Arthur’s mood was not helped by the steady flow of bad news from London. The evacuation of the British army from Corunna and the death of General Moore had struck at the very core of the nation’s morale. Then came word of a scandal involving the Duke of York. A former mistress of the Duke, Mary Anne Clarke, had revealed that she had been trading her sexual favours for army commissions and promotions, which she had sold on at a tidy profit.

‘Rubbish!’ Arthur growled as he tossed the newspaper down on the dining table. Night had fallen and he had been reading about the scandal after the dessert had been cleared away.

Kitty looked up from her coffee, licked her lips and asked, ‘What is rubbish, my dear?’

‘The allegations made by the Clarke woman, of course. Damn lies, all of it!’

Kitty had read the newspaper before Arthur had returned from his office at the castle. She took another sip of coffee before responding in a measured tone, ‘It seems to me that her claims have some truth to them, and others corroborate what she says.’

Arthur frowned.‘I accept that she was selling offices on, but I cannot believe that the Duke of York can have been aware of it.’

‘Why not?’

‘Why not?’ Arthur asked in an astonished tone. ‘He is the highest-ranking army officer in the country.A royal.Why would he take the risk of exposing himself to such a scandal? It makes no sense.’

Kitty shrugged. ‘He would not be the first man in high office to fall from grace because of a woman.The Duke should have known better.’

‘But that is my point. She must have been selling the offices behind his back. Otherwise he would have known about it and dropped her at once.’

‘Yes, that would make sense.’

‘He is an honourable man,’ Arthur insisted. ‘I cannot believe he would be involved in such corruption.’

‘Yet you accept that the Clarke woman was his mistress.’ Kitty looked down into her coffee.‘It seems to me that if the Duke is capable of taking a mistress, who is to say that his immorality does not extend further?’

‘Taking a mistress is one thing, Kitty. Taking liberties with one’s office is quite another.’

‘Both are immoral,’ she replied. ‘It is not what good people do.’

Arthur shook his head. ‘Half the men in Parliament have mistresses. It is hardly uncommon. Yet they balance their physical needs with integrity in public office.’

‘Really? And what about you, Arthur?’

He glared at her, lips pressed tightly together. In the bleak months since his return from Portugal he had visited a discreet club called the Game of Hearts on several occasions, and been entertained by Harriette Wilson. She had been good in bed, but he rather feared that his would be another name she bandied about in due course. He hoped that Kitty would not find out, and be hurt, yet at the same time he could not help wanting something more diverting than the stilted sex available at home. He was silent for a moment, and then said, ‘My conscience is clear, and I’ll thank you not to ask me that again.’

Kitty set her cup down with a sharp rap and folded her hands together. ‘I ask it because of the way you are presently treating me, Arthur. I am your wife, yet you hardly ever speak to me. Never take any interest in me or my opinions. Lately, you have barely even acknowledged your children. Under such circumstances can you wonder if I should fear that you are seeking affection elsewhere?’

He pushed back his chair and rose to his feet.‘I will not discuss such accusations, Kitty, do you hear? And you are quite wrong about the Duke of York, as you shall see.’

Without another look at her, he left the room and retired to his private study. Pouring himself a large glass of port, he dropped into his chair and stared at the small pile of official papers and letters he had brought home with him from the castle. Almost all the latter were fresh requests for patronage, some specifically requesting positions that entailed few actual duties so that the incumbent could be assured of an income without the inconvenience of having to work for it. Arthur scowled at the papers for a moment and then took a hefty swig. The country was at war, and while every resource should be dedicated to providing the means to secure victory over France it seemed that many of his countrymen still placed selfishness above service to the nation. The situation was even worse in Parliament, where political factions spent their energies scoring points over each other, regardless of the wider peril that threatened to engulf Britain.

And now this business with the Duke of York. Arthur shook his head.Whatever the Duke might have done, he had a first rate talent for administration and making sure that his country fielded the best trained and equipped army in Europe. If the scandal that embroiled him was not quashed, Britain might very well end up deprived of his services. Simply because Mary Anne Clarke had decided to take her revenge on him for ending their affair. No doubt she was also being rewarded for her accusations by some Whig politician. At present the Whigs were spoiling for peace with France. Peace at almost any price.

It was madness, Arthur reflected. Bonaparte did not strike him as the kind of man who placed a premium on peace.The French Emperor was a soldier through and through and the conquest of nations and the subjugation of people had become his obsession. But then, Arthur wondered, did he himself not share something of that taste for war? He never felt so complete as when he commanded men on campaign. Gone were the duplicities of politics, the pretensions of London society and the endless ennui of domestic compromises that had come to define his life with Kitty.

As soon as the last thought entered his head the bitter taste of shame and betrayal soured his soul and he despised himself. He finished his port and set the glass down sharply on the table. His country needed him in the war against Bonaparte. He must embrace his true calling and return to the army.The longer he stayed in his present post, and partook of the slow poison of politics, the less chance he would have of serving his country in uniform. Now that the Cintra inquiry had cleared him, he must seek a new appointment in the army as swiftly as possible.

The next morning, Arthur strode purposefully to his office. Cancelling his morning appointments, he settled down in front of a sheet of paper and began to draft a letter to Castlereagh.

My lord, it appears to me that the war with France is swiftly approaching the point where the term crisis might be employed. The present scandal afflicting his grace, the Duke of York, and the recent ejection of our army from Spain, have caused public support for the continuation of the conflict to wither. Unless his majesty’s government is resolved to continue direct confrontation of enemy land forces we cannot expect the nation to endure a state of war for much longer.Therefore, we must take it upon ourselves to overcome the French army in the field and prove, again and again, that the French can be beaten. Every victory we gain will sound through the rest of Europe like a rallying cry.