Arthur stared back at him, frowning. There had been a time when William had been principled, priggish even, but now Arthur saw that his brother had succumbed to the base values of those who had made Parliament their home. He felt tired, and unwilling to continue the discussion. If William wanted to play politics Arthur would not dissuade him. But he would not let himself surrender to the same temptation. Even so, however distasteful it might be, Arthur realised that he would have to bend a little in order to serve Britain’s interests. He leaned towards the fire and shovelled some more coals on to the fire.

‘Very well then, William. I will speak to Lord Buckingham.’

William smiled in warm satisfaction. ‘I knew you would see sense. I will broach the matter with him as soon as possible.’

Arthur nodded, and then fixed his brother with a firm look. ‘Mind you, I will not commit myself to his cause.You understand?’

‘I understand. Trust me, you need only talk to the man.’

As the chilly winter days passed and Arthur made his rounds of the social events of the capital he felt as if he was surrounded by enemies, seen and unseen. So it was that when an invitation came from Lord Buckingham to meet him at his grand house at Stowe early in November, Arthur gratefully accepted the chance to escape London for a few days. It would be good to breathe fresh air. Buckingham was known for his love of the hunt and Arthur, who shared the passion, looked forward to the chance to ride again. William let Arthur use his carriage for the journey and, on the morning Arthur left, his brother gently took his arm as he settled into his seat.

‘Remember, this man could be vital to our fortunes. Be careful what you say to him.’

Arthur smiled. ‘Trust me.’

William did not reply immediately, and a moment later the driver flicked his reins. The carriage lurched into motion and William hurriedly withdrew his hand. Arthur settled back and pulled the travelling rug over his body in an effort to keep warm. As soon as the drab grey facades of the city gave way to open country he felt his spirits rise. Despite his fond memories of the kinder months of the Indian climate, Arthur felt a deep contentment in his heart as he gazed out at the English countryside. Even in winter there was a wholesome beauty to the gentle lines of the landscape, broken as they were by small woods of ancient trees whose bare limbs were stark against the sharp air of a clear sky.The route took the carriage past small villages of timbered and brick buildings from whose chimneys thin trails of smoke curled into the blue heavens. After so many years away from Britain, Arthur regarded it all with a keen interest, and a growing sense of passion that this land must never endure the tyranny of Bonaparte.

The latest news from the continent was grim.The first rumours had reached London that an Austrian army had been forced to surrender at Ulm. Despite this reverse, Arthur reflected that the combined weight of the remaining Austrians and the armies of the coalition powers would surely overwhelm France. He pushed the thought aside as he stared out across the gaunt countryside. There was a special history here, one that made its people unique. A tradition that was worthy of preservation and one that he would give the last drop of his blood to defend.

As dusk drew in, the carriage reached Stowe and turned through the entrance to a large sprawl of parkland. A long tree-lined avenue stretched away from the muddy turnpike towards the pitched roofs and towers of a stately home the other side of a small rise in the ground, enough to keep Lord Buckingham’s country seat out of the sight of those travelling along the road that ran past his estate. As the carriage crested the rise,Arthur could see the full extent of the grand house with its lofty classical columns and tall windows. Light spilled out into the gloom and illuminated the neatly trimmed hedges that bordered the formal gardens lying to the side of the main house. The carriage drew up outside the main entrance and a footman trotted smartly down the steps to open the carriage door.

As he stepped down Arthur heard the unmistakable sounds of a large party: a loud hubbub pierced by the higher voices of women. He turned to the footman.

‘Lord Buckingham is entertaining, it would seem.’

‘Yes, sir.’

Arthur frowned. He had brought with him a minimum of formal wear in addition to his hunting attire.There had been no hint of a party in Buckingham’s invitation. ‘I am Sir Arthur Wellesley. I believe Lord Buckingham is expecting me.’

‘Indeed, sir.Your rooms are prepared. May I take your bags and show you the way, sir?’

Arthur nodded, and a moment later followed the footman up the steps into the warm glow of a well-lit entrance hall. Lord Buckingham’s wealth was conspicuously evident in every detail. Large paintings of family members adorned the walls, and gold leaf picked out the details of ornate mouldings in the ceiling high overhead. Opposite the entrance a marble staircase climbed up to a gallery that ran round the hall. On either side classical statuary filled niches painted a pale blue to enhance the lines of their contents. The footman led the way up the stairs and down a corridor into one of the wings, where he paused to open a door for Arthur before following him in with the bags. It was a comfortable chamber with a small dressing room and Arthur gestured to the chest at the end of the bed.

‘Place the bags there, please. I’ll need to change into something suitable before joining the party. How many guests is his lordship entertaining tonight?’

The footman paused to think before he replied. ‘All told, more than a hundred, sir.’

‘Any notables?’

‘Indeed yes, sir. We have the Prime Minister himself here.’

‘Pitt?’ Arthur could not contain a look of surprise.‘Who else, besides the Prime Minister?’

‘Lord Monterey, Lord Paget, Earl Portman, Sir Edward Walsey, to name just a few of them, sir. Quite a gathering.’

‘Yes, it is,’ Arthur said thoughtfully. ‘Thank you.You may go.’

The footman bowed his head. ‘I’ll tell his lordship that you have arrived, then?’

‘Yes, of course.’

As soon as the door had closed behind the man Arthur sat down on the bed with a sigh of frustration. He had assumed that he had been invited for a discreet meeting with Lord Buckingham, a mutual sounding out of opinions and positions. So it was with a heavy heart that he dressed in his best clothes: a plain dark coat, white breeches, silk stockings and buckled shoes. He knew full well that his attire would be rather drab in the whirl of fine lace and satin that would be adorning the great ballroom of his host. He left his room and made his way back downstairs, pausing to take a deep breath before he joined the party.Two footmen stood at the open doors and beyond them Arthur could see the guests, standing in clusters round the edge of the room talking and taking refreshment as a dozen members of a string orchestra took their places at the far end of the salon. Arthur knew Lord Buckingham by sight from his visits to Parliament and made his way across to his host, who was talking animatedly to a slight figure with grey hair standing with his back to Arthur.