Company Of Spears

Hervey had not considered this, and he chided himself. Elizabeth was not a woman of fashion, but she was by no means incapable of taking her place in any drawing room. She would indeed be of help; with a certain outlay, she would even be an adornment. But, command was temporary; he had no expectations of remaining at the head of the regiment beyond the season. Except, of course, that he now possessed the means of purchasing the lieutenant-colonelcy for himself.

That reminded him. ‘I really must write post-haste to Lord George Irvine.’

Elizabeth knew the business exactly. ‘Shall your colonel approve?’

It was a good question. Hervey had every reason to believe he would. Lord George’s solicitude on his returning from Portugal, his immediate entrusting of acting command to him, spoke volumes. And, indeed, there were very nearly two decades’ association in peace and war. These were no mere things. But the lieutenant-colonelcy of a regiment of cavalry in peacetime was a much coveted prize. There would be no shortage of bidders.

‘I believe he will.’

‘And ten thousand shall be sufficient?’

Hervey was pulled up short again, as ever, by Elizabeth’s percipience. There had been much speculation in the mess about the figure. Over time, officers had found more or less legal means to circumvent the regulations, and the price had crept up, whatever the Horse Guards said. Ten thousand ought to be plenty but rumour was that the Ninth had just gone for sixteen thousand, and if that were so then the Sixth could not cost very much less, and perhaps even more, since they were just returned from India and therefore enjoyed the prospect of long and agreeable service at home.

‘I think so, yes, with my own captaincy taken into account and a little extra.’

‘You don’t then have poor Benedict Strickland’s majority?’ Elizabeth knew the regulations only partially.

Hervey shook his head. ‘If the enemy rather than the Oxford mail had killed him then I should have.’

‘Well, I do not imagine that your amiable Colonel Joynson would wish to sell to anyone else once he knows that you are entering the lists.’

That was a highly questionable proposition. Hervey had not the slightest doubt that if command were in Eustace Joynson’s gift he would have had it by now. But the lieutenant-colonelcy, although it had come to Joynson free on the death of Sir Ivo Lankester at Bhurtpore, was now the means of his subsistence in retirement. ‘Frankly, Elizabeth, he’d be a fool to part with it for a penny less than the maximum bid.’

‘Entering the lists’ reminded him too: there was a procedure. He was meant to have submitted his name in the quarterly returns – ‘suitable for promotion and willing to purchase’. It was for the general officer commanding the London District, now that Hervey was acting in command, to certify both, and the appropriate financial guarantees, but he himself had to instigate it. And he would have to make sure that the recommendation for promotion was to lieutenant-colonel, for he held the substantive rank of captain; his majority had come by brevet and by temporary assignment as second in command. There must be no bureaucratic slip: he held more than enough service to qualify for promotion to the lieutenant-colonelcy. Except that the deuced rules had changed, had they not? That is what Myles Vanneck had told him.

He made to get up.

‘Sit still, Matthew! What is it you want?’

‘The portfolio by my bed.’

Elizabeth went herself rather than ring for Hannah.

When she returned Hervey began searching the portfolio with a degree of anxiety. Then he found it, an extract from The King’s Regulations, 1824. The adjutant had marked the apposite passage: ‘The quarterly returns certified by Commanding Officers are to be the only communication made on the subject of promotion by purchase, and when a resignation is sent in, it will be considered unconditional and irrevocable and no successor is to be pointed out or recommended.’

He put down the file and cursed to himself. Did anyone take notice of this? In the past when an officer wanted to sell out it was all arranged decorously by the regimental agents: the one would name his price, another would offer to pay, and the colonel of the regiment would approve it. Now it seemed that everything was to be regulated by the Horse Guards. Just when the former system would have favoured him, for a change. It was so novel an idea – the Horse Guards’ interference – he could hardly think how a regiment might properly regulate its officers if its colonel could not have his say in who was to be commissioned or advanced in his own fief.

He cursed beneath his breath. No, there was a way round every regulation: that much he had learned, and should have learned a dozen years before. He would write at once to his friend John Howard at the Horse Guards; and, of course, he would press his case in person.

‘Elizabeth, I fear I shall have to return to Hounslow rather sooner than I had expected.’