her squeeze his fingers affectionately before he straightened up.
When he returned to Merrion Street Arthur went up to his room and took out his violin. As ever, the disciplined co-ordination of fingers and mind helped to calm his churning emotions. But as he played, his mind went back over the afternoon tea at Kitty's house. He knew he had made a poor impression on Tom, and could fully understand the latter's point of view. A captain's pay was not enough to provide Kitty with a decent home, and he was not even a captain yet. Worse still, he was in debt. No more so than most army officers, but it was still something of a burden and an embarrassment for a man seeking to impress Tom Pakenham.
Unless there was a war, Arthur's progression through the ranks would be stultifyingly slow. And if there was a war, Tom would hardly be happy for his sister to be courted by a man who stood every chance of being killed by shell, bullet or plague. Even if he wasn't killed, Arthur might be wounded and come back a cripple. He imagined Kitty looking at him in pity or – nightmare of nightmares – as an object of ridicule. He would rather die.
So, if the army was not the best route to fame and fortune, what of politics? In that at least Arthur should be able to make a small impact. With Richard firmly installed in the Treasury in London, and William cutting his political teeth in the House of Commons, with a little nepotism, Arthur would be able to climb the political ladder swiftly enough. Swiftly enough to impress Tom, he hoped. But would Kitty be prepared to wait that long?
He stopped playing abruptly, and slapped the bow against his thigh angrily. What was he thinking? Kitty had called him a friend.What if that was all that he meant to her? And here he was projecting wild fantasies of matrimony without any firm evidence that his passion was reciprocated.Yet even without firm evidence he had a feeling in his heart that she must feel something akin to his passion for her. He had seen it in her eyes, heard it in the warmth in her voice, felt it in that squeeze of his fingers as he had taken his leave.
Very well. Even if she did have feelings for him, Arthur would have to do a great deal more to win the respect of her brother. Otherwise Tom would do everything in his power to stand between his sister and the impecunious officer who had the temerity to seek her hand in marriage.
For the rest of the year Arthur turned his attention towards improving his political stock. He began to take part in some of the less important debates where his raw speaking skills could be refined without the risk of making a fool of himself in front of a packed house. And with the situation in France worsening by the month there were many occasions when the members of the Irish parliament crowded the benches to engage in fevered arguments about the impact of the French revolution. It was clear to all that the ideals of the revolutionaries were seeding themselves in Ireland and the ground was proving to be frighteningly fertile.
In November, Charles Fitzroy bustled up to Arthur in Parliament and thrust a pamphlet into his hands.
'Read that! This is going to cause trouble.'
The pamphlet, penned by 'A Northern Whig', went far beyond the liberal ambitions of Grattan and came perilously close to an open call for Ireland to cut its connections with Britain and become a separate republic. As the sales of the pamphlet extended into the thousands, the public clamoured to know the identity of the author. At length it was revealed to be the work of a young Presbyterian intellectual by the name of Wolfe Tone. Arthur was stung by the criticisms Tone made of the way Ireland was being ruled. One phrase in particular acted as a spur to Arthur's determination to emerge from the anonymous ranks of the ordinary members of parliament – the people that Tone referred to as the 'common prostitutes of the Treasury Bench'.
By the end of the year Tone's Society of United Irishmen had all the hallmarks of being the first Jacobin club to open in Ireland. Arthur began to see the sense of his oldest brother's plan to cut his ties with Ireland.With men like Tone coming to the fore, there would be trouble on the streets of Dublin and across every tenanted estate in the land.
When a buyer had been found for Merrion Street Arthur was forced to move back into more humble quarters.The small rooms he rented were comfortable enough, but they were eloquent proof of his financial limitations. What made his situation more painful was the affection that Kitty openly admitted to as the year came to an end. She loved him.
She told him so one night at a dinner, when they had crept away to a small alcove as the other guests listened to a recital. He kissed her hand, then her cheek, his heart beating passionately in his breast, and he told her that he loved her too.That he had loved her since they first met at the picnic. They held each other, relishing the physical contact they had been denied for so long. Even as Arthur felt happier, more content, than ever before in his life, he knew that unless his circumstances changed, this moment would taunt him for the rest of his days.
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
