‘So the end justifies the means?’ Arthur sniffed. ‘That’s been the excuse of tyrants through the ages. The means and end are indistinguishable and only fools and charlatans pretend that they aren’t.’

‘Sometimes sacrifices have to be made for the greater good.’

‘Oh, come now, Fenshaw! You can’t really believe that. The scum who have risen to the top of the heap in France aren’t killing their own people, and those of other nations, for the sake of an ideal. They are doing it to protect themselves alone, and to extend their tyranny to other nations. A tyrant is a tyrant no matter what noble cause he may profess to serve. Revolution only breeds chaos, and chaos can only be resolved by a cruel and ruthless tyrant. That is not a fate I want for my country and my people, should the French invade.’

Fenshaw smiled slightly. ‘Wesley, you shouldn’t believe everything that you read in Edmund Burke’s vile pamphlets.’

‘And you should not be fooled by the wretched scribblings of Thomas Paine,’ Arthur snapped back.

There was a dangerous tension hanging over the picnic blanket and Kitty grabbed a small pot from the basket and thrust it between the two men. ‘Goose liver terrine? You really should try it. Our cook makes it. Quite delicious.’

Arthur turned to her with raised eyebrows, then took a deep breath and held out his plate. ‘That would be nice, Kitty. Thank you.’

Fenshaw continued to nibble at his chicken leg as he shifted to take in the view of Dublin, for once free of the usual brown haze of smoke, sprawling either side of the Liffey.

‘It’s such a lovely day, isn’t it?’ Kitty gushed. ‘Far too nice to waste on talking about those wretched Frenchmen. Please let’s not mention them again today. Let’s not give them the satisfaction of ruining our picnic. Come now, Arthur and Charles, eat up.’

There was no attempt to continue the disagreement for the rest of the afternoon and the two men were scrupulously polite to each other as they made small talk, but the friendly ambience had gone and despite Kitty’s best efforts to revive it the atmosphere remained strained. Late in the afternoon, as the sun’s angled rays burnished the slope of the hill and the fields below in red and yellow hues, they packed up the picnic basket and loaded it on to the carriage. Fenshaw strode away to help the groom lead the horses back into their traces. Kitty waited until he was out of earshot before she turned on Arthur.

‘What did you do that for?’ she whispered fiercely.

‘To what do you refer?’

‘Don’t treat me like a fool, Arthur. You know precisely what I’m talking about. Why did you provoke him?’

‘I did no such thing. If anything, he provoked me, Kitty. All that nonsense about the revolutionaries and their principles. The man is a damned fool if he really believes any of that.’

‘He was just being sensitive. I thought he spoke quite well about the unjust way their common people were treated.’

‘What does he know about common people?’

‘Arthur, what do any of us know about them?’

Arthur opened his mouth to reply, but could say nothing. Kitty was right. There was as wide a gulf of incomprehension between the classes as there was between nations. He felt shamed by that knowledge. He was a lieutenant colonel of foot, and yet he knew little of those he led. Something must be done about that, if he was to be trusted with the command of hundreds of his countrymen. He must not only command them, but command their respect and their willingness to serve him to the best of their ability. In the recent campaign Arthur had seen the terrible consequences when officers distanced themselves from their soldiers and took no interest in their well-being.

Kitty nudged him. ‘Charles is coming back. Don’t say another word on the subject.’

Fenshaw flashed a warm smile at Kitty as he joined them, and kept the expression fixed in place as he nodded to Arthur. ‘All ready? Then let’s be off.’

He graciously handed Kitty up into the carriage and stood aside to allow Arthur to go next, but Arthur stood his ground.

‘You first, Fenshaw.’

‘After you, sir. I insist.’

Arthur was about to protest when Kitty began to drum her fingers on the side of the carriage. ‘If you boys have quite finished . . . Arthur, get in.’

He hesitated a moment, then did as she had asked and took the seat next to her. Fenshaw climbed up and sat opposite, his stout knees pressing between Arthur’s boots and the folds of Kitty’s skirt. The groom clambered up on to the driver’s bench, took up the reins, and gave them a deft flick as he clicked his tongue. The carriage lurched into motion and rumbled back down the track towards Dublin.

For a while no one spoke, not even Kitty, and they gazed unseeingly across the passing countryside, until at length Fenshaw cleared his throat.

‘Colonel, I must apologise if I offended you in some way. It would distress me to think that a good friend of Kitty’s was discomfited by something I had said.’

Arthur flapped a hand. ‘Think nothing of it. I was in an intemperate mood. I shouldn’t have reacted as I did. It was just that your remarks surprised me, coming as they did from a king’s officer. I imagine that you were playing devil’s advocate for the sake of debate.’

Fenshaw stiffened. ‘Indeed, sir, I was not. I stand by my opinions.’>

‘And how do your opinions stand beside your duty to your king and country? Surely sympathy for the enemy must lead to some conflict of interest, given that you may be forced to kill them?’

Kitty slapped her hand down on her thigh. ‘Arthur! You go too far.’

Fenshaw raised a hand to calm her. ‘It’s a fair question, Kitty. Let me answer.’

‘Oh, very well, then!’ She turned away from them and rested her chin on her knuckles, staring fixedly into the middle distance.

Fenshaw looked at Arthur. ‘It is true that my politics are on the radical side. Even for a Whig. But I am first and foremost an Englishman and I know that my first duty is to my country. If France tries to invade England then she will tangle with the Royal Navy first, and I swear to you that I will fight to the last drop of my blood to prevent French soldiers from setting foot on our shores. That is how things stand with me, Wesley. So do not doubt my loyalty. Do not think me a traitor. May we leave it at that?’

Arthur glanced at Kitty, profoundly wishing that he had bitten his tongue earlier in the afternoon, when it would have made a difference. But it was too late now, and he would not be satisfied until he had tested the other man’s point of view, and hopefully shown Kitty that her new beau was playing fast and loose with his principles.

‘We could, sir, but I confess I am intrigued to discover how one who has such perverse obligations will cope with them should he come into contact with French forces.’

‘Trust me, sir. I have thought this through, and my mind is clear on the matter. I will fight them as tenaciously as the next man. And given that it is the Navy who forms our country’s first line of defence, it is likely that I shall be called upon to prove myself far sooner than you are.’

It was a point well made and Arthur saw no further profit in continuing the debate, not least because he sensed Kitty’s growing fury and had the good sense not to strive for a Pyrrhic victory over his rival.

It was dark when the carriage dropped him at his lodgings in Fostertown and he politely bade the others good night before mounting the steps to the front door. As he entered the hall Arthur discovered a letter waiting for him in the mail rack, and at once recognised the hand of his brother Richard. He broke the seal and began to read. Richard was as terse as ever, and informed Arthur that he had managed to persuade Lord Camden to appoint him to a useful position within the government of Ireland.To be sure it was not as significant a post as Arthur might hope for, but it would provide a sound basis for further advancement.