Arthur spared the naval officer a quick glance. He would be rejoining them in a moment, and Arthur spoke quickly. ‘Say you won’t marry him, Kitty. Promise me.’
‘I shall do no such thing. Besides, I like him.’
‘But you love me.’
‘For now.’ Kitty smiled sweetly and turned towards the looming hulk of Fenshaw as he eased past a small group of young ladies, who glanced at him sidelong and then whispered amongst themselves.
‘Here you are, Kitty!’ Fenshaw handed her a glass of punch, then gave one to Arthur and raised the last glass. ‘A toast. To the meeting of old friends.’
‘Old friends,’ Arthur and Kitty chorused. Arthur sensed that the other man was watching him closely, as if he were trying to discern the true nature of the friendship between them.
The orchestra struck up the first dance of the night and at once Captain Fenshaw turned to Kitty. ‘My dance, I believe. Here, Wesley, take the drinks.’
Arthur reached out and awkwardly clutched the three glasses as the others moved out into the centre of the ballroom and took up their positions with the other couples. Glancing round,Arthur caught the eye of a servant and nodded to the glasses. Once he had been relieved of them he turned round to see Kitty and Fenshaw join in the first movements of a reel, smiling at each other as they linked arms and swirled round. Arthur felt sick. And angry. That Kitty should be so mercenary . . .Then again, what right had he to insist on her affection when he had no hope of marrying her for some years yet, the way his life was heading? For now, it all depended on Lord Camden. If only he could find a profitable position for Arthur, then there was hope.
For the rest of the evening, Kitty danced with each of them in turn. In between dances she was unscrupulously flirtatious with both men. Try as he might, Arthur found it hard to dislike Fenshaw, who seemed to be as professional as himself, and in the few snatches of more serious conversation that Kitty permitted them it was clear that he was a thoughtful man with considerable charm, much intelligence and a ready wit. In short, the sort of man who would make an admirable brother-in-law for Tom Pakenham. At the end of the evening, after the orchestra had finished playing and the guests made to leave in order of their social standing, Kitty turned to them.
‘Well! I’ve had a fine evening. To be the object of the undivided attention of two such fine beaux has made me the envy of almost every unmarried woman at the ball. What more could a girl ask for?’ She laughed, and the others joined in politely.‘We should do more of this. I think the three of us could become fast friends.’
Arthur nodded faintly, hiding his disappointment.
‘Yes,’ Fenshaw agreed.‘It would be a pleasure to see you again, Colonel.’
When the carriage which was to take himself and Kitty home had been called, Captain Fenshaw insisted on giving Arthur a lift back to his lodgings in Fostertown.Arthur had been on the verge of politely declining the offer, in order to deny his rival the chance to see the unfashionable neighbourhood where he had his lodgings, but that would mean denying himself the chance of spending a little longer in Kitty’s company, and he reluctantly accepted.
As he descended from the carriage Arthur kissed her hand and bid Captain Fenshaw good night. He stood and watched as the carriage rattled down the street, turned the corner and disappeared. He heard Kitty laugh one last time, a light joyful sound that had once been as music to him, but now felt like an open taunt.
Chapter 12
‘I’m sorry, Wesley, but there are no seats available for you on either the treasury or the revenue boards.’ Lord Camden opened his hands in a helpless gesture. ‘As you know, I have many political favours to repay and, regretfully, I had to give them priority over any consideration of who might be best qualified for a job. I wish it were not so, but that’s how the system works.’
‘I see,’ Arthur replied, trying to keep his disappointment from showing. ‘Thank you for being honest with me, my lord.’
‘The least you deserve.And rest assured, I will be tireless in my efforts to secure you a post where you can prove your mettle. I know that you will serve me well.’ He smiled. ‘It is merely a question of time, Wesley.Your star will rise.’
‘It feels as if it is already waning, my lord.’The words were out before he could check himself and Lord Camden frowned irritably.
‘Look here, there is an order to these things. Patronage is a well-tried system. Without it we might as well give up the fight and embrace the principles of the revolution in France. And we’ve seen where that leads. Chaos and tyranny. Patronage works. When the needs of patronage have been satisfied then we can appoint people on merit. That usually comes with experience, young Wesley, and at the moment that is what you lack. I have heard fine things about you from various sources, particularly concerning your aptitude for military command. However, in the sphere of politics and office-holding you are something of an ingénu, wouldn’t you agree?’
‘It is true that I lack experience,’ Arthur conceded.‘But as you say, I show promise and I am very keen to learn. In any case, how is a man to acquire the necessary experience if he is denied the chance to gain it in the first place?’
Lord Camden shrugged. ‘It may seem like something of a conundrum, but something will turn up. I am sure of it.’
‘And if it doesn’t, my lord?’
‘Then perhaps you would be best advised to pursue a purely military career.You might win promotion, decorations and a title if you cover yourself in glory, and live long enough. Then you could enter politics at some advantage. It’s worth considering.’ Camden clapped his hands.‘Come now! Surely a young man like you must be longing for adventure and the chance to win his spurs?’
Arthur smiled bitterly. ‘It sounds as if there is already considerable doubt that any public office will be found for me.’
‘I said I would do what I can for you,’ Camden replied coolly as he picked up a pen.‘You cannot ask for more than that,Wesley. In any case, you are not in a position to. Now, if you don’t mind, I have other duties to attend to.’
The meeting was over, Arthur realised. He turned away from the desk and strode out of the office seething with indignation, which swiftly gave way to new depths of hopelessness.There was one last thing he could try, even though it stuck in his throat like a fishbone. He could write to Richard and ask for more assistance. A direct recommendation from the Earl of Mornington would surely open some doors.
Once the letter had been composed, carefully written out and sent to Richard in London, Arthur turned his attention back to Kitty. Now that he had renewed their acquaintance at the ball, he felt able to call on her at home. After all, with a handsome and financially well-endowed suitor like Captain Fenshaw on the scene, there was no reason for Tom Pakenham to be concerned over the presence of Arthur. So he was able to join Kitty and Fenshaw for evenings at the theatre, or various soirées and castle picnics once the summer managed to shoulder its way through the persistent rainclouds of the Irish climate. It pained him when Kitty used Fenshaw’s first name. He had not been on first name terms with Kitty for some months after he had met her.
His feelings towards Fenshaw were mixed. Fenshaw told a good story, and hinted, in terms discreet enough for Kitty’s ears, about the bawdy life of officers in the Navy. At the same time, he had a natural philosophical sensitivity and knew his Locke thoroughly. In all, a fine man, who would be a pleasure to know, were it not for his affection for Kitty.
Every smile she bestowed on Fenshaw, every touch of her hand on his and every meeting of their eyes filled Arthur with such jealousy that he instinctively wished for divine intervention of the most fatal and instant kind. Then he felt shamed by the thought, and less of the man that he wanted to be. It did not take long for Arthur to realise that these moments of hatred for Fenshaw were due to his having precisely the personal qualities and social connections that Arthur felt himself to lack. That added a most bitter and distasteful edge to the baser sentiment of jealousy.