'Oh,' Arthur hadn't been expecting such an affirmation and did not want to part with twelve guineas for a pair of boots that would be excruciatingly uncomfortable. But if Kitty liked them…
'Very well,' he nodded to the assistant. 'I'll take them.'
'Thank you, sir. Will that be cash or account?'
Arthur felt a warm flush of embarrassment in his cheeks. 'I don't have an account here, and don't have the required cash with me.'
The smile faded a little from the assistant's face. 'That is unfortunate, sir.'
'Yes. Would you be kind enough to put the boots aside while I visit my bank to draw some cash?'
'Of course, sir. But a small deposit will be required. Ten shillings will suffice.'
Arthur nodded unhappily, sat down and pulled the boots off, relieved to take the pressure off his heels. He frowned as he saw that the heels of his stockings were already stretched and torn. Slipping his shoes on, he fastened the buckles while the assistant started to write a small note.
'May I have your name, sir?'
'It's Simpson,' Kitty said quickly. 'The Honourable Miles Simpson.'
'Thank you, my lady.' The assistant completed the note and slipped it between the two boots on the counter. 'Our policy is to hold the boots for a week,' he explained. 'After that they will be returned to the window. The deposit is, alas, non-refundable, sir.'
'I understand.' Arthur rose to his feet, took out his purse and handed the man the required money, and then offered his arm to Kitty. 'Come, my dear.'
She slipped her hand through his arm and the assistant hurried to the door to open it for them as they swept out of the shop and on to the street.
Kitty pressed her spare hand to her face to conceal her laughter as she pulled Arthur along the street, out of sight of the shoemaker's shop.
'Simpson?' he queried. 'Why Simpson?'
'Why not? It's a perfectly admirable name. Besides, I had a wonderful governess called Simpson.' She took her arm back from Arthur. 'Well, that was fun.'
'Yes. I suppose it was.' Now that the moment was over Arthur was not sure what to do next. He had Kitty to himself and should not waste the opportunity to further their friendship. 'Miss Pakenham – Kitty.Would you do me the honour of having some lunch with me?' He nodded towards the better end of the street. 'At Brown's.'
'Lunch at Brown's?' She raised her finely plucked eyebrows. 'Well, I don't know.What would people say if they saw me in the company of a young rake?'
'Ah, but since we are married, there would be absolutely nothing for people to remark at.'
Kitty stared at him a moment and then laughed. 'Well, Miles, my dear, it seems the Simpsons are dining at Brown's today.'
They did not dare to keep up the charade when they reached the hotel's dining room. Brown's was the kind of establishment that drew heavily on the best of Dublin society for its clientele and Arthur had to nod greetings to several acquaintances before the maitre showed them to a table overlooking the street. Arthur did not pay much attention to the food he ordered and as he ate his mind was wholly fixed on Kitty. Her conversation maintained the light-heartedness she habitually affected. When he tried to shift the ground to a more serious subject, she artfully directed the conversation back to gossip and frivolous humour. But Arthur was happy to go along with her in the way that young men are inclined to defer to women they are keen to impress.When at last he happened to glance at the case clock against the wall opposite the window, Arthur was shocked to see that nearly two hours had passed and that he was already fifteen minutes late for his meeting with John Page.
'Damn!'
Kitty started. 'What on earth?'
'I completely forgot an appointment,' Arthur blushed. 'Kitty, I must go.'
'What?' She looked hurt. 'Already?'
Arthur asked for the bill. When it arrived, he was horrified to see that it came to more than he had in his purse. Kitty read his expression precisely and reached over to pat his hand.
'Please allow me. It's the least I can do if I have made you late.'
'Good God! No.' Arthur leaned back in his chair with an insulted expression. 'I couldn't possibly allow that.'
'Ah, but I have the advantage,' Kitty smiled. 'You can't pay for the meal, and I can.'
Arthur cringed inside. This was awful. Quite the most awful thing that could happen to him. He had hoped to impress Kitty Pakenham, yet here he was, financially embarrassed and worse still, beholden to her in a way that no gentleman should ever be. But what could he do? There was the bill on the table before him and the rude mathematics were quite incontestable. He cursed himself for paying the ten-shilling deposit on the boots.That was at Kitty's instigation, he reasoned. So there was at least some responsibility on her part for his embarrassment. He looked at her and nodded.
'I insist on paying you back at the earliest opportunity.'
'I should think so! I am not in the habit of subsidising the eating habits of others. In fact I insist that you repay your debt as soon as possible. This Saturday afternoon.You will come to tea at our house in Russell Square. And you can repay me then,' Kitty said firmly.
Arthur nodded his agreement, and bowed his head as he rose from the table. When he reached the door he glanced back at Kitty and smiled as he saw her watching him. She flapped her hand to usher him away and Arthur hurried off to the offices of John Page.The agent was sipping from a cup of tea as Arthur was shown into his room.
Page was a stout man with a fleshly neck and heavy cheeks that were ruddy and had a misleadingly cheerful red hue. His cold dark eyes revealed his true nature, that of a pitiless individual dedicated to amassing as large a personal fortune as possible from the commissions he drew from the income of his landed clients. He rose ponderously from his chair and ostentatiously drew a heavy gold pocket watch from his fob, and raised his thick eyebrows. Arthur ignored the gesture and got straight down to business.
'My brother Richard has written to me from London to request that you realise his assets here in Ireland as soon as possible.'
Page sat up in surprise. 'Sell everything, my lord?'
'Everything. Starting with the house in Merrion Street. Then the Kildare estates, and finally, Dangan.'
Page frowned thoughtfully for an instant before he responded. 'The first two shouldn't present too much of a problem. Prices in Dublin have been steadily improving since the establishment of the parliament. However, since the trouble in France, there is a perception that Irish property is no longer the safe investment it once was. Not that anything will come of these unnatural French notions of egalitarianism, but there is a fear amongst property speculators that the Irish might revolt, and perception is everything in the property market, sir. If we sell now, the Merrion Street house should fetch a good price. The Kildare estates likewise. Dangan is the problem. It is, as you must realise yourself, not in saleable condition at present. The castle will require considerable work on it to achieve a good market price. I take it you wish to authorise me to act on your behalf in such remedial expenses?'
'Of course, as long as the costs are contained.'
'I'll do my best, sir.' He smiled at Arthur, and there was a moment of silence before Page coughed and continued politely, 'Is there anything else?'
'Well, yes,' Arthur began awkwardly. 'You see, the thing is that I'm somewhat financially embarrassed myself at the moment and-'
'How much do you require, sir?'
'How much?'
'I assume you wish me to extend your line of credit?'
'If it's not too much trouble.'
'None at all, sir. I have, in my time, been of similar service to many young gentlemen like yourself.'
Arthur was sure he had. It was a fine way to maintain clients from one generation to the next. Arthur raised his eyes as if making a quick mental calculation.'Let me see. A trifling amount, say forty guineas.'
Page nodded, and reached down to a drawer behind his desk. There was a rattle of a key and then Arthur heard the dull chink of
the agent's hand reaching into a large pile of coins. Page glanced at him. 'Forty, you say?'
Arthur nodded and Page counted out the coins, in four neat piles on the desk. He pulled out a small ledger, flicked through the pages until he came to Arthur's entry and then dipped his quill and made a note. 'There we are, sir. On the same terms as the existing sum.'
'Thank you, Page.That's damn good of you.' Arthur placed the coins in his purse and rose to leave. 'I'm sure I am imposing on your valuable time.'
The agent opened his hands out and shrugged modestly. 'A pleasure, as always, sir. I'll see to that business of your brother's at once.'
As soon as he had quit the agent's offices Arthur made his way back to the shoemaker on Connaught Street and paid the balance on the riding boots. Uncomfortable as they were, he looked at them fondly. After all, it was thanks to these boots that he had at last been able to make some ground in his pursuit of Kitty Pakenham.
Chapter 71
The house on Russell Square was easy enough to find. The Pakenham residence was one of the more imposing and elegant houses that faced on to the square. Arthur glanced over himself to make sure that his appearance was as neat as possible. He had chosen to wear his best uniform and one of the officers' servants at the castle had spent most of the morning polishing his boots into a glassy shine. The door opened almost as soon as Arthur knocked and a sombrely dressed footman stood aside to let him in.
'Good God! That was quick.'
'You are expected, sir. Miss Pakenham had me wait by the door.Your coat, sir?'
Once the footman had carefully hung Arthur's greatcoat he led him through to the drawing room. Kitty was sitting in a comfortable armchair close to the window, pretending to read. She glanced up as her guest entered the room, and smiled warmly.
'Hello, Arthur. Or are you still my husband, the Honourable Miles Simpson?'
'I don't know. That's for you to decide.'
Kitty cocked her head on one side and appraised the young officer standing in front of her. 'I think I like you best as you are. So shall we be Kitty and Arthur, for now?'
'I should like that, very much.'
'Good. Come and have a seat, Arthur.' She waved her hand to a matching armchair on the other side of the window, and turned towards the footman. 'We'll have tea and cakes, Malley.'
'Very good, ma'am.'The footman bowed his head and ducked gracefully out of the room. As soon as he was gone Kitty looked at Arthur and lowered her voice. 'He'll go straight to my brother Tom to let him know that you have arrived. I'm afraid my brother is trying rather too hard to be old-fashioned and respectable and will insist on acting as my chaperone while you are in the house.'
'There's no one else coming to tea?'
Kitty grinned mischievously. 'Now why would I possibly want to share you with anyone else?'
Arthur had no idea how to respond to such a question and simply smiled back, until he remembered something. 'Just a moment.'
Reaching inside his jacket pocket he drew out his purse. He quickly counted out some coins and handed them over to Kitty. 'For the lunch.'
'Thank you.' She palmed them quickly and tucked them into a small sewing box beside the chair before glancing towards the door.'I should warn you,Arthur, that my brother is inclined to see any male that I seem to favour as a potential husband.'
Arthur was shocked. 'He's not trying to offload you, is he?'
'On the contrary. He seems to think that I am too good a catch for any would-be suitors.You see, he's hoping to inherit an earldom soon, and dreads being associated with some tainted stock I might marry. Not that you're tainted stock, Arthur. I know you're from a good family. I just wanted to give you fair warning, in case Tom seems a little odd when you meet him.'
'Odd?'
'Cold, unfriendly. That sort of thing.'
Hardly had she spoken when the door swung open and a plainly dressed man stepped into the room. He looked to be some years older than Arthur, and his features were as plain as his suit. He did not bother to smile as he strode across the room and offered his hand to the officer who had risen from his chair for the formal greeting.
Arthur smiled. 'You must be Tom. I'm Arthur Wesley.'
'I know. Kitty's told me all about you.'
Arthur's heart sunk. Oh God! What has she said?
'Do relax. It's not all bad.' A smile flitted across Tom's features. 'I'm sure you won't mind if I join you for tea?'
He didn't wait for a response and glanced round, looking for another chair.
'Here.' Arthur gestured to the chair he had been seated in. 'Have mine.'
'That?' Tom looked at the chair. 'That is not yours to give. Don't be an ass, Wesley. Sit down. I'll pull up another.'
He chose a dining chair and placed it a short distance from the others before he sat down, looming over them despite his small stature. Arthur could see at once that Kitty had been right about her brother's anxiety over his status.
Tom slapped his hands down on his thighs. 'So, Arthur, tell me a bit about yourself.'
'There's not much to say.The family's from Meath. Not too far from Pakenham Hall. I'm sure you have heard of us.'
Tom pursed his lips and nodded slightly as if he might recall the family name, and Arthur forced himself not to rise to the affected slight. Kitty's brother really did have ideas above his station. He continued. 'I hold a lieutenant's commission. I'm an aide at the castle and member of parliament for the borough of Trim.'
'Trim?'Tom frowned, then his expression suddenly cleared and he smiled. 'I remember! You gave that damn fellow O'Farrell a good thrashing at the polls, didn't you?'
Arthur nodded, relieved at last to have made some kind of favourable impression on Kitty's brother.
'Fine piece of work that, Wesley! You showed those damned radicals a thing or two. Well done. So do you aim to make your name as a politician?' He frowned.'Can't say that I've read a single mention of you in the Dublin papers since the Trim election.'
'It is customary to keep in the background while one learns the ropes. I'm sure that I will be given a more meaningful role in due course.'
'Only if you actively pursue such a role. Like your brothers. Now they are making something of an impression over in England. Why aren't you chasing 'em, in their footsteps, eh?'
'I have other duties.'Arthur gestured at his uniform.'The army makes an equal demand on my time.'
'Tosh! Any fool knows that the peacetime soldiers are just a bunch of idlers.'
'I imagine that the French will soon be putting an end to our… idleness,' Arthur replied icily. 'From what I read in the papers, it's on the cards. The French seem to want to persuade other nations to adopt their revolutionary ideas – at the point of a bayonet.'
'I read the papers too, you know.' Tom shook his head. 'Nothing will come of it. Mark my words. The Frogs will have their fill of these absurd reforms before the year's out. King Louis will have his hand on the tiller again and everything will be back on course.'
'I hope so, Tom. I really do.'
'And without a war you'll have to buy your way up through the ranks.'
'True,' Arthur conceded. He realised that Tom was still trying to estimate his worth. 'But I should be able to afford a captaincy this year or the next.'
'A captain's pay is paltry stuff.' Tom's eyes brightened at the prospect of a cheap pun. 'Chickenfeed! That's what it is!'
Arthur met Kitty's eyes and both joined in her brother's laughter.Tom's merriment quickly faded and he fixed Arthur with a scrutinising stare. 'The pay isn't enough for a married man to live on. I know that much.'
'Tom!' Kitty was scandalised.'Arthur's my friend. I didn't invite him to tea just so that he could be insulted by you. I'm sure a captain's pay is perfectly respectable.'
'It ain't, and that means a fellow's got to borrow money to make it up. That's right, isn't it, Wesley?'
Arthur said nothing, but stared down at his boots.
'When's that bloody tea coming?' Tom muttered.
When he returned to Merrion Street Arthur went up to his room and took out his violin. As ever, the disciplined co-ordination of fingers and mind helped to calm his churning emotions. But as he played, his mind went back over the afternoon tea at Kitty's house. He knew he had made a poor impression on Tom, and could fully understand the latter's point of view. A captain's pay was not enough to provide Kitty with a decent home, and he was not even a captain yet. Worse still, he was in debt. No more so than most army officers, but it was still something of a burden and an embarrassment for a man seeking to impress Tom Pakenham.
Unless there was a war, Arthur's progression through the ranks would be stultifyingly slow. And if there was a war, Tom would hardly be happy for his sister to be courted by a man who stood every chance of being killed by shell, bullet or plague. Even if he wasn't killed, Arthur might be wounded and come back a cripple. He imagined Kitty looking at him in pity or – nightmare of nightmares – as an object of ridicule. He would rather die.
So, if the army was not the best route to fame and fortune, what of politics? In that at least Arthur should be able to make a small impact. With Richard firmly installed in the Treasury in London, and William cutting his political teeth in the House of Commons, with a little nepotism, Arthur would be able to climb the political ladder swiftly enough. Swiftly enough to impress Tom, he hoped. But would Kitty be prepared to wait that long?
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