XI
RECKONINGS
The last Tuesday of each month was the quartermaster’s day for interior economy, as it was known in the Sixth, and so there was no general parade. Hervey had arrived back from Gloucestershire in the early hours; Emma had tried to persuade him to stay for another day and then drive back with them, but he had explained that there was Private Lightowler’s funeral to attend to as well as business with the Horse Guards, and promised instead to call on them in Bedford Square at the first opportunity. At eight o’clock he breakfasted quietly in the officers’ house, and at nine he stepped into regimental headquarters hoping not to hear too dispiriting a report of the weekend’s ‘crime’.
‘Good morning, Hervey,’ said Vanneck cheerily as the acting commanding officer passed through the adjutant’s office and into his own. ‘I trust that Gloucestershire was restorative?’
Hervey could not suppress a smile of satisfaction. ‘Good morning, Vanneck. Yes, it was.’
The adjutant followed him with a handful of letters.
‘And I may tell you that I have certain news.’
Vanneck saw the distinctly pleased look, and was grateful for it. He had long been troubled by what he perceived as a lack of joy at the heart of his regimental hero.
‘Lady Lankester and I are to be married.’
Vanneck smiled broadly, seeming not at all surprised, and held out his hand. ‘My dear Hervey, my hearty congratulations!’
‘I tell you of course, but I can tell no one else until her people know of it, which I shall have to address myself to soon.’
‘I had no idea that you and Lady Lankester were … on such terms. It seems rather remiss of me, your adjutant.’
Hervey smiled again and shook his head. ‘Think nothing of it. Now, what deeds does the day quake to look upon?’
Vanneck shrugged. ‘Nothing, really. Worsley and the sarn’t-major are both recovering well. Mr Hairsine believes he will return to duty next week. Lightowler’s funeral will be at eleven on Thursday; the coroner has issued the papers. Cornet Roffe delivered your letter to his father in Dartford – decent folk, said Roffe. He arranged for them to be present.’
Hervey nodded approvingly.
‘There were the customary occurrences following pay parade on Saturday. There was no church on Sunday, as you know. The sick reports are usual enough – nothing of any moment in the horse lines. In all, a peaceful time.’ Vanneck raised his eyebrows and lowered his voice. ‘Save in one respect – Johnson.’ Hervey looked alarmed.
‘No, in Johnson’s own case I think all may be well. He’s been a dupe, and an entirely innocent one as far as I can see. If he turns King’s evidence then apparently there’ll be no further action. But I’m afraid that it looks as if Snagge’s the true criminal.’
‘Snagge?’
Vanneck sighed. ‘I know. I could scarcely credit it. But I would ask that you wait for Armstrong to return from quartermaster’s, for he has the detail, and then you may best make whatever decision is necessary.’
‘Very well.’ Hervey thought for a moment. ‘There is no word from the District? About Waltham, I mean.’
‘Not other than a letter addressed personally to you.’
Hervey nodded to the bundle of letters in Vanneck’s hand. ‘Those are all mine?’
‘They are. And two expresses. I would have sent them to Gloucestershire but they arrived only yesterday.’
Vanneck placed the little pile on Hervey’s desk, and withdrew. ‘I’ll come as soon as Armstrong is returned. Shall I have someone bring coffee?’
Hervey shook his head. ‘Just allow me half an hour with these.’
He sat at his desk and began examining each of the half dozen hands. The expresses were unmistakable – his sister’s and his colonel’s. Elizabeth’s at once took priority.
Hervey laid down the letter, shaking his head and smiling. ‘And the old dog said not a word!’ He pulled the bell cord by the fireplace. And he shook his head and smiled again: command of a first-rate! What double fortune this news was! He looked through the other letters to see if there was one from his old friend, but he perfectly understood why there was not.
A clerk appeared before Hervey could read over Elizabeth’s letter a second time.
‘Brayshaw, I shall want to send an express. In one hour.’
‘Sir.’ Brayshaw saluted, turned about smartly, and left to find an orderly to run to the post office.
Hervey picked up the second express, and with so light a heart that he broke the seal without hesitating.
