Raging Rajahs (Man of Conflict Series, Book 2)

by Andrew Wareham

  “He saw battle in the Sugar Islands, sir, did well and was promoted young for lack of any other officers. Like myself, sir. He will become an extremely fine officer, sir, but has been pushed too high for his experience as yet.”

  “And so you are obliged to protect him from my wrath, sir!”

  “He is a brave and able young man, sir. When next we go into battle he will demonstrate his worth, I doubt not. He was placed in a situation where he had to make a difficult decision bereft of guidance. He will be ready next time, I doubt not.”

  The General accepted that Septimus must look after his second, picked up a letter from his desk.

  “What of this Mister MacDonald, Major Pearce?”

  “Less than a gentleman by birth, sir, and far less by attainment. He is a man who measures merit by the size of its bank account, I believe.”

  “Comprehensive, Major Pearce!”

  The lieutenant snorted with laughter as he wrote their words; the officer must meet with those who were not gentlemen, but he did not have to like or respect them.

  “I presume that you will tell me you support the actions and behaviour of all of your officers, Major Pearce?”

  “Most certainly, sir.”

  “None could be held responsible for a breach of orders, or for ignoring your known wishes? This Lieutenant Edwards who is named by Mr MacDonald, for example?”

  “His father is a mine-owner, sir, and not so far from Belper. He is a known figure locally and I believe there may be some animosity which MacDonald has seized upon.”

  No scapegoat, in other words; Edwards was not to be hung out to dry.

  “I must be seen to do something, sir. The politicos have been stirred into action – it seems that the mine-owners between them contribute several thousands to Party funds. Therefore a head must roll; they must have blood, or a reasonable facsimile thereof. It must in the circumstances be yours, if you will not permit blame to rest with your juniors. Rather fortunately, both of the majors of the Hampshires have taken fever and died and the request for one at least of the rank to be sent as a matter of urgency has reached us by the overland messenger.”

  “They are in India, are they not, sir?”

  “In Bombay, at the moment. They have completed a little more than a year, have just less than six to do. Was you to transfer, Major Pearce, then you would be out of sight of the politicians and still in full-pay service and well advanced in experience and in a very good position to purchase your next step in a desirable battalion on your return. The Hampshires are a good regiment, too. There will be work in plenty in India in the next few years, sir and you will no doubt add to the laurels you have already won. The truth of the business in Derbyshire will be known to all at Horse Guards, I would add, and the politicians could pretend that action has been taken. The House of Commons will be satisfied as will the Derbyshire newssheets.”

  “I am married less than a year, sir, without child yet. My wife would accompany me, of course.”

  “Most definitely, sir!”

  “Then it remains only to accept your most generous offer, sir.”

  “Good! I am very glad that you can, Major Pearce. You will be ready to sail at very short notice, I trust, sir?”

  “Certainly, sir.”

  The General turned to his two aides and sent them out of the room on obviously spurious errands, turned back to Septimus as the door closed.

  “Off the record, Major Pearce, and never to be repeated in public, what can you actually tell me of this Lieutenant Edwards?”

  “He will be a very good soldier one day, sir, will be a working general officer who will lead his brigade and later his division very successfully. He is also a naturally cruel man, I believe, and certainly one who is a stranger to the concept of the milk of human kindness. His father is a mine-owner, and long a rich man, I am told, and he has grown up with the idea that the poor are less than wholly human. He is intelligent and well educated, a far more learned man than I, but I believe him to have never been taught ‘right’ or ‘wrong’, and as for ‘good’ and ‘bad’ – those words are meaningless to him. The men in his company have an affection for him – you know, sir, just how much they respect a hard man and will respond to a good soldier. I think, sir, that the best I can say is that I will always be happy to command him, but I would detest the prospect that he might command me!”

  “Should he be encouraged to buy the captaincy in the New Foresters?”

  “I do not like him, sir, and that colours my judgement of him. Even so, I would welcome him as one of my captains, because he would produce a company that would fight with the best – and then, I suspect, sir, murder and rape and loot with the very worst!”

  “The French are considering invasion, yet again, Major Pearce. We need fighting men more than we require saints.”

  “Then he will meet your purpose, sir. That I do not doubt. He has yet to meet the French, but will kill his share when he does. He may enjoy the process too much for my taste, sir, but he will be very good at it.”

  On balance, he had come out of the business rather well, Septimus decided. He would not have been surprised to have been ordered to send his papers in, though he had not expected court-martial and a formal cashiering. Instructions to go onto half-pay for a couple of years, with loss of seniority, had seemed most likely. Six years in India was almost a reward by comparison. Marianne must also see the benefits, with a little of persuasion.

  “We shall live like kings, my love! A penny in India goes as far as a shilling here, they tell me, and officers with a private income can be princes. As well, India attracts very few of the rich and socialising sort – the lords and baronets transfer out of any regiment posted there. The long, slow passage deters them as well as the distance from London’s pleasures. The effect is that we will be seniors in Mess society and courted generally in the locality. Six years of a score of servants at our beck and call, master and mistress of all we survey. India has much to recommend it, my love!”

  “And the fevers and the heat; the snakes and the insects that bite, Septimus?”

  “Every coin has two sides, I am told. There is an element of luck. Some families flourish; others – do not.”

  “It is a long time to be distant from home.”

  “It is. You can stay in England if you prefer, my dear.”

  “No! That is not a possibility and is not to be considered, my love! Where you go, I follow. I am a soldier’s wife, sir, and that, I think, ends that suggestion!”

  “Good! I would not wish to be separated from you, must have sent in my papers had that been your decision.”

  She smiled mistily, moved to tears by his declaration of love for her.

  Septimus was glad that he had said the words, was even more thankful that he would not have to carry out the rashly made pledge.

  “I will speak to brother George regarding the house, Marianne. He will be able to arrange a let so that the servants can keep their places. There is no concern for the land, that is in good hands and can stay with Perrin. I do not know what is normal practice regarding our private income. I must ask Major Howton – he has served a posting in India.”

  “There is much to be said for India, Septimus! ‘The Shiny’, the private soldiers call it, though why I know not. Living is cheap and the country is rich. I am told that there are campaigns in the offing and that brings the prospect of loot, sir! I was never fortunate that way but I know of one young gentleman who was a lieutenant with me and has set up on his own acres on the proceeds of the lucky intaking of a walled town.”

  “What of one’s income, sir? Do I send my private monies out to India, and, if so, how?”

  “Appoint an agent in England, Septimus. Your brother is the obvious man for you, I might imagine. In India you will arrange with John Company to draw against them if you have need – which you probably will not. At the end of the year they will send a statement of account to England and, if you are in debt to them, then your agent will be i
nformed and will cover the sums involved. It is just as likely that they will transmit funds to your agent, your income in India greater than your expenses there.”

  George was upset that Septimus must go away again so soon, but accepted that orders were orders. He would do his part, he said, acting as his dear brother's agent so very willingly. Lucasta promised as well to keep an eye to his house - she would enjoy the occasional excuse to pay the tenants, whoever they might be, a visit. Septimus must take her round one morning to acquaint her with its particular treasures. The look in her eye suggested to Septimus that he might show her any number of things; his brother would be well advised to minister more to his wife's comfort.

  He smiled in response, received a very enthusiastic return.

  Marianne's parents were dismayed that she was to go away, especially before she had produced a grandchild for them, but accepted that it was a part of Army life - they had known it must happen one day.

  "One is given to understand that there was some slight furore over your actions in Derbyshire, major? The mob must be put down, so I say, sir - but no sooner does one do so than the damned politicians weep and wring their hands. A plague on the whole breed of them!"

  "There was indeed a degree of upset, sir. Fortunately, the battalion's performance in Lancashire immediately beforehand outweighed it. A bad business, sir, and one I am well out of with so little a degree of disapprobation. Six years, sir, and we may expect to be on the high seas again - and I will be in the way of purchasing as lieutenant-colonel on my return."

  "In a battalion posted to England, one trusts, Major Pearce!"

  "I much hope so, sir - very much!"

  Word came of a passage to be taken on Shoreham Indiaman, to be joined by tender off Weymouth in three weeks. Marianne began the final urgency of packing shipboard needs and deciding what must go into trunks in the hold, what must be to hand for the six months of the voyage.

  “The order states that we are to have one first-class double cabin and two servants’ berths, one male, one female, my dear. Cooper, of course, goes with me. Who is to be your maid?”

  Marianne had no personal maid, had insisted that the upstairs girl, Tabitha, could meet her needs without being dedicated to her specific service. Now she must, she realised, set on her own servant, her personal confidante, probably for life.

  “I cannot ask Tabby to come to India. She has a follower, will probably marry within the year. I fear we must set a girl on, Septimus.”

  “I will ask George if he has a girl in his household who could be given the job – better to take a family servant if at all possible.”

  George, naturally, asked Lucasta her opinion in the matter and she immediately recommended their own upstairs girl, Polly, going on for thirty and very capable of stepping up in the servants’ world.

  “While you are here, Septimus, could you do me a favour tomorrow or the next day? Lucasta’s mama, Lady Everholt, has chosen to retire to the Bath. She has taken rooms there and will enjoy the waters and genteel company in her declining years. She is to renounce the Dower House, and Mr Rosenberg has agreed to buy it at a very good price – he is a well-meaning man, even if a fraction underbred.”

  “He is a vulgar little upstart, George!” Lucasta interpolated.

  “Well, a London merchant of dubious parentage, no doubt.”

  “I would be amazed to discover that he knew his parents, his father at least!”

  Septimus laughed, asked what he could do.

  “I must go to the warehouses in Southampton tomorrow and on Thursday, Septimus. Would you be so good as to escort Lucasta to Sparsholt to take possession of any small keepsakes she might like to retain? Mr Rosenberg has bought the house and contents but has specified that any personal items must be regarded as the property of Lucasta or her mama.”

  “Good of him, George. What time tomorrow, ma’am?”

  Septimus drove himself in his own gig, the weather fine and warm and the distance less than an hour. Lucasta was happy to sit at his side, very close, turned out smartly he noticed, in a riding dress not dissimilar to that he remembered from years before.

  There was a single manservant in the house who opened the front door for them before retiring to the gardens to weed and tidy.

  She took a quick glance about the ground floor, five cursory minutes.

  “Nothing in the downstairs rooms, Major Pearce, but we should just glance upstairs, if you are willing.”

  He escorted her up to the bedrooms, stayed out in the passage as she entered the room that had been her own before her marriage.

  “There are still some of my clothes in the wardrobes! I would have expected Mama to have cleared them! Oh, look, my old dressing gown with the Bunny embroidered upon it!”

  She appeared at the door, holding the gown to her and asking Septimus’ opinion whether it might still fit.

  “I think it may, ma’am,” he replied.

  She closed the door on him, came out five minutes later, the gown loosely tied and inviting him to agree that it still became her. She moved sufficiently to make it very obvious that she wore nothing underneath.

  “Perhaps we should consider that question in your room rather than out in the passage, Lucasta?”

  She stepped inside and he followed, tweaking the belt undone as he closed the door.

  It seemed to Septimus that his brother had been neglecting his husbandly duties; he did his best to make up for the family shortcomings.

  She showed remarkably enthusiastic; he presumed George knew what he was missing.

  They had to be more than ordinarily cautious, the law holding that adultery with a brother's wife partook of incest and deserved significant criminal penalty; a servant observing them could make a fortune in blackmail. No further opportunity arose between them before Septimus had to take a chaise down to Weymouth, there to overnight in one of the many hotels that had sprung up since the town had gained Royal patronage. The King loved the town, in his saner moments, and had often taken the sun and the salt air there, much to the benefit of his health, he had said.

  Three other passengers were to join the Shoreham with their families, and the tender, a large cutter, was almost full with their baggage and children. Many relatives lined the quayside behind them, waving sadly. The Honourable East India Company gave leave at ten year intervals and the bulk of the dozen children would be young adults when next their grandparents saw them, assuming they survived the fevers and hostile climate and occasionally unfriendly natives.

  Septimus was the sole soldier in the group and the youngest of the men. They assessed his rank and his age and wondered how he had climbed so high so young – he did not give the impression of a sprig of the nobility who had bought his promotions at an early moment.

  The convoy came in sight, rounding Purbeck, and Shoreham closed the shore. The cutter cast off and sailed into the great ship’s lee where an accommodation ladder was lowered while a dozen sailors swung down to load cargo nets with the luggage. A group of Lascars came running down the ladder, picked up a child apiece and ran up again, all in silence, most of them having no English. One mama protested loudly that her daughter was not to be handled by a black man, but she was rapidly hushed by an embarrassed husband. The adults climbed the ladder, with greater or less agility, and the transfer was complete within half an hour, long experience making little of the difficulties.

  A final check that every bag had come aboard, and no small child was hidden in the scuppers, and the cutter cast off and England was left behind for many years, perhaps for all eternity.

  The Purser escorted Septimus aft to his cabin, knowing that he had never sailed in an Indiaman before, a lesser menial taking Cooper and Polly below to their tiny hutches.

  The cabin was big, in shipboard terms, tiny as a living space for six months.

  A large bed, a small table and a dresser, all firmly fixed to the deck, quite immoveable on one side; a pair of easy chairs, again fixed, and a curtained off space for clos
e stool and washing bowls. There was besides that a hanging space for clothing and a set of drawers, and room just to stand and turn round and little else.

  “The great cabin, sir, is where most passengers spend their days and hosts the dining tables. There is a pair of roundhouses towards the stern, sir, ma’am, containing more elaborate facilities for male and females, including baths. It is generally the case that one’s servants will arrange between them for bathing times, there being a number of passengers wishful to make use of them. First-Class only, sir, that is. Lesser mortals are satisfied with their cabin facilities. Passengers, of the upper cabins that is, have free access to the whole deck, but are begged to avoid entangling the crew in their duties and to exercise caution in times of storm. In the event of action, sir, with an enemy cruiser, then it is desirable that you should not impede the guns’ crews. With the greatest respect, sir and ma’am, I must remind you that aboard ship the word of the Master under God is law, and must be instantly obeyed on the rare occasions that commands may be given.”

  The Purser was inured to the demands of passengers, had spent half-years at a time in the company of Governors-General and their lady wives and of senior Company officials and their sometimes less well-born spouses and even of cavalry officers and the nearly brainless mares they commonly married. He was quite pleased to be thanked by the big young major and smiled at by his little, younger wife; they might well become favourites, he thought.

  “One thing, sir, are there separate nursery facilities for the children, or possibly a schoolroom?”

  “There is a cabin space set out for them, Major Pearce, distinct from the lounge area of the Great Cabin. Long experience over a century and more of voyaging the seas to India has discovered that need.”

  They laughed and joined the Purser on the companionway leading to the Great Cabin.

  “What is the habit with regard to vails, sir?”

  “Not to be given, Major Pearce, but a gratuity may be placed in my hands at the end of the voyage and will be distributed wholly between the stewards who serve these cabins.”