Young Bloods Part 30

'If the reports are accurate, and the authority of the King is being challenged, then the regime itself is under threat.'

'How dreadful. I imagine that means that the supply of hats and dresses from Paris may well be interrupted. That would be a catastrophe.'

Arthur stared at her as if she were mad. Then she laughed at his expression and tapped his breast with the tip of her folded parasol. 'I was joking. I apologise. But surely a young man like yourself has better things to do than worry about events in a distant country.'

'We may be in Ireland, my lady, but France is the closest neighbour to the British Isles. We should be concerned about what takes place in Paris.'

'On a beautiful day like this? Why bother? We are powerless to intervene and therefore we should concentrate on the pleasures immediately afforded us. Namely this picnic.' She leaned forward and patted his knee. 'Come now, Arthur . . . if I may? I was told that you were a witty and interesting fellow, and yet I find your conversation muted and focused on a most dull topic.'

'Dull?'

'Politics, Arthur. Politics bores me. I want to talk about something else.'

'Of course, my lady.' Arthur forced himself to smile. 'And what would you like to discuss?'

She stared at him for a moment, in silence, and then frowned. 'I don't know,' she said irritably. 'This is too much like hard work, Arthur. Conversation is supposed to be light-hearted and spontaneous.Yours is neither.'

'I apologise, my lady.'

'Tush! It's too bad. Really, it's too bad.' She turned away from him and stared fixedly at the pa.s.sing countryside. Arthur stiffened as he felt the awkwardness of the situation grow between them. But he was in no mood for petty conversations. He was genuinely worried about the news from France. He recalled his time at Angers, and fondly recalled Monsieur and Madame de Pignerolle. He also recalled a conversation he had once had with the elegant old man about the tensions building up between the social cla.s.ses of France. If no compromise was achieved, Monsieur de Pignerolle had said, then the country would break apart. The old regime, to which he belonged, would be swept away in the ensuing chaos. Arthur had respected the man from the first. He had embodied all that was good in the French aristocracy: grace, refinement and a sense of tradition that stretched back over generations. Arthur fervently hoped that the crisis would pa.s.s swiftly.The very idea of conflict between the cla.s.ses that make up a society filled him with anxiety. As he sat in the carriage and stared at the peasants in the field he could not help wondering what would happen here if the common people once got a whiff of the rebellious spirit that seemed to have gripped France this last month.

Servants from the castle had been sent ahead to erect a marquee and arrange the tables and chairs. The castle band had arrived in a wagon and set up their music stands and stools, and had rehea.r.s.ed the dances they were to play after lunch. Cold food and chilled wines and punches had been carefully laid out on a long table, and all was set for the guests as their carriages trundled up to the site. Lady Aldborough had long since given up on her young chaperone and as soon as her carriage had stopped moving she allowed herself to be handed down and hurried off to join a small crowd of other ladies gathering beside the marquee. Arthur watched her go with a tinge of regret. She was not without good looks, a decent fortune and good connections. Exactly the sort of woman William would have urged him to cultivate with a view to a useful long-term friendship, even if nothing matrimonial transpired.

But he could not shake off the growing shroud of gloom that seemed to have enveloped him in recent months. Unlike most of the other officers he had some sense of wider consequences, and the thrill of a carpe diem carpe diem lifestyle had begun to pall. He must master his debts and begin to plan for the future.With the news of events in France filtering across Europe like a bad vapour, Arthur could not share in the good spirits of the picnic guests around him. He gazed at them, for the most part young and carefree, as he himself should be.Yet there was a blindness to the world around them that made them all seem quite vulnerable. In the fields below the hill, the black dots of peasants scratched a living from their wretched smallholdings.They could barely pay the rents demanded of them by the landowner's agents. It would only take one bad harvest to drive them to despair, and desperate people were capable of any degree of violence. So there was something poignant about this moment of innocent and ignorant pleasure and he realised that he should try to savour it while he could. Even if he was wrong about far-off events, he would not be young for long. lifestyle had begun to pall. He must master his debts and begin to plan for the future.With the news of events in France filtering across Europe like a bad vapour, Arthur could not share in the good spirits of the picnic guests around him. He gazed at them, for the most part young and carefree, as he himself should be.Yet there was a blindness to the world around them that made them all seem quite vulnerable. In the fields below the hill, the black dots of peasants scratched a living from their wretched smallholdings.They could barely pay the rents demanded of them by the landowner's agents. It would only take one bad harvest to drive them to despair, and desperate people were capable of any degree of violence. So there was something poignant about this moment of innocent and ignorant pleasure and he realised that he should try to savour it while he could. Even if he was wrong about far-off events, he would not be young for long.

After lunch had finished the guests began to move towards the marquee where a portable wooden floor had been set up. It had been arranged that Lady Aldborough would give her first dance to Arthur, but now it seemed that she had transferred her affections to Major John Cradock, a beau of one of the cavalry regiments. Since there were more men than women at the picnic, the remaining females were spoken for. As the band struck up the introduction to the first dance the couples moved on to the dance floor and left Arthur and a handful of others at the side to watch. When the music began the couples on the dance floor swept into motion in a synchronised display of footwork.

Arthur watched for a while, before he was aware of an uncomfortable p.r.i.c.kling sensation under his collar.Turning away from the marquee, he walked over to the covered table where the silver fruit punch bowls gleamed in the sunshine. He helped himself to a gla.s.s and then wandered away towards a small knoll covered with chestnut trees. It was cool in the shadows and he found the trunk of a tree that had fallen many years before and was now dry and hard. Arthur sat down, facing away from the marquee and gazed down the slope towards the distant smudge of Dublin, sprawling across the landscape. Above him the dry rustle of wind through the leaves was soothing and for a moment he leaned back and shut his eyes and breathed gently, scenting the earthy odour of the moss and flowers that grew beneath the chestnut trees.

Then, as the music stopped and there was a faint patter of applause, Arthur reached inside his jacket for the slim volume he had started to read a few days before. He shuffled his shoulders to find the most comfortable position to lean against the fallen trunk and opened his book, flipping through the pages until he found the place he had left off. He took a deep breath, and let it out slowly as he began to read. Soon, he became absorbed and his attention was entirely focused on the material in front of him. So it was that he did not notice the girl's presence until she was almost standing over him. Then, with a start he scrambled to his feet and snapped the book shut.

'Sorry, madam, I didn't see you.'

She smiled. 'It is I who should apologise, sir. For intruding on your solitude.'

'Yes, well . . .'

'In truth, I was curious. I saw you walk up this way from the dance floor.'

'Indeed.' Arthur's expression softened at the sight of the good-humoured twinkle in the eyes that watched him from beneath a fringe of brown curls. She smiled at him again.

'Ah, but you have a book with you. That explains it then. So much more rewarding than enjoying the company of others.'

For a moment Arthur felt irritated, then saw that she had gauged his character perfectly, and his face creased into a smile.

She laughed. 'I thought you must have a sense of humour.'

'It has been noted in some circles,' Arthur conceded. 'But my sense of humour has not always been welcomed.'

'That has also been noted.'

Arthur stiffened. 'What can I do for you, madam?'

'Kitty. My name is Kitty Pakenham.' She held out her hand and Arthur bent to kiss it. 'And I already know who you are, sir. I came up here to see if you would be kind enough to ask me to dance.'

'You are a forward girl, Miss Pakenham.' Arthur grinned. 'But I should be delighted to ask you for the next dance.'

'And I should be delighted to accept.'

They turned towards the marquee and started down the slope. Arthur could not help but be amused by the girl's spirited att.i.tude. He raised the book back towards the opening in his jacket, but she reached over and stayed his arm.

'What's that?'

'Nothing important.'

She tilted her head to read the t.i.tle. 'An Essay Concerning Human Understanding. Locke, isn't it?'

'That's right.'

'A strange choice of reading matter for a young man. Stranger still for an aide at the castle. Someone told me you were a serious, bookish sort.'

'Let me guess. Lady Aldborough.'

'You have her measure, sir,' Kitty laughed.

'And she has mine.'

They joined the other couples on the floor just as the band struck up with the next dance. Arthur had no time to place his hands with much delicacy as Kitty grabbed him and they were swept away into the swish and flow of skirts and tightly fitting breeches. She was only a fair dancer and Arthur, being much more accomplished, found it difficult to keep changing his step to avoid her misplaced feet. When the dance came to an end she laughed at his anxious expression.

'Oh, dear me. Have I been such a terrible partner?'

'Not at all.' Arthur attempted to be gallant. 'You dance with . . . exuberance.'

'Exuberance!' She shook her head. 'I've never heard it called that before. But you are being kind to me, sir. Now I fear I have imposed myself upon you for one dance too many.'

'Has the next dance been taken?' Given the shortage of ladies there was every chance that Kitty had already been claimed. Indeed, she looked round and frowned as her eyes alighted on Major Cradock, engaged in intense conversation with Lady Aldborough. She turned back to Arthur with a fresh smile.

'It seems you are in luck. The next dance is yours, should you wish it.'

'Thank you.'

They spent the rest of the afternoon together, either dancing - which sorely tested Arthur's agility - or in light-hearted conversation. It turned out that the Pakenhams lived only thirty miles from Dangan and there were many common acquaintances in the area. By the time the dancing had finished and the guests began to head back to their carriages Arthur's earlier preoccupations were long forgotten and the gentle teasing nature of this young woman was peculiarly attractive - addictive even. At length, she was called away by a friend in whose carriage she had arranged to travel back to Dublin.

'Good Lord!' Arthur glanced round anxiously. But there was no sign of Lady Aldborough, or her carriage amongst the few that remained. 'I was supposed to travel back in Lady Aldborough's carriage. She must think me terribly rude.'

'I wouldn't worry about her,' Kitty's friend replied. 'Beau Cradock was kind enough to accompany her back to the castle in her carriage. They left some time ago.'

'd.a.m.n!' Arthur growled. If word of this got back to the vicereine she would not be happy with him.Then something else occurred to him. 'How the h.e.l.l am I supposed to get back?'

Kitty looked down in embarra.s.sment. 'Of course, I'd like to offer you a place in our carriage. But I'm afraid there's no room.'

'No matter,' Arthur smiled. 'I'm sure I will find a seat. It is has been a fine afternoon, Miss Pakenham.'

'It has,' she smiled. 'It's a shame that I have to return home tomorrow. Otherwise, I'd have enjoyed the pleasure of your company a little longer.'

Arthur felt a sharp pang of despair at her words, and the melancholic mood began to well up inside him again. He made himself smile. 'I'm sure we will meet again, Miss Pakenham.'

'I'll look forward to it.'

Chapter 49.

The Regiment de la Fere had been transferred to Auxonne, in the Burgundy region. When Napoleon arrived he was disappointed to find that Auxonne was a small provincial market town with few of the sights and distractions that had beguiled him in Paris. The barracks were a dilapidated sprawl of buildings on the edge of town, even though the regiment boasted its own artillery school where French officers, and a handful of foreigners, learned their trade and experimented with all manner of refinements to the charge, shot and the guns. Napoleon had been informed that the commandant of the school was General Baron du Tiel, something of a legend amongst the more professional of the artillery officers of the French Army. It was a fine opportunity to study under such a man and Napoleon looked forward to meeting the general as soon as possible.

It was late afternoon when he presented himself at the guardhouse. Once his doc.u.ments had been checked he was directed to headquarters. Napoleon found the adjutant's office and knocked on the door.

'Come!'

Napoleon entered. Behind the desk Captain Des Mazis glanced up and his eyes widened as he recognised the arrival.

Napoleon saluted and then handed his doc.u.ments over to the adjutant. 'Lieutenant Buona Parte returning from leave, sir.'

'Buona Parte! Good G.o.d, how long has it been?' Captain Des Mazis frowned as he tried to recall. 'A year? No, nearly a year and half, isn't it?'

'Yes, sir.'

'I'm surprised to see you back.We'd almost given up hope that you'd return. Any illness that causes a man to be away from his regiment for so long tends to be the kind you never recover from.' He smiled and stood up, offering his hand.

Napoleon took it. 'It's good to be back, sir.'

'Good?' Captain Des Mazis shook his head ruefully. 'There's not much good about this town, as I'm sure you've seen already. Quite a change from Valence.' He smiled faintly.'Still, there's a few places to drink and enough wh.o.r.es to go round. It'll do. At least you'll have a room in the officers' mess. Down the corridor and turn left at the end, into the hall. You can't miss it. It's the only cheerful spot for miles around.'

Napoleon saluted, left the adjutant's office and followed his directions to the mess. The sounds of laughter and high-spirited conversation carried up the hall. Napoleon left the porter with instructions to find the mess sergeant and arrange some quarters for him and then paid him off. Smoothing down his hair and twitching the creases out of his jacket, Napoleon entered the mess.

The accommodation provided for the regiment's officers was just as run down as the rest of the barracks. The floor was bare stone, and a few rickety chairs and tables were positioned along the damp walls. In the centre of the room a loose circle of young officers stood about two of their comrades who each had a bottle of wine perched on his head. Both men had drawn swords and were carefully keeping pace with each other as they tried to topple the other's bottle.The other officers cheered them on, and paid no attention to Napoleon as he approached the ring. Squeezing between the shoulders of two of the onlookers, Napoleon could at last see that one of the fencers was his friend Alexander Des Mazis. Alexander stood stiffly, legs braced, eyes fixed on the tip of his opponent's blade; the very picture of concentration and focus. Then he slid a foot forward, eased his weight behind it and quickly stretched out his arm. As the other man moved to parry, Alexander disengaged, raised the point and flicked the blade across the top of his opponent's head.The bottle tumbled over and struck the ground in an explosion of green gla.s.s and blood-red wine.

'Touche!' Alexander shouted in triumph, tilting his head and catching the other bottle in his spare hand.'That's a half-louis you owe me.'

The other officer nodded ruefully, reached into his fob, pulled out a gold coin and tossed it to Alexander as the crowd began to break up. Alexander glanced round at his companions with a beaming smile until his eyes fixed on the small figure staring back at him with a grin.

'Napoleon!' Alexander sheathed his blade and strode over to grasp his friend by the shoulder.'I thought I'd seen the last of you. Disappeared into that bolt hole of Corsica never to be heard from again. Now, here you are! What on earth kept you away for so long?'

'Illness . . . Family business.'

'And some woman, I'll wager.' Alexander nudged him.

'Are you so keen to lose that half-louis already?' Napoleon laughed. 'Besides, I have little time for women.'

'Of course.' Alexander made a serious face. 'When the choice is between curling up with a woman or a book, the book wins every time.'

'Depends on the book.'

'Then you haven't met the right woman yet. I'll have to set that right as soon as I can.' Alexander raised the bottle. 'Come on, let's have a drink.'

They sat down at one of the tables and Alexander called out to one of the mess stewards to bring some gla.s.ses. He bit into the end of the cork protruding from the bottle and pulled it out with a grunt, spitting the cork on to the floor.

'A local wine. Not the best, but it'll help us to forget its origins.'The steward hurried over with two gla.s.ses and Alexander filled them to the brim. He raised his gla.s.s. 'Good to see you again.'

'And you.'

They downed the wine in one and Napoleon tried not to flinch at its acid burn in his throat and stomach. 'Rough stuff.'

'And it's as good as we can get in Auxonne.' Alexander shook his head. 'Not the best of times, I think. Everything's in short supply and prices are rising all the time. I haven't tasted a really good wine in months. And thanks to the poor harvest there's barely enough flour in town to bake a decent loaf of bread. It's enough to make a grown man weep.'

'Yes . . .' Napoleon recalled the pinched faces of the townspeople he had pa.s.sed in Auxonne.While Alexander might have to forgo his luxuries, they were struggling to keep themselves and their families from starvation. 'It's the same in nearly every town I pa.s.sed through on the way here from Paris.There's been rioting too. I tell you, Alexander, I'm worried. It feels like the whole country is about to . . .'

'About to what?'

'I don't know exactly. But it won't be pretty.'

Alexander shrugged. 'That's what the parliament's for. The King will give them all a chance to let off some steam. Once the clergy, the n.o.bles and the commoners have had a chance to air their grievances it'll all blow over.You'll see.'

Napoleon raised his eyebrows. 'You really think so?'

'Of course.'Alexander filled their gla.s.ses again.'Look here.The King needs taxes. He can't get the money from the n.o.bles. They just won't stand for it. And since the clergy is stuffed with the sons of the n.o.bility they're hardly likely to go against the n.o.bles. So that leaves the third estate outnumbered two to one. They'll have to put up with an increase in taxes, whether they like it or not.'

'I can tell you now, they won't like it. And they won't stand for it any longer.'

Alexander snorted. 'Their stomachs might be empty, but the rest of their bodies are full of hot air.You were there at Lyons.You saw how quickly they gave in at the first sign of a bayonet.We've dealt with two more riots since then, with exactly the same result. A sharp reminder is what the rabble needs. That, or a decent harvest, or a few handouts of free bread, and they'll quieten down soon enough.You'll see.'

Napoleon stared down into his gla.s.s and swilled the red wine round just below the rim. He shrugged. 'Let's hope you are right.'

'Anyway, enough of politics. What on earth have you been up to since you left us in Valence?'

As Napoleon related his news, his mind was still filled with grave doubts about the future. If all the n.o.bility were as oblivious as Alexander to the anger swelling up in the hungry streets of the cities and in the surrounding countryside, then they would never even see the approaching storm that might one day sweep them away. Napoleon had gauged the popular mood in Paris. He had read the pamphlets and heard the guarded speeches that raged against the injustices afflicting France. It was as clear as day to him. The ordinary people - the peasants, the town labourers, the merchants, lawyers and the rest of the bourgeois - every one of them had simply had more than they could bear, and their voices would demand to be heard on the day that the Estates General were convened. Glancing round the other officers in the mess, Napoleon found it hard to believe that they could be so blind to the condition of their compatriots.