Close to the Colours (105th Foot. The Prince of Wales Own Wessex Regimen Book 2)

by Martin McDowell

  “Well, ma’am. I can only hope. About evens, I’d say, perhaps a bit better.”

  Drake swallowed a sandwich, almost whole.

  “I’ll say! Better than evens. I’ll say!”

  He looked at Lady Constance, then at Jane and Cecily.

  “Notwithstanding the deeds of our esteemed and respected Colonel and Senior Major, he carried the whole battalion. Didn’t put a foot wrong! In three tough battles, our Light Company, led by him, thoroughly distinguished itself and brought nothing but honour and recognition to the Regiment. Odds on, I’d say, or should be, at least.”

  Carr screwed his mouth sideways.

  “That’s kind, Nathaniel. One can only hope, but it rests on so many other things.”

  With that, there came a long moment of silence, perhaps the others hoping for some expansion on the “many other things”, but nothing was forthcoming. Therefore, with the tea drunk and the sandwiches consumed, Lady Constance decided that this chapter of the afternoon was at an end and, in addition, she was thoroughly aware herself of the paramount reason for the gathering. She stood, to be immediately followed by Carr and Drake rising to their feet.

  “I have some letters to write. I will leave you young people to your chatter and whatnot. Please make yourselves very comfortable. Dinner will be 7.00 for 7.30.”

  Accompanied by bows from Drake and Carr, she left the room. Drake now stood up and looked at Cecily.

  “And we have things to talk about! Boring bits about a wedding.”

  Cecily looked at him with mock anger.

  “They are not boring bits! They are thoroughly engaging, being the proper arrangements for our wedding!”

  The last sentence was spoken forcefully, her voice rising to the last word, but then she noticed that Drake’s eyes were moving from her to the door that led into the garden and back again, so it finally dawned on her that this was the excuse to leave. She stood and Carr again had to, as she spoke.

  “Yes, but you’re right. Who wants to listen to someone else’s guest list and seating plans?”

  Drake chimed in.

  “And choosing of hymns!”

  “Yes, that too! The choosing of hymns.”

  She walked towards the French windows.

  “We’ll take a walk outside. It’s hardly cold at all.”

  With that she pulled her shawl off the back of the settee and wrapped it tightly around herself. Drake opened the door, they both left and Drake closed it behind them.

  The sound came to Carr like the Clap of Doom. Through the glass, he watched both depart, then he looked at Jane. He sat down, then he stood up, then he sat down again. His boots creaked and his collar felt tight and hot. She, on the other hand, looked at him levelly and calmly, a half smile on her face. It was as though she were examining every part of him, carefully weighing all that she had come to know about Captain Henry Carr. He was transfixed by the look, almost mesmerised, so it was Jane who broke the silence, being shatteringly forward.

  “You haven’t got all day, you know!”

  Then she laughed, looked straight at him, then down at her hands, then back up, her hands now together in her lap. Carr laughed himself and was still laughing when he crossed the room to kneel at her feet. He had crossed the distance so quickly that his knees skidded on the carpet, almost colliding with her. He needed both to retain his balance, whilst but one was the proper form, but holding to that would have deposited him in a sprawling heap at her feet. He was still laughing when he managed the correct words.

  “Jane Perry, will you do me the honour of agreeing to marry me?”

  He thought he should say more. Typically, he had given the thing no previous thought.

  “And thus become my wife.”

  She giggled again at the clumsy collection, then looked down, then back up, directly at him.

  “Yes. I will. I accept.”

  Carr took both her hands in his, which then gave vent to another burst of clumsy merriment from him, something between a hiccup and a chuckle. He was reaching up to kiss her, but at that moment Maud came in to clear the table, to see him now on one knee before Miss Perry, both chortling like rainspouts in a thunderstorm. Carr looked around at the treasured servant, himself now carried away on a wave of euphoria.

  “Hello Maud. We’re going to get married!”

  “Oh Sir! That’s lovely. I’m glad, right glad!”

  ***

  Chapter Twelve

  A Question of Letters

  Carr stood before the door, summoning up the kind of spirit and determination that was more the requirement for storming a breach than to approach a prospective Father-in-Law. Jane was standing to one side, looking at him encouragingly; smiling, nodding and then going through the motions of knocking on a door. Carr, on the other hand, felt himself to be embarking on a ‘Forlorn Hope’, with little chance of success, merely performing what needed to be done, a ‘going through the motions’. Jane had insisted that they ask her Father’s permission, but Carr knew full well the dislike that the General harboured for the 105th and, as he had gathered from previous personal meetings with him, the dislike extended and intensified when applied to himself. Nevertheless, again dressed as though for Royalty, Carr did knock at the study door. A muffled “Enter” came from beyond the thick wood. Carr took one last look at Jane, she still nodding encouragingly, then he turned the handle and went in.

  He was in the General’s study. For any other Officer, Carr would have believed himself to be in the private room of a dedicated soldier, for all around were artefacts, pictures and maps, of wars and conflicts since Roman times. However, somehow the impression was of dust, age and slight neglect, although all surfaces shone in the weak daylight. Pride of place was given to the full set of armour of one of Cromwell’s Ironsides, this actually found by Carr when out on manoeuvres in Somerset and donated by him and Drake to Perry himself, but he was not allowed to dwell on the thought nor even mention it. General Perry was sat behind a huge desk with a face like granite, granite going red from a bloody sunset beyond the tinted windows. He twirled a medieval poignard between the thumb and forefinger of his right hand, the point meeting the top of the index finger of his left. The whole was lowered to just below his chin as he sat regarding Carr, who came to the attention, his shako held regulation in his left hand against his ribs, whilst he saluted with his right. There was no acknowledgment other than the General dropping the weapon onto his desk. His voice came from way back in his throat, as though he were issuing a threat both dire and final.

  “I know why you’ve come, Carr, and you can save your breath! Jane marrying you is out of the question. I’ve nothing further to say and neither have you. Leave, now, get out! That’s an order!”

  Carr opened his mouth as if to say something, but closed it again. Get out was the order and so he did exactly that, spinning on his right heel and leaving the room, closing the door behind him. He went immediately to Jane, whose demeanour had changed utterly, she was almost in tears. Carr took her right hand and kissed it.

  “This changes nothing! We will be married. If not soon, then soon after that. My Brevetcy will be confirmed and you have your majority, you’re over 21. With both, we’ll get by.”

  He looked at her and smiled, a wide, encouraging grin. She responded, though her mouth was quivering and Carr laughed out loud.

  “Take a midnight ride, if we have to!”

  He grinned at her again, his teeth white in the gloom of the corridor.

  “We’ll make plans! But first things first. I become a Major, that means we can stand on our own feet, needing no-one!”

  He kissed her hand.

  “Don’t worry. I love you! Everything will be fine.”

  He replaced his shako on his head and gave the top a cheerful tap, which made her grin, briefly, and then he left, seeing himself out. Jane dried her eyes, tidied her hair and went into her Father’s room, without knocking. He, surprised, looked up and over the rims of sparse, steel rimmed glasse
s at his utterly unhappy only daughter, but her grief made no difference.

  “It’s out of the question. The man’s unreliable, a poor Officer and wholly the wrong sort that I have in mind for you. Put it out of your head, I’m telling you, out of your head!”

  Jane stood her ground, her eyes sparking defiance.

  “No! It is Henry Carr that I want for my husband and he wants me for his wife!”

  The vehemence of her outburst took Perry by surprise. Never had his daughter spoken to him in such a fashion; it was such a shock that he could think of but one reply, which was already lodged in his mind.

  “I wish you to meet Lucius Tavender. I’ve made mention of you to him and he appeared quite receptive.”

  Jane exploded.

  “Quite receptive! Do you think I’d settle for that? Tavender is an odious man that I’ll have nothing to do with. As you reject Henry Carr, so I reject him!”

  She calmed and took a deep breath. Perry himself remained silent and in a state of amazement.

  “Father! I am over 21, which means I now have full control of the money of my own, left me by both Grandparents. I’d wish to marry with your consent, of course I would, but Henry Carr is my choice! I wish him for my husband! If I have to, I’ll pack a bag and leave. We’ll be married somewhere, and that’ll be that. I’ll be sorry that you’ll not be there, but, but, …… so be it. If needs be, when he’s a Major, I can join him in The Peninsula. That’s where he’s going and I’m prepared to join him.”

  She straightened her shoulders and lifted her head. Her defiance was complete. Perry, meanwhile had aroused to anger, both at his daughter’s rejection of his wishes and the sheer rebelliousness of her words and attitude towards him. He rose from his desk to look at her, the steel glasses now thrown onto the desktop.

  “Do that and I’ll disown you! Do you hear? Disown you. You’ll be no daughter of mine!”

  Jane looked him full in the face. Her boldness and confidence growing by the second.

  “So be it!”

  She paused to allow that to sink in.

  “If you want me, I’ll be at Mother’s grave.”

  Carr, meanwhile, had arrived at another door, Lacey’s, which was open and Lacey could be seen at his desk. Carr knocked and stood in the doorway. Lacey looked up.

  “Ah, Carr! Good day to you!”

  Carr walked forward, searching for words, a hesitancy which Lacey noticed and he decided to help, if only to help Carr relax somewhat.

  “Sit down. Now. What?”

  Carr took a deep breath.

  “Sir, I feel embarrassed to press the point, but my Brevetcy, Sir. Have you heard anything?”

  Lacey’s eyebrows accelerated up his forehead.

  “I have, indeed I have.”

  He leaned over to get a sight of the door.

  “Bryce!”

  There was the sound of a chair scraping back, then the slightly rotund Sergeant Clerk stood in the door.

  “Sir?”

  “That letter from Horse Guards, about Captain Carr, here. Be so good as to fetch it!”

  As Bryce disappeared, Lacey grinned encouragingly, looking directly at Carr, who felt his spirits rise more then a little.

  Within a minute, Bryce returned and placed the letter, minus its cover, on Lacey’s desk. Lacey picked it up and looked at Carr. Bryce had not departed and he was smiling also. Lacey began to scan down the page, speaking odd words.

  “Promotions Board …… normal procedure ………… current hostilities ….. yes, yes…..”

  He looked at Carr.

  “Perry received a copy of this!”

  He continued scanning.

  “Ah, here it is. “Regarding the Brevetcy of Captain Carr, the Board wishes to have confirmation from the Brigadier who commanded Captain Carr at Corunna, who can vouch for the worthiness of the aforesaid to receive his Majority. Or otherwise, as the case may be.”

  Lacey looked at Carr, grinning between licking his lips. Carr, on the other hand, felt mildly disappointed and tried not to show it.

  “Thank you, Sir. That’s encouraging, but who would that Brigadier be, do you think?”

  Lacey leaned forward, suddenly enthusiastic.

  “Why Bentinck! Who else? He spoke to you personally in that damnable farm you held, did he not, and Hope spoke very highly of you, to him, myself and Anson. Him of the Guards. Should be a shoo in, I’d say. We got a letter off to him, ……”

  He turned to look at Bryce, who was also grinning paternally at Carr.

  “ ……… when, Bryce?”

  Bryce needed a second, before realising that he was being spoken to by his Colonel.

  “From memory, Sir, four days ago.”

  Lacey turned to smile reassuringly at Carr.

  “There, Carr. We can hope for a reply any day now.”

  Carr stood, now grinning from ear to ear himself, his spirits altogether much lifted.

  “Thank you, Sir.”

  He paused to look at the smirking pair opposite.

  “Well, we can but wait. Sir!”

  He came to the attention and saluted, which was returned by both.

  Whilst these events played out in battalion headquarters, General Perry, remaining in his study, had at last got around to reading his own correspondence and was reading his copy of the same letter from Horse Guards as read out by Lacey to Carr. His face reddened and his brow darkened, the idea of Carr becoming a Major, perhaps to command a battalion, appalled him. On top, his remaining a penuried Captain would do no harm to his own ambitions towards Jane. Tavender had very rich people; did she really want to live in some backstreet kennel somewhere? When faced with that as a future prospect she would change her mind, he felt certain. He may be too late, but Bentinck must be dissuaded. Immediately he reached for pen, ink and his stock of cheap paper, then he began to write. He got no further than:-

  To: General William Bentinck – Plymouth Barracks

  From: General Timothy Perry – Taunton

  Perry then leaned back to gather his thoughts, but could not assemble too significant a collection, however, his inherent ill nature came to his rescue so that he then vented his pent up spleen on the specific notion of Carr becoming a Major and, also generally, on the subject of the 105th Foot. It stretched over three pages, but said nothing of particular substance other than Carr had resigned his Commission in order to fight a duel and had then rejoined as a Captain into what he described as a ‘ragtag rabble of detachments’. With the last flourish of his signature, Perry felt much calmer, such that he was able to ring the servant’s bell. In the space before the maid’s arrival he sealed the letter and addressed a cover, to then place it on her tray, which she had brought, in the hope of clearing the several empty cups. He looked at her sternly, instantly making her very apprehensive.

  “See that this gets posted today. Today! Am I clear?”

  The maid curtsied and gratefully left the room.

  ***

  Carr walked out of the barracks feeling both ‘up and down’, as he would put it, automatically acknowledging the ‘present arms’ of the sentries at the gate. He walked, almost without picking his way, the distance to their billet in the inn, his mind going in all directions, until he reached the room he shared with Drake, to find the door open. The reason for such was that he could hear a female voice coming from within, which in a second he recognised as Cecily’s. He entered to find them sat on opposite sides of the small table, inevitably holding hands. Both looked up and both were torn between immediately giving their good news, or commiserating with Carr over his bad, which they had heard about, for Jane had left her Mother’s grave to then call on Cecily. The result was a conflict, both speaking at the same time; from Drake, “Henry, we’ve excellent news” and from Cecily, “Henry, I’m so sorry!” Carr acknowledged first that which the lady had spoken.

  “Never mind. We’ll find a way, time is with us!”

  She smiled weakly, then Carr looked at Drake.

>   “And your news is?”

  Drake’s face lit up with pure joy, much of which infected the visage of Cecily.

  “That we are going to be married next month! We’ll get the thing done before we depart again for Portugal.”

  He regained Cecily’s hands in his own and both indulged in a deep exchange of affectionate eye gazing. Carr looked at the pair and debated for a moment whether or not he should break in on their amorous reverie, but it was Drake who broke his gaze away.

  “Oh, I know, I said only when I get my Captaincy, but we can’t see the point in waiting. A Captain’s pay is not what we need, not any longer. Things have gone rather well at home, the iron ore quarries, so I’m told, and I now have enough money to purchase a Captaincy, even if my temporary is not confirmed. There are plenty of vacancies, what with the casualties from the retreat and all, and I can now describe myself as a veteran Officer, of Italy, Portugal and Spain!”

  He turned to look at Cecily, who looked adoringly back. Carr could not decide whether to be glad or sad; to be happy for the pair, or dejected because they had the means to comfortably do what he could not, but good form prevailed.

  “My sincerest congratulations to you both. I’m sure you’ll be very happy.”

  Cecily rose up, ran over and kissed him.

  “I’m sure you will, too. I’m sure things will come right for you.”

  In marked contrast, the next evening saw a major gathering in the almost squalid by comparison, barrack room of Jed Deakin, all gathered around the table close to the cribs of Jed and Bridie, and Nelly and Henry Nicholls. The gathering, as it usually did, included Miles, Davey, Byford, Saunders, and Fearnly. Joe Pike and Mary sat together, inevitably all touching that could. On this occasion Chaplain’s Assistant Sedgwicke was present, awkward and saying little in such company, but glad of his place and their warm acceptance. The men were cleaning their muskets after musket drill with newcome Militia and the women were making and mending. It wasn’t long before they descended into their usual squabbling, in this case complaints by Tom Miles to Zeke Saunders that he was using more than his share of the brickdust they had for polishing their muskets and other metal. Jed Deakin had soon had enough and went back into his crib to find a bag that he threw at Tom Miles.