"The town is full of you just now," says he, looking me in the eyes.
"It is as it should be. It was a damned good bit of work - about the only good thing in the whole business, by God, whatever Ellenborough and Palmerston may say."
Hudson, thinks I, you should see me now; short of the heavens opening, there was nothing to be added.
The Duke asked me a few sharp questions, about Akbar Khan, and the Afghans generally, and how the troops had behaved on the retreat, which I answered as well as I could. He listened with his head back, and said "Hmm," and nodded, and then said briskly:
"It is a thorough shame that it has been so shockingly managed.
But it is always the way with these damned politicals; there is no telling them. If I had had someone like McNaghten with me in Spain, Bindley, I'd still be at Lisbon, I dare say. And what is to happen to Mr Flashman? Have you spoken to Hardinge?"
Bindley said they would have to find a regiment for me, and the Duke nodded.
"Yes, he is a regimental man. You were in the 11th Hussars, as I remember? Well, you won't want to go back there," and he gave me a shrewd look. "His lordship is no better disposed to Indian officers now than he ever was, the more fool he. I have thought of telling him, more than once, that I'm an Indian officer myself, but he would probably just have given me a setdown. Well, Mr Flash-man, I am to take you to Her Majesty this afternoon, so you must be here at one o'clock." And with that he turned back to his room, said a word to Bindley, and shut the door.
Well, you can guess how all this dazzled me; to have the great Duke chatting to me, to learn that I was to be presented to the Queen -
all this had me walking on the clouds. I went home in a rosy dream, hugging myself at the way Elspeth would take the news; this would make her damned father sit up and take notice, all right, and it would be odd if I couldn't squeeze something out of him in consequence, if I played my cards well.
I hurried upstairs, but she wasn't in her room; I called, and eventually old Oswald appeared and said she had gone out.
"Where away?" says I.
"Well, sir," says he, looking mighty sour, "I don't rightly know."
"With Miss Judy?"
"No, sir," says he, "not with Miss Judy. Miss Judy is downstairs, sir."
There was something damned queer about his manner, but there was nothing more to be got from him, so I went downstairs and found Judy playing with a kitten in the morning room.
"Where's my wife?" says I.
"Out with Captain Watney," says she, cool as you please. "Riding.
Here, kitty-kitty. In the Park, I dare say."
For a minute I didn't understand.
"You're wrong," says I. "I sent him packing two hours ago."
"Well, they went riding half an hour ago, so he must have unpacked." She picked up the kitten and began to stroke it.
"What the devil d'you mean?"
"I mean they've gone out together. What else?"
"Dammit," says I, furious. "I told her not to."
She went on stroking, and looked at me with her crooked little smile.
"She can't have understood you, then," says she. "Or she would not have gone, would she?"
I stood staring at her, feeling a chill suddenly settle on my insides.
"What are you hinting, damn you?" I said. "Nothing at all. It is you who are imagining. Do you know, I believe you're jealous."
"Jealous, by God! And what have I to be jealous about?"
"You should know best, surely."
I stood looking thunder at her, torn between anger and fear of what she seemed to be implying.
"Now, look'ee here," I said, "I want to know what the blazes you're at. If you have anything to say about my wife, by God, you'd best be careful ..."
My father came stumping into the hall at that minute, curse him, and calling for Judy. She got up and walked past me, the kitten in her arms. She stopped at the door, gave me a crooked, spiteful smile, and says:
"What were you doing in India? Reading? Singing hymns? Or did you occasionally go riding in the Park?"
And with that she slammed the door, leaving me shot to bits, with horrible thoughts growing in my mind. Suspicion doesn't come gradually; it springs up suddenly, and grows with every breath it takes. If you have a foul mind, as I have, you think foul thoughts readier than clean ones, so that even as I told myself that Judy was a lying bitch trying to frighten me with implications, and that Elspeth was incapable of being false, at the same time I had a vision of her rolling naked in a bed with her arms round Watney's neck. God, it wasn't possible! Elspeth was an innocent, a completely honest fool, who hadn't even known what "fornication" meant when I first met her . . .
That hadn't stopped her bounding into the bushes with me, though, at the first invitation. Oh, but it was still unthinkable! She was my wife, and as amiable and proper as a girl could be; she was utterly different from swine like me, she had to be. I couldn't be as wrong in my judgement as that, could I?
I was standing torturing myself with these happy notions, and then common sense came to the rescue. Good God, all she had done was go riding with Watney - why, she hadn't even known who he was when I warned her against him that morning. And she was the most scatter-brained thing in petticoats; besides, she wasn't of the mettle that trollops are made of. Too meek and gentle and submissive by half-she wouldn't have dared. The mere thought of what I'd do would have terrified . . . what would I do? Disown her? Divorce her? Throw her out? By God, I couldn't! I didn't have the means; my father was right!
For a moment I was appalled. If Elspeth was making a mistress for Watney, or anyone else, there was nothing I could do about it. I could cut her to ribbons, oh, aye, and what then? Take to the streets? I couldn't stay in the army, or in town, even, without means . . .
Oh, but to the devil with this. It was pure moonshine, aye, and deliberately put into my mind to make me jealous by that brown-headed slut of my father's. This was her making mischief to get her own back for the hammering I'd given her three years ago. That was it.
Why, I didn't have the least reason to think ill of Elspeth; everything about her denied Judy's imputations - and, by God, I'd pay that cow out for her lies and sneers. I'd find a way, all right, and God help her when I did.
With my thoughts back in more genial channels, I remembered the news I'd been coming home to tell Elspeth - well, she would have to wait for it until after I'd been to the Palace. Serve her right for going out with Watney, damn him. In the meantime, I spent the next hour looking out my best clothes, arranging my hair, which was grown pretty long and romantic, and cursing Oswald as he helped me with my cravat - I'd have been happier in uniform, but I didn't have a decent one to my name, having spent my time in mufti since I came home. I was so excited that I didn't bother to lunch, but dandied myself up to the nines, and then hurried off to meet His Nose-ship.
There was a brougham at his door when I arrived, and I didn't have to wait two minutes before he came down, all dressed and damning the secretary and valet who were stalking along behind him.
"There probably isn't a damned warming-pan in the place," he was barking. "And it is necessary that every-thing should be in the finest order. Find out if Her Majesty takes her own bed-linen when she travels. I imagine she does, but don't for God's sake go inquiring indiscreetly. Ask Arbuthnot; he'll know. You may be sure that something will be amiss, in the end, but it can't be helped. Ah, Flashman,"