Tom Pakenham was rearranging the ledgers on his desk and did not deign to look up as his guest entered the study.
'Wesley! Good of you to come. Take a seat.'
There was no seat near the desk and Arthur had to take one from the secretary's desk in the far corner and carry it across the room. He set it down directly opposite Kitty's brother and sat, with an erect back, and waited.
Tom dipped a quill and started to write out a note. 'Be with you in a moment…'
A silence grew in the musty-smelling study, broken only by the scratching of the quill.Arthur seethed with fury at this cavalier treatment, but for Kitty's sake, and therefore his own, he kept his tongue still and did not move. At length Tom pushed the document to one side, lowered his quill and smiled at his guest.
'There, I'm done! You wouldn't believe how much time I spend on those bloody tenants.'
'I have had some experience. I looked after my brother Richard's affairs when he left for England. Besides, times are hard. The farmers are having a difficult enough time feeding their own even before they can pay the rent.'
Tom gave him a hard look. 'You sound just like one of those radical Frenchies.'
'Nothing could be further from the truth, Tom.'
Kitty's brother leaned back in his chair. 'Anyway, Wesley, I expect you've come here for permission to marry young Kitty.'
'I have.'
'What reason have I to consent to this request?'
'There is a mutual affection between us. I could make her happy.'
'Affection? Happiness? They're all very well, but what prospects have you, man? Eh? What prospects? You're just a captain. Do you think my sister can live on your pay?'
It was precisely the argument that Arthur had expected and he had prepared his response.'I have written to my brother to ask for a loan to purchase a major's commission. He has agreed.That will mean more pay. Sufficient to look after us for the present.'
'And the future? I assume you'll want children. What then?'
'It'll take time before I can afford a colonelcy,' Arthur admitted. 'Unless, of course, there is a war. In which case I will be in prime position for rapid promotion without having to purchase further commissions.'
'Indeed? You rate yourself highly. Perhaps too highly. As it happens, I have made some detailed enquiries into your character and background. No conscientious brother would do any less,' Tom justified himself quickly. 'It seems that your superiors are unaware of any outstanding qualities in you. Moreover, I understand that you already have substantial debts. Should you buy a major's commission, then any advance in pay will be set against yet more debt arising from the purchase of the rank.'Tom smiled. 'I'm sure you see my difficulty here, Arthur. I believe you may be a good man, and Kitty certainly entertains a fondness for you, but I cannot permit her to squander her affections on a junior officer with few prospects of promotion and a vastly greater prospect of impoverishment.'
Arthur clenched his teeth tightly for an instant, before he dared to respond in a strained cordial tone.'As I said, if war comes, I will have prospects.'
'If war comes, you will be sent into action. A battlefield is at least as dangerous a place as a Dublin drinking house.' Tom smiled. 'In any case, if you go to war, there's a good chance you won't come back. Do you wish Kitty to wear black so soon after she wears white?'
Arthur's eyes fell. 'No.'
With a rhetorical flourish Tom raised a palm as if he was a lawyer, summing up a conclusive presentation of evidence. Then he was silent.
Arthur felt angry, heart-broken and physically sick, but had just enough control over his wits to keep his face expressionless. He looked up, his bright blue eyes boring into his host.
'Would you deny me her hand in marriage then, Pakenham?'
'I would.'
'Why?'
'Why?'Tom raised his eyebrows in surprise. 'For all the reasons I've already given, and more besides. Wesley, the simple and plain truth of the matter is that you are not good enough for my sister. Not good enough now. Not good enough ever. And when Kitty comes to her senses she'll see that.'
Arthur felt his veins fill with a cold fury as Tom spoke of his sister in such mercenary terms.
'Kitty loves me.'
'She's said so?'
'She has.' Arthur stared at him defiantly. 'We could be married without your consent.'
It was a desperate and ungentlemanly threat, but it was all that he could think of. Tom's lips twisted into a contemptuous sneer. He nodded, leaned forward over the desk, and lowered his voice to a menacing growl. 'You could. I'd cut her dead, of course, and you, I'd ruin.You have my word that I'd devote all my energies to that end. Don't even think of doing it, Wesley.'
Tom sat back and pointed to the door.'I want you to leave.You have my answer. There's no more to be said.'
Arthur's mind reeled, searching desperately for some argument he had not yet used, but Tom was right – there was nothing more to say. Nothing. It was over and he had lost Kitty. Lost everything that mattered to him. Rising from the chair, he bowed his head.
'Goodbye, Pakenham.'
'Goodbye, Wesley.'
He turned and strode out of the study, closing the door loudly behind him. He didn't return to the library but marched straight for the front door and down the steps, and towards the stables.The groom was already waiting with his horse, as if he had been expecting the captain to be leaving shortly. Behind him footsteps crunched on the gravel.
'Arthur! Arthur, wait!'
He paused, and turned round slowly. Kitty drew up short as she saw the terrible pain in his expression.
'Oh, no…'
'I'm sorry, Kitty.'
'No.Wait.You wait here. I'll speak to him.' She turned and ran back to the entrance, calling back one last time. 'Wait!'
But Arthur knew it was pointless. Tom Pakenham would not change his mind. He had opposed the marriage right from the start, as Arthur now realised with bitter awareness. He just wasn't good enough for Kitty.The words stung him like a blow. Because they were true. He snatched the reins from the groom and threw himself up into the saddle. He applied the spurs savagely and, with a spray of loose gravel, he turned his back on Pakenham Hall for ever and galloped away down the drive.
By the time he had returned to his lodgings in Dublin, his anger had died away, and there was only a dull aching despair in his heart. He climbed the stairs to his room and closed and locked the door behind him. Outside night had fallen and the orange flicker of a streetlamp lined his window frame. It was cold and Arthur lit a candle and quickly made up the fire. Soon a warm, wavering glow filled the room and he sat on a stool and stared into the heart of the burning coals.With Kitty gone from his life, what was left? What was he to do? Arthur glanced round at his room, and realised just how sick of it he had become. How sick of the boorish fools who filled the viceroy's court.
His eyes wandered to the violin propped up in the far corner, and with a faint smile, he rose from the stool and fetched the instrument. For a moment, he plucked the strings absent-mindedly. Then, raising the bow, he began to play. As the thin notes filled the air Arthur closed his eyes and let his mind roam back to childhood. Back to Dangan; the music room and his father proudly presenting him with this very violin; the delighted applause of his family as he entertained them all for the first time.
As he played, his mind wandered freely.
The revolutionary madness in France would now spill across its borders and threaten the rest of the world with its contagion. It must be stopped if order, if civilisation itself, were to endure. The French king was dead, murdered
