you arrive in London?’
‘This morning. I—’
Kat was overjoyed by this evidence of her lover’s eagerness, and when the footman had closed the doors, she embraced him. ‘How long shall you stay?’
Hervey was dismayed by how rapidly he was losing command of things (as always seemed the case when he came to Holland Park, no matter how resolutely). ‘Kat, there is something urgent I must speak with you about.’
‘Indeed? Must we speak of it at once, or may I ring for tea?’
‘I . . . I’m not sure that I can stay at all long. I have an engagement this evening . . . with a brother officer.’
‘Oh,’ declared Kat in a tone of mild affront. ‘I might have known your regiment would have first call on you.’
He chose not to rise to the challenge. ‘Kat, the devil of a thing has come about. I was at the Horse Guards today and I learned that there’s to be a court of inquiry into the affair at Waltham Abbey, and that . . . Sir Peregrine is likely as not to be president.’
Kat looked perplexed. ‘Is that such a cause for alarm? He is generally the most agreeable of men.’
Hervey shifted awkwardly. ‘The point is, Kat . . . the inquiry will attract public attention – it’s bound to. And that is sure to occasion comment. Do you not see?’
Kat saw, and also that the comment would hardly be to her advantage either (she supposed that Hervey’s concern was not principally for
‘Yes, Kat: I consider it
‘What would you have me
Hervey had not imagined he would have to suggest it. He was staunch nonetheless. ‘Ask Sir Peregrine to decline the presidency.’
Kat looked bewildered. ‘How shall I manage that? I cannot interfere with military matters in that way!’
Hervey was astonished. She had interfered several times before on his behalf – and to secure preferment rather than so simple a thing as this (he imagined that persuading her husband to decline an invitation would not be too difficult). ‘Kat, I—’
‘Matthew, it is evidently troubling you greatly. Let us sit and talk of it, and see if there is anything I might do.’ She rang for tea.
Hervey sat.
* * *
It was after midnight when he returned to the United Service Club. He was surprised to find Fairbrother in the coffee room still, reading Southey’s
‘My dear friend, I am so very sorry I did not keep my appointment. I was detained against my better judgement, if not in truth will. But I think the trouble may be soon resolved.’
‘I am very glad of it,’ replied Fairbrother equably. ‘In truth, too, I have been glad of an evening with Southey. I confess to having felt excessively tired after leaving Westminster.’
Hervey smiled ruefully. ‘I have heard that parliament has that effect.’
‘No, parliament was invigorating in the extreme. There was a debate on reform of the franchise. Feelings ran unconscionably high. I never heard such a bear house!’
‘I dare say. Have you dined?’
‘Yes, and very agreeably – at the club table with two officers not long returned from the Indies.’
‘I’m glad of it. I—’
‘I did not say: the debate was in the House of Peers. I heard Lord Palmerston speak. He is a most engaging man, I think. Exactly as I had imagined him.’
Hervey kept his peace. He too had liked Palmerston when they had met briefly, a year or so before; but he did wish the Secretary at War would not now persist with this inquiry.
The night porter came into the room to turn down the lamps. Hervey ordered brandy. ‘And then to bed. While there is time – before I am taken up with clerks at the Colonies Office, and attorneys – I would show you things, tomorrow.’
‘I should be excessively grateful to you, Hervey. Excessively. But I am minded that I am meant to be a salutary companion: you are sure you do not overtax your constitution – the fever, the wound?’
Hervey knew his constitution had proved serviceable, and tried not to look sheepish. ‘I assure you I am perfectly well.’
Fairbrother laid aside his Southey, as if to convey that the matter was settled. ‘Did the porter tell you there is a letter? He said he would place it in the rack.’
Hervey rose and went to the hall to retrieve it. He saw at once that it was in his mother’s hand, which immediately disquietened him, for she scarcely ever wrote. He broke the seal, and read:
IV
A PASSAGE TO MALTA
‘Sir Laughton?’ The first lieutenant had returned very carefully upon his half-hour.
‘Just “Captain”, if you please, Mr Lambe.’
‘Ay-ay, sir. I have the old hands assembled.’
Peto nodded. He would read them his commission, as was the tradition, and address a few words to them. But he thought first to address the question of the admiral’s quarters, about which he had given no instructions. By custom when the admiral flew his flag elsewhere the captain of a first-rate had the use of the cabin on the upper deck, but since Peto expected Sir Edward Codrington to transfer his flag to
‘The admiral’s apartments, I trust, are in serviceable condition? I had better take a look at them before beginning on general rounds.’
Lieutenant Lambe looked at him quizzically. ‘They are, sir. I believe Miss Codrington is most comfortable.’
Peto’s expression of indifference turned to one of thunder. ‘
‘Miss Codrington, sir. She came aboard this morning. She is, I believe, comfortable. And her maid.’
