the fleet?'

‘
Surely the commissioners at Portsmouth must get all their beef and mutton from the southern counties? I can't see them
wanting our cattle, all skin and bone after a two-hundred
mile drive.'

‘
I wasn't talking about cattle,' Ned said impatiently, 'I was
talking about corn. They're going to need tons of it, for ship's
bread. We could turn over all our arable fields to it, and then
there's that piece of land on the edge of the moor that only
wants draining ...’

James yawned. 'Whatever you say, old fellow. You don't
need to ask my permission. It's no concern of mine.'

‘
The estate is held in trust for Fanny,' Edward pointed out.
'Of course it's your concern. You're her father.'

‘
The merest accident,' James said, taking a bite of buttered
roll. 'The more I think of it, the more I feel it would have been better all round if
you
had married Mary Ann, rather
than me — inherited her from Chetwyn, you might say, when he decided to marry Lucy instead. You and he being so close,
it would have kept it in the family, so to speak.’

Edward reddened a little. James's assumed carelessness always irritated him. 'I don't suppose I could have made a worse husband than you, anyway,' he retorted. 'I wouldn't
have run off and broken Mother's heart.'

‘
But then your sense of duty to the family wasn't strong
enough to persuade you to marry at all, was it?' James said, nettled into retaliation. 'It was left to me to provide an heir,
since you wouldn't.’

There was a tap at the door at that moment, and Father
Aislaby, the chaplain, came in most timely. ‘Ah, I thought I
heard your voice,' he said to James. 'I thought perhaps you
ought to know that Fanny has gone out.'

‘Gone out where?' Edward asked before James could speak.

‘
That I can't tell you,' Aislaby said. 'But she's taken her
pony and that young stable-lad, the red-haired one —'

‘
Foster,' James supplied with a smile. 'Yes, she would —
he's a thorough reprobate. Fanny's taste is consistent, at least.
I suspect they've gone off to steal pheasant's eggs. She did
seem to take an unusual interest in the clutches yesterday,
when we were riding in Harewood Whin.'

‘
How can you take it so lightly?' Edward exclaimed.
'Really, Jamie, that child goes beyond all bounds! You should
never have given her a pony. She careers about the country
side like a little savage, completely unrestrained — and as
ignorant, as far as I can see, as the day she was born. I doubt
whether she can even read and write.'

‘
That's an aspersion on you, Father,' James said. 'What
have you been teaching my daughter all these years?'

‘
Precious little, I'm afraid,' Aislaby admitted, unperturbed.
'If I can keep her in the schoolroom at all, it's as much as I
compound for. As for teaching her anything, I fear it's beyond
me.