The Ravishing of Lady Mary Ware (32 page)

He smiled. ‘I'll admit now that it was so. I had done you a great wrong; and it was the only way I could think of to accede to your wish that you should never set eyes on me again.'

‘You are a very gallant gentleman, Roger. I did not
deserve such consideration, for I realise now that I brought what happened upon myself.'

‘It would not have happened had it not been for your cousin, George Gunston. Out of hatred for me, he led me to believe that you had already had several lovers, and himself among them one afternoon in a punt up the Thames. Believing that, and attracted to you as I was, I'd have been a poor sort of man had I not sought to have you pleasure me too.'

Her smooth forehead creased into a frown. ‘So that is what led you to it. You were, then, right about George. What a blackguard he must be. I will admit, though, that there was a basis for his story of the punt. He is a handsome, dashing fellow and I was attracted to him; so, one afternoon, I did allow him some liberties and repulsed him only when he attempted to go too far. I fear I have been given an over-passionate nature.'

‘Nay, Mary, I'd not subscribe to that. There is a big difference between passion and lust, and you are no victim of the latter. A natural warmth in a woman is a gift of the gods, enabling her to make happy the men she cares for, and in doing so derive much happiness herself. Do you know what has happened to Gunston?'

‘As far as I am aware, he is still in Portugal.'

‘In that case, as the war there shows no sign of ending, it may be several years before I run across him again. When I do, he'll find himself faced with a heavy bill to pay for what he did to us.'

‘No, Roger, please. No good could come of your calling him out, and you might be injured yourself did fortune not favour you. Let bygones be bygones. Instead, let us rejoice that, owing to this chance meeting, we are again friends.'

While they were talking, they had begun their tea. Roger buttered a crumpet for her, put it on her plate and
said, ‘Tell me now about your husband. What manner of man is he?'

She shrugged. ‘He's well enough. 'Tis an irony that you should have declined to marry me because you considered yourself too old, for he is a year or two older than yourself and, both in mind and body, gives the impression of being still older. But he is kind, considerate and has ample money. He is a Mr. Jeremiah Wicklow, a merchant in the City and trades mainly with cities in the Baltic.'

Roger raised an eyebrow. ‘So you married into trade? That distresses me for you, as I fear it unlikely that many of your acquaintances will have proved willing to receive your husband.'

She sighed. ‘In that, alas, you are right. One could not expect them to. 'Tis a sad come-down for the daughter of an Earl, but beggars cannot be choosers. Since I left Mrs. Hoitot's Academy, friends I made there, like Deborah, have been most kind to me. But one could not expect them to continue having me to stay indefinitely. The only alternative to marriage was to become the companion of some old woman, and be at her beck and call day and night. I preferred to stomach a man, providing he was of a pleasant and upright character, even if I had no love for him. And, that being so, it behoved me to keep an eye out for one while I still had my youth as an attraction. I was seated next to Mr. Wicklow at a dinner in the City, given for charity. I have never concealed my circumstances and when he questioned me about myself, I told him of them freely. He had recently been widowed and, no doubt, the thought of having a woman of title for his second wife appealed to him. Before the evening was out, he proposed to me. I said I'd take a week to think on it, then joined him one afternoon for a dish of tea at his house in Trinity Square, hard by the Tower of London. Finding it commodious and furnished with good, solid
pieces that indicated him to be a man of some fortune, I accepted him.'

‘If I may, I'd like to call upon you there,' Roger said after a moment.

Smiling, she shook her head. ‘No, Roger; I'd liefer you did not. I know where that would end. We would again go to bed together. And City merchants are very different from the people of our class. There are few complaisant husbands among them, or others who, feeling themselves outraged if their wives take lovers, cover their own mortification by fighting a duel on some pretext such as a quarrel over cards. Did Mr. Wicklow discover that I was unfaithful to him he would put me out into the gutter. Besides, I feel I owe it to him to be an honest wife.'

For a moment Roger had contemplated resuming his affaire with her; but he was quick to see the soundness of her objection and felt respect for her principles. Realising that it would be a wicked thing to jeopardise the security she had achieved, he refrained from endeavouring to persuade her to alter her mind, and changed the conversation by asking:

‘Whither were you bound when that young fool wrecked your carriage?'

‘To spend the night with cousins of Mr. Wicklow at Surbiton; and, if it be possible, I should soon now be on my way again.'

Roger stood up. ‘I am loath to let you go. But by this time my people should have repaired the wheel. I'll go and find out.'

A few minutes later he returned to say that her carriage was at the door, her coachman had been given a meal, her horse watered and fed and was now being put between the shafts. Before leaving the room, he kissed her lightly on the cheek and wished her good fortune. Leading her out with the propriety he would have observed
had they been strangers, he handed her into the carriage and watched her being driven away.

Two days later Roger received a letter from the Marquess Wellesley, saying that he wished to see him; so he rode up to London and called at the Foreign Office. In view of the Marquess' haughty nature and retiring manner, he received Roger with unusual affability. After waving him to a seat, he said:

‘Mr. Brook, having been a member of Bonaparte's personal entourage for so long, I take it you are well acquainted with Marshal Bernadotte, who a little above a year ago became Prince Royal of Sweden?'

‘I have, of course, met him casually many times at receptions and so forth, my lord,' Roger replied. ‘But I could not say I know him well.'

‘But you do know him?' the Marquess insisted. ‘I mean, should you meet him again, he would at once recognise you as one of Bonaparte's people?'

‘Oh certainly, my lord; and I have known his wife since she was a young girl. She was daughter to a wealthy silk merchant of Marseilles, and is an old friend of mine.'

‘Good! Good! Now tell me, how well are you informed of affairs in Sweden?'

‘I know little about them, as for a long time past I have not been the confidant of anyone having access to secret intelligence.'

‘In that case I must bring you up-to-date. On the Marshal's becoming, for all practical purposes, the ruler of Sweden, Bonaparte demanded that he should close all Swedish ports to British shipping, threatening, should he refuse, to invade Sweden. Bernadotte was most averse to doing so, because wars have reduced Sweden to a very poor country, and her only hope of recovery lies in a continuation of her commerce. But he has some reputation for duplicity, and in this matter resorted to it. He told Bonaparte that he would comply with his wishes, then
secretly informed our merchant captains that while he could not any longer countenance their bringing cargoes to Sweden, he was anxious to receive British goods conveyed in American bottoms.'

Roger smiled. ‘There has never been any love lost between Bernadotte and Bonaparte. I felt certain that he would not allow the Emperor to make a puppet of him.'

‘He is far from becoming that, as is clearly demonstrated by a more recent matter. In June last Bonaparte demanded that Sweden should join him in his war against Britain. Again the Prince Royal complied and, as you may know, Sweden and Britain have since been officially at war. But before giving our Chargé d'Affaires, Mr. Augustus Foster, his
congé
, Bernadotte informed him that we should pay no regard to the declaration, as he did not intend to take any hostile action against us.'

The Marquess took snuff, then went on, ‘Now let us consider the situation in Russia. The friendship entered on at Tilsit between His Imperial Majesty the Czar and Bonaparte, is long since over. It cooled at Erfurt and is now moribund. You are doubtless aware that under the great Catherine, the Russian nobility adopted French culture, but ever since the reign of our Queen Elizabeth they have had commercial relations with us. During the past two centuries, our trade with Russia has increased a thousand-fold. They have no industry and have become almost entirely dependent on us for manufactured goods of every description. Thus, did they cease to receive them, it would cause almost unbearable hardship among all classes of their people. Bonaparte has brought all possible pressure on his ally to subscribe to his Continental System; but the welfare of his subjects being uppermost in the Czar's mind, he has constantly refused to do so. This has angered the Corsican to such a degree that, I am now informed, he contemplates invading Russia.'

Roger smiled again. That is indeed good news, my
lord. The Russians are most redoubtable fighters. Their armies alone, among the Continental nations, have successfully stood up to Napoleon. At Eylau they brought his advance to a halt, and although he defeated them at Friedland, they made him pay most dearly for his victory. 'Tis a mighty long march from the Niemen to Moscow, and only by taking that city can he hope to crush them. Such a campaign could, at long last, prove his ruin.'

‘That, Mr. Brook, is also my view, and we must spare no effort to bring it about. I therefore have it in mind to follow in the footsteps of our great master, Billy Pitt, and endeavour to form a new Coalition. Sweden could play a most valuable part if she could be persuaded to become Russia's ally and ours. Do you not agree?'

‘I do, my lord. But 'twould be no easy matter to bring that about. Sweden is still smarting from defeat in her recent war, as a result of which she was compelled to cede the Grand Duchy of Finland to the Czar; so I do not see the Swedes taking kindly to the thought of entering into an alliance with him.'

‘True; but he will require all the aid he can secure if he is to defeat Bonaparte. So, for Sweden's help he might be willing to return Finland or, at least, make the Swedes valuable concessions. As I am dubious about the wisdom of approaching the Czar direct, I propose to send an envoy to the Swedes with the object of persuading them to become the link between ourselves and Russia. And I very much hope, Mr. Brook, that you will agree to become that envoy.'

For some while, Roger had been expecting this, so he replied at once, ‘I must beg your Lordship to excuse me. I have spent half my life on the Continent, and am resolved not to return there on further missions.'

The Marquess looked down his high-bridged nose for a moment, then raised his eyes and held Roger's intently.
‘Mr. Brook, you said that to me before you left for Portugal. My brother, Wellington, informed me later that you said much the same to him; yet you changed your mind and, on two occasions, rendered him most important services. I pray you change your mind again.'

Roger put up a protesting hand. ‘My lord, the circumstances were different. On the first occasion a private matter made it necessary for me to leave Lisbon overnight. And on the second, it near as could be cost me my life. I am determined not to risk it again.'

‘In this case you would not have to. You would present yourself to the Prince Royal as an old comrade-in-arms who, like himself, has decided to leave Bonaparte's service and only later, at a propitious moment, reveal yourself to be an emissary of Britain.'

‘To harbour under my French identity for long might not prove possible. I have been in Stockholm before. Admittedly that was many years ago, in the time of Gustavus III; but there must still be people there who might recognise me, and I went there as an Englishman.'

‘Come, Mr. Brook. Having lived as two persons for the whole of your adult life, there must have been many previous occasions when such contretemps occurred; yet those quick wits of yours enabled you to bluff your way out of them. It must be that, having been home for eight months or so, you have developed new interests here and are set against giving them up. Or, perhaps, you are contemplating matrimony?'

‘No,' Roger admitted. ‘Neither is the case.'

‘All the more reason then that you should go on this mission. This invasion of Russia that Bonaparte is preparing to launch may well be his last throw. Having watched his rise, and seen him turn Europe into a bloodbath, surely you would like to be in at the death and take a hand in bringing about his fall?'

‘You have something there, my lord,' Roger smiled,
‘but I'd be fully content to read about his downfall in
The Times
.'

The Marquess sighed. ‘You are plaguey difficult to persuade, Mr. Brook; but I'll not give up. I pray you to consider one fact which cannot be contested. In London—nay, in all Britain—there is not a single man other than yourself who is qualified to carry out this mission by presenting himself at the Swedish Court as a distinguished French officer who is no longer willing to serve Bonaparte. You are unique in that respect. Did I send even the most accomplished diplomat at my disposal, he could hope only for one, or at the most two, interviews with the Prince Royal; whereas you would be made welcome by him and have ample time to inform yourself of the lie of the land and his present attitude toward France, Britain and Russia, before making your proposal.

‘And, think you upon the mighty issue that is at stake. This brigand Corsican has convulsed all Europe, brought death, starvation and misery to a million homes, and is now intent on bringing about yet further wholesale slaughter. 'Tis you who have a better chance than any other man of making this coming war the last for many years to come. God may have put it into your hands to restore peace to an unhappy world.'