Man Of War

Now Fairbrother sighed, and took a long measure of his brandy-soda. ‘My dear friend, I do not even apologize for pressing this. We are by accident or otherwise close companions; but I counsel the greatest caution in all this. I know what I believe, though I cannot be certain: no woman of your sister’s sensibility would do as she does without the utmost conviction. If you persist in . . . frankly, hectoring her, you risk both reinforcing her will and driving her from you.’

Hervey was tired. He had not slept much these past days, and his mind had been wholly active during the journey up. He was in no mood for dispute, even if he had had the inclination. He too took a long measure of his brandy-soda. ‘Fairbrother, I confess that in Horningsham I wished you were not there; and now I’m only thankful you were. If there is some strange female madness in this, or wilfulness, the last thing I wish is that I make matters worse. If you believe that I serve my purpose better by caution, then so be it. I confess I am at a loss to know how to bring Elizabeth to her senses, only that I must.’ He drained his glass, placed it on the wine table between their tubs, and stood. ‘Come; let us go and find a chop house.’

Fairbrother finished his glass and rose without a word. He must be content enough that he had achieved his immediate object, even if his friend entirely mistook his purpose.

Next day, Hervey took Fairbrother to watch the changing of the guard, before going to see Lord John Howard. He felt most particularly well. The remittent fever, the last bout of which had laid him so low at the Cape, was now wholly expelled, and he had back his colour and constitution in full measure. And the iklwa wound to his leg was but a neat scar. He felt ready for the saddle again, and watching the Life Guards only increased that certainty.

The business of Elizabeth occupied him, but by no means exclusively. On the drive back to London the matter of the court of inquiry had returned once more to the forefront of his mind. He knew that he ought by rights to be dealing with the matter by first applying to the Sixth’s orderly room, and they in turn to the headquarters of the London District, but the disadvantages of following the ‘chain of command’ were all too obvious. Besides, who with a friend at court – the commander-in-chief ’s headquarters – would apply, so to speak, at the palace’s back door? He was, indeed, almost shameless in this now. Where once he would have thought it beneath the dignity of a regimental officer to concern himself with anything but the regiment, he now knew otherwise: an officer must keep himself as much posted of affairs in Whitehall, in both military headquarters and civil ministries, as of events in the field. He despised the necessity, of course; but it did not follow that he must despise himself in the exercise of that necessity. Why should he leave the race open to lesser men who would not balk at chicanery? Even the Duke of Wellington had not risen by merit alone.

And with each chicane he found the business a little easier. Sometimes he did not at first recognize what he did. He wondered, indeed, if there were occasions when he did not later recognize it. And it troubled him. While he had been a prisoner in Badajoz – not eighteen months past – he had resolved to lead a new life, as the Prayer Book had it. His coming marriage had sprung from that very resolution. But soon the muddy business of the army in peacetime (what other way was there to describe the business of obtaining command?), and, he had to admit, his own weakness of will, had recalled him to the ways he had forsworn. It did indeed trouble him. But he took comfort in knowing in what cause it was: he wished only for a peaceful and settled state of matrimony, as once he had enjoyed (albeit briefly, and not without tempest, although passionate to a degree which the recollection of could discomfit him still). He wished above all for a proper and settled state of family for Georgiana. And he wished, and confided that the wish were not inimical to that cause, for command of the Sixth.