Young bloods - Scarrow Simon. Страница 44

'Yes, sir,' Arthur replied politely, even though he was not sure that he did really want to do anything more exciting than devote himself to his violin playing. But, as he stood in front of Colonel Ross, he drank in the fine style of the man and again felt that he would like to exude the same self-confidence by the time he reached a similar age.

As if reading Arthur's mind, the colonel smiled at him and spoke lightly. 'Ever considered a career in the army?'

'The army? No, sir. Not yet, at least.'

'Perhaps you should. Lady Mornington has explained that you are a younger son. I know from personal experience the burden of not having first call on the inheritance. The younger sons of aristocrats have a choice of drinking themselves to death, becoming priests or joining the army, or all three if they are gluttons for punishment, although not in that precise order, of course.' He laughed lightly, and Arthur laughed with him, before Colonel Ross continued,'I can't see you as a drunk or a priest so the army looks like the safest option.Your mother is of the same opinion.'

'Yes. She is good at making decisions for others,' Arthur said evenly.

Anne ignored her son's ironic tone. 'It's worth considering, Arthur. Richard' – she turned to the colonel to explain – 'that is my eldest son, the Earl of Mornington.' She turned back to Arthur. 'He should have some useful connections who can help find a position for you in the army. I'll write to him soon and see what he can do.'

'And if the Earl is unable to assist, then I should be only too happy to help,' the colonel added graciously.

'You are very kind, sir,' Arthur replied. The conversation was slipping out of his control. If he did not attempt to curb the direction it was taking his mother would have him in uniform and posted to some God-awful part of the world before the month was up. 'A career in the army might well be the best thing for me, but one should always consider choices carefully.'

'Indeed,' the colonel acknowledged. 'Spoken like a true soldier! Perhaps the best solution might be to spend some time at a military school. Get the feel for the military way of life, without being committed in any way. How does that sound?'

'Military school?' Anne sounded wary. 'Is that expensive?'

'No more so than any other kind of school.'

'Oh, I see.'

The colonel immediately sensed the delicacy of the situation. 'Of course, most students only attend such schools for a short period of time, no more than a year, I should think, and the fees vary a great deal.There are some bargains to be had in France, for example. If you like, Lady Mornington, I'll talk to some of my army contacts at the other embassies and see if they know of any likely spots for your son.'

Arthur's mother smiled. 'I'd be most grateful. Thank you.'

'Now, my lady, I'm afraid that I must leave you.'

Anne placed a hand on his sleeve. 'Surely you're not ending such a fine evening at this early hour?'

'Indeed I am not, my lady. I have an engagement with some other officers at a club, and I regret to say I am already late to that appointment, thanks to your engaging conversation.'

She smiled. 'I can imagine that your excellent company will be missed, and I have been selfish. Perhaps, on another occasion…'

He nodded.'There is a ball at the Prussian Embassy later in the month. I'll have an invitation sent to your lodgings. Might I enquire where-'

'We have rooms at Monsieur Goubert's house on Rue de Poincon.'

'Rue de Poincon. Very well, I shall make arrangements.' He bowed.'Good night, my lady.And I'm sure I'll see you again soon, Arthur.'

'Yes, sir. I hope so.'

As soon as the colonel was out of earshot Anne turned on her son.While keeping her face devoid of expression, she lowered her voice and spoke in an angry undertone. 'Just what did you think you were doing?'

'Mother?' Arthur shrugged. 'I don't understand.'

'Don't play the fool with me. Other people might think you're a simpleton, but I know you better.What was the meaning of that shameful display up there in the gallery?'

'They were a man short. I could fill his place on the violin so I thought I'd help out.'

'You thought you'd help out…' she mimicked him spitefully. 'I see. So the next time someone's horse goes lame, you'll just pop yourself into its harness and just help out, I suppose?'

'Mother, you're not being fair.'

'No,' she snapped back at him, 'it's you who isn't being fair. I brought you to Brussels to improve your French. God knows, you've learned nothing else for the last few years. And I thought we were supposed to be spending some more time together. First chance you got this evening, and off you went. Abandoning your poor mother in the crowd.'

'You didn't seem that abandoned to me.'

'Don't be insolent.' She stared at him a moment and then continued in a hurt tone, 'I'd just like to have known where you had got to. That's all, Arthur. It would have been the considerate thing to do.'

Following his impromptu performance at the Chambre de Palais, Arthur and his mother were invited to many more social events. He adjusted to the attention he was paid very quickly and soon had a ready tongue for light conversation, and an easy, almost charming manner. Anne was surprised to discover that her son actually impressed other people, to the point where it was clear that a section of Brussels society preferred his company to hers. Even though, she consoled herself, he was hardly good-looking.

Colonel Ross made enquiries about the most reputable military schools in Europe, steering a fine line between quality and affordability. In the end he recommended the institution of an old friend of his family, Marcel de Pignerolle. The Royal Academy of Equitation at Angers, despite the name, was no mere riding school, and offered a wide curriculum covering maths, the humanities and swordplay. The clientele was sufficiently exclusive to impress Lady Mornington and the reasonable fees would be much to her taste as well. A perfect combination for Arthur Wesley. Shortly before Christmas Anne announced that she had enrolled Arthur at the Academy in Angers. He would begin his training there in January. She would be returning to England. Brussels, she announced, was too small and too provincial to sustain her interest a moment longer. Besides, she was missing her family.

Arthur listened to all this with the same sad empty feeling that he had felt at Eton. He was being abandoned again.This time, he resolved, he was not going to grieve in the ill-humoured manner that he had adopted at Eton.Then he had hoped that if he seemed to be suffering enough he would provoke some guilt in his mother and she would give him the affection he deserved, and craved. But now, he concluded, it was quite clear how limited her affection for her third son was. In turn, he owed her nothing. Besides, he was on the cusp of a great change in his life. He could sense it. For the first time in his life Arthur could see a way ahead. No longer was music the only purpose in his life. He would dance to a different tune: the deep rolling drumbeat of the army and the shrill call of trumpets.

In January he would travel to Angers and begin his life as a soldier.

Chapter 31

Angers, 1786

As the carriage passed through the gatehouse, Napoleon shifted himself to the side and looked eagerly out of the window. The iron-shod hoofs of the horses clattered on the cobbles of the courtyard that opened out into a vast space before the main entrance to the academy. A troop of riders was being instructed in the centre of the courtyard. Napoleon regarded them closely. They were, no doubt, the sons of various Prussian, Austrian and British aristocrats, dilettantes in their scarlet coats with yellow buttons and light blue facings. Not real soldiers. Not professionals like himself, trained by the finest military minds in Europe. Even though he had received his commission and completed his probation there would be further training to undertake in the months to come before he could consider himself a fully fledged officer of artillery. And when he was off duty there would be manuals to digest and histories to read, aside from the works on philosophy and literature that he read for pleasure. Against that experience Napoleon was inclined to look upon this fashionable academy as no more than a finishing school, run by the cultivated Marcel de Pignerolle and his wife.