Arthur shifted uncomfortably in his chair. ‘Speaking for myself, I would prefer my men to be well trained and confident rather than devoted.’

‘Perhaps you would, Sir Arthur. But when you have led men as long as I have, and won great victories, then the devotion of one’s subordinates is as inevitable as it is useful. I am sure you will discover that for yourself in time, when you become more experienced.’

Arthur regarded the admiral coolly. ‘I have already acquired a measure of experience, sir, and won my own victories, and I think I managed to understand my men well enough.’

‘Ah, yes.’ Nelson stared at the younger officer with a faint look of surprise. ‘I am sure you are indeed a most competent officer. Do please excuse me for a moment.’

He rose abruptly and strode from the room, leaving Arthur tight-lipped and tense as he took up the newspaper and made himself read some of the small articles surrounding the hagiography that had fed the admiral’s conceit. He could hear Nelson in conversation with someone out in the corridor, but their voices were low and the sounds of echoing footsteps from passing clerks made it impossible for Arthur to make out any words. A moment later the admiral returned and took his seat opposite Arthur. He was silent for a moment before he leaned forward.

‘I now recall why your name seemed familiar to me a moment ago.’

Arthur looked up and raised his eyebrows enquiringly. ‘Indeed?’

‘Yes. You are the hero of Assaye and the victor of Argaum, are you not?’

‘Hero?’ Arthur smiled.‘I’m not so sure about that, my lord. But I had the privilege of commanding the men who won those victories.’

‘And noble victories they were!’ Nelson leaned forward with an eager expression. ‘I read of them a while back. It was hard to fit such singular achievements to a man of your age. My word, it must have been a daunting affair to take on such odds as you faced at Assaye, Sir Arthur.’ He nodded admiringly. ‘Strikes me that we have something in common. The desire to take the fight directly to the enemy, without delay.’

‘It seemed to be the most provident course, my lord. If one does not strike the enemy where one finds him, then the initiative is immediately lost.’

‘Quite so! But that philosophy is shared by all too few of our military leaders, not to mention our politicians.They seem to hold to the notion that French power can be whittled away and worn down.They do not understand the nature of the foe. Emperor Napoleon is a new kind of leader. He has no comprehension of the balance of power that has maintained order across the continent in the past. He does not see himself as a member of the council of European rulers, as it were. Napoleon recognises no one as his equal. His sole ambition in this world is to win glory and gain control over all others. He will not rest until he can exercise his will without limit. So we must not rest until he is defeated absolutely. That is what our credo must be, Sir Arthur. A sentiment I feel that you might share.’

‘I do, my lord.’

Arthur felt himself warming to the admiral, despite the overbearing self-regard that had spoiled his initial impression of the other man. It was clear that Nelson was well aware of the high stakes in the war against France and the need to see it through whatever sacrifices that entailed.

Arthur continued. ‘The problem is that too few of our countrymen are aware of the danger. With Pitt back in power, that may change.’

Nelson’s excited expression faded. ‘Yes, thank God for Pitt. But have you seen the man lately? He looks old and drawn. I fear the burden of steering our people through this conflict has broken him. I doubt he will survive to see the victory to which he has contributed so much.’

‘You are certain we will win?’

‘How can we not win, when there are men like you and me to command our forces on land and sea?’ Nelson suddenly laughed. ‘If you’ll pardon the poor couplet.’

Arthur smiled and a moment later a clerk entered the room and bowed his head briefly. ‘My lord?’

‘Yes.’ Nelson rapidly reined in his high spirits. ‘What is it?’

‘Lord Castlereagh will see you now.’

‘Thank you.’ Nelson rose from his seat, and Arthur stood up and paused an instant before offering his left hand. The admiral grasped it firmly and smiled. ‘It was damned fine to meet you, Sir Arthur. I’m sure we shall meet again in less pressing times. I’ll be certain to look you up when I return from beating Monsieur Villeneuve.’

‘I will look forward to it, my lord.’

Nelson nodded, still holding Arthur’s hand. ‘God go with you, Wellesley. Britain needs men like you. Now more than ever.’

‘Thank you, sir.’

Nelson gave his hand a final squeeze, then let go and turned to leave the room. When he was gone Arthur sat down again and stared out of the window. The glass had not been cleaned in a while and the smut from the city’s fires had stained and pitted the outside surface so that it made the sky seem dirty and gloomy.Yet inside his heart felt warm with pride that a great man like Nelson should have recognised his ability. Particularly Nelson, who obviously had such a huge sense of his own self-importance that the fact he had recognised another man’s achievements was high praise indeed. Arthur smiled wryly at the thought. At least Admiral Nelson was clear about his duty, and knew what needed to be done.Arthur picked up the newspaper again and turned the pages, scanning the stories. There was little of interest, save one small editorial piece, allegedly speaking up for the shareholders of the East India Company, demanding that Richard Wellesley be called to account for his actions in India.

He cast the newspaper aside in disgust and stared back towards the window while he waited to be summoned to his interview with Lord Castlereagh. At length, some half-hour after Nelson had preceded him, the clerk returned and led him up another flight of stairs to the offices of the senior ministers. Castlereagh was in a large room with two windows overlooking Downing Street. Opposite the windows was a large map of the known world. Notes were pinned to the map in places of interest to the policymakers in London. The Secretary of State for War and the Colonies stared at him briefly, and then gestured to the chair opposite his desk.

‘Welcome back to England, Sir Arthur.’

‘Thank you, my lord.’

‘You are to be congratulated on your achievements in India. Even some of the most bitter of your family’s political opponents grudgingly admit the brilliance of your victories over the native forces opposed to us.’

‘That is good to hear. I am sure that those who have followed events in India understand that the credit for such achievements should be directed as much towards my brother as myself.’

‘Alas, no.’ Castlereagh folded his hands together. ‘I am sure that you are aware that the directors of the East India Company are furious at his appropriation of their funds for the purpose of expanding our interests across the subcontinent.’