Chapter 22: The Nature of Valour

High Matcham, Berkshire, November 1808

For mid-November, the weather was exceedingly friendly. The storm front that had nearly sealed the fate of the crippled Malta had finally run its course, and for now, the sun made daily appearances. Tony felt elated after spending the morning with Mister Brown inspecting the lands. Woodbridge Manor was restored to its former splendour and the lands belonging to the property had turned in a decent harvest. Tony had been so delighted that he gave Mister Brown a sizeable bonus payment for his excellent work.

Now he sat in Harriet’s company in their upstairs bedroom, holding her hand and watching the wet nurse who was feeding little Eleanor. She was three days old and from what they could see she was healthy and strong. Briefly overwhelmed with love and pride, he kissed Harriet’s hand.

“I know,” she said happily, returning the pressure. “We are so lucky.”

“I hope your parents will be able to make it,” Tony said offhandedly.

“Oh, they will, never doubt them. Can you imagine my mother missing her first granddaughter’s baptism?”

“No, not really,” Tony conceded. “I hope your father will be able to come, too.”

“You want to speak to him about your plans.”

It was a statement, not a question. The evening before, Tony had told Harriet about his plan to lay down Asia’s command, in fact, to ‘go private’ for a spell. He had expected her to protest, to point out the possible damage to his career or to their social position, but she had surprised him. With a look full of love, she had pulled him close and said, ‘That would be so wonderful!’. Now it remained to be seen how his mentor reacted to those plans.

Hoof beat could be heard outside, and Tony stepped to the window. Down in the court yard, a single dragoon was seen. He dismounted and approached the entrance on stiff legs.

“I believe I am needed downstairs, darling,” Tony told Harriet. “I’ll be back presently.”

The dragoon was carrying a message. Tony signed a receipt and received a tarred envelope bearing Maynard’s seal. Not knowing whether he would have to send back an answer, he sent the man to the kitchen to have a hearty meal. One of the grooms tended the horse and the dragoon retired happily.

Tony tore open the envelope to find a single sheet of paper in the hand of Maynard’s secretary. It was brief and to the point.

Now, that was quick. Maynard was being knighted with almost unseemly haste, but then again, his father had to have influence at court and in the Lords, Tony assumed. There was talk of expanding the Order of the Bath, to give the proper dues to the officers fighting the perennial war, and the plans were to create three classes of knights, from companions of the order to knights grand cross.

No answering letter was required for the Dragoon could not be expected to make the return trip on the same day. Dusk was approaching already. He asked Nadine Blacket to see to it that the man had a place to sleep and then he returned to Harriet’s room. Little Eleanor was in Harriet’s arms whilst Richard and Emily looked on with great interest. Tony could see thin reddish hair on the tiny girl, and he smiled. He definitely liked redheads. Harriet smiled up at him.

“She just finished drinking, and Emily helped to change her nappies.”

Emily nodded proudly. Tony knelt in front of his adopted daughter.

“How is Jenny’s little boy?”

Emily beamed. “He is sooo tiny. Jenny let me hold him, and he did not cry.”

“Do you know his name?”

“Jenny said he’ll be named Frederick, after Eric’s father.”

“Have you seen Frederick, Richard?” Tony asked his son, but the boy looked at him with big eyes and shook his head. Again, Tony felt a pang of his conscience. Tentatively, he tousled the boy’s hair. “You’ll see him, I’m sure. How about you hold Eleanor?”

There! Richard cast a long look at his mother and his baby sister. Tony lifted him up easily and placed him at Harriet’s side. Smilingly, Harriet sat the tiny girl between Richard’s legs. The two-year-old boy put his arms around his baby sister and laughed happily whilst little Eleanor decided to be sleepy. Tony and Harriet watched with silly grins as Richard manly kept his sister from falling over.

“I can stay longer, dear,” Tony told his wife. “Maynard will get his knighthood. He has to report at St. James Palace next Wednesday. They will deviate to Woodbridge on the way to London and probably pay a call.”

“Oh dear,” Harriet sighed. “Well, if this lets me keep you for a few days more, I can stand a social call. Perhaps, we should at least issue an invitation to the baptism?”

“That’s a good idea. I can send a billet to that effect to Woodbridge.”

Indeed, a day later, the visitors began to arrive. First came the Lamberts, and Eleanor Lambert told them time and again how much little Eleanor looked like Harriet when she was little. Sir Richard watched his wife’s emotional surge with an amused smile, but when his turn came to hold the infant girl, he, too, had to blink away some moisture in his eyes.

The next arrival was Moira Palmer, her own infant son accompanying her together with a nurse. Captain Palmer was at sea, but Moira declared laughingly that she would not miss the baptism for the world. She also conveyed the felicitations from her father-in-law, Lord Brougham. With an heir born and his second son in a happy marriage, Lord Brougham was slowly getting over the death of his firstborn.

Then, early in the afternoon, a gaily decorated coach pulled into the courtyard and from it emerged a radiant Anita Heyworth. Accompanying her was a Mister Spencer Penrose, Anita’s first ever acknowledged paramour and an important official at the Foreign Ministry. His father was a leading Tory in the House of Lords and his oldest brother served as British envoy at the Portuguese court in Rio de Janeiro. Anita had indeed moved up in the world. Tony’s jealousy was a little pricked, but soon he picked up on certain mannerisms of Mister Penrose. For instance, there was a certain way he touched his secretary’s arm when addressing him that bespoke an unconventional intimacy. Tony’s discomfort vanished immediately. Anita was playing a role, probably well paid, to serve as a beard to cover up Mister Penrose’s true predilection.

Outwardly, Tony hid what he felt or perceived. He, too, played his role as host as best he could, but Harriet would not be fooled. He caught a wink or two from her, delivered with her trademark knowing smile, and he could not help but grin back at her like a schoolboy.

They were a little stretched for available room with so many visitors, especially since Mister Penrose made it clear that Miss Heyworth’s reputation should not be tainted by her spending the night in the same room with him. Tony very nearly broke out laughing when Penrose alleviated the spacial constraints by volunteering his secretary to sleep on a pallet in his room. Instead, he thanked Penrose sincerely for the consideration. At this point, Anita looked through Tony’s facade, too, and gave him a short, amused shrug.

It was already dark when the Maynards paid their call, promising to attend the baptism on Sunday and staying for dinner. For the first time, Tony and Harriet entertained a dinner party at their country seat. Nadine Blacket had outdone herself, and the party went on merrily for over three hours. At that point, Harriet claimed fatigue, not surprisingly, but her gaggle of female friends would not leave her alone and went up into her boudoir with her.

This left Tony and all the gentlemen visitors to fend for themselves, with the exception of Lady Lambert who laughingly declared that she was too old to join the “girls”. Cigars were passed around and the wine carafes circled the table in a lively manner. To Tony’s surprise, Penrose was a well-versed man in all affairs of the Iberian peninsula, and soon, the discussion centred mostly on the situation there. Now that Wellesley had been exonerated by a court-martial, there was talk of him rejoining the army that had been so ably led by Sir John Moore.

At one point, Tony’s acquaintance with His Excellency Don Alonso Christobal Ruiz de Costa y Torquena, His Most Catholic Majesty’s Governor of Cartagena, was mentioned and duly noted by Mister Penrose as something that might be useful for British interests in the region. Little did Tony know at this time that this chance encounter would have a significant impact on his life and career.

It was close to midnight when Margaret Maynard returned from Harriet’s boudoir and the Maynards left for Woodbridge Manor. This was a signal for the others to retire, too. Nadine roused the servants to clear the dinner hall, and Tony made his way upstairs. The other women had left Harriet, save for Anita who could not look at Tony. He picked up on a certain uneasiness, and he was worried. Harriet spoke up immediately.

“Tony, my dear, I suppose you picked up on Mister Penrose?”

“You mean, Mister Penrose and his secretary?” Tony asked back, shrugging. “That was quite obvious, wasn’t it?”

Anita had a lopsided smile on her lips.

“Yes, it was. It always is. I don’t know why he pays me for this charade. There isn’t a single person in London who believes our pretences.”

“Why are you even putting up with this?” Tony asked cautiously.

“He’s paying me a fortune. I mean, my salary as his paramour helps me keep my house.”

“Why would you need that, Anita? You are London’s first actress,” Tony cut in.

“Oh yes, I was. I am having problems, though. One of the benefactors was after me, called on me on the weekends, called on me at night. When I did not give in, he got his revenge. I cannot find roles. The troupes won’t consider me anymore. It does not help that I have my admirers, my erstwhile admirer is already spreading rumours that I am being difficult. With Penrose’s money, I can found my own troupe. I can even buy an interest in a theatre, and then nobody can keep me off the stage. It is just not very dignified.”

“Anita, say no more! How much will you need?”

“Taking money from you is not much better than taking money from Spencer. At least, I’m doing something for him in return. I much doubt that Harriet would appreciate a similar agreement with you.”

“Still, my offer stands, Anita, and nobody would need to know about it either.”

“Let me consider it, Tony. I know you mean well, but I would hate to make Spencer your enemy. It would be conspicuous if I broke our agreement after spending the weekend with you.”