She paused to let the implication of her words sink in. Arthur swallowed and nodded. ‘Please continue.’

‘Galbraith was a handsome young man. And very earnest, much like you in many respects. He fell for Kitty and courted her as only a young man desperately in love can, bombarding her with notes and letters and gifts until he wore Kitty down and she began to form an attachment to him. I could see that he was not suitable for her, but she just said that you would never be coming back for her and she must make do. By and by I think her affections did begin to turn towards him, once she had convinced herself that she could not have you.’

Arthur closed his eyes for a moment and breathed in steadily. Even though he had known that there was every chance that Kitty would meet another lover, somewhere deep in his heart he had hoped, fervently, that she would believe theirs to be as real and enduring a love as two people could ever know. Now he cursed himself for a fool. He should have written to her more often. He should have told her of the depth of his feelings for her, of his dreams for their future together.The sense of loss cut him to the soul and waves of bitter self-reproach coursed through his heart.With great difficulty, he repressed his despair. Opening his eyes, he stared bleakly at Mrs Sparrow.

‘What happened?’

‘Galbraith proposed to her.’

‘Proposed?’ Arthur repeated softly through clenched teeth. ‘When was this?’

‘Nearly three years ago. It came as no surprise to anyone observing the two of them. Just as the consequence came as no surprise.’

‘Why? What do you mean?’

‘Her brother refused to give his permission. One thing you can say for Tom Pakenham, he is consistent. Galbraith, like you, was a junior officer with no fortune of his own. Once again, Kitty’s heart was broken. Honestly, Arthur, you should have seen the poor, dear thing. She has been wasting away ever since.Thin as a stick.’ Mrs Sparrow shook her head sadly before continuing. ‘But all is not lost, as far as you two are concerned.’

‘Oh?’

‘I said that Tom Pakenham was consistent, did I not?’ Mrs Sparrow smiled faintly. ‘I seem to recall Kitty once telling me of a letter you wrote. Not long before you left for India. In it you said that if you came back, having won your spurs and some wealth, your offer of marriage to her would still stand. Is that true?’

‘It is.’

‘Well, now it seems that you are Major-General Sir Arthur Wellesley, returned from India with a handsome fortune. In which case, what reason could Tom Pakenham possibly have for refusing you a second time? If your offer still stands, that is.’

Arthur stared at her, for the first time feeling his pulse quicken with hope, and excitement. ‘Do you really think I would be accepted?’

‘I am sure of it. I know Kitty’s mind well enough. I know that you have but to write to her and tell her of your enduring feeling for her and she is yours.’

Arthur was silent for a moment before he rose to his feet.‘I must go. I am meeting my brother William at the House.’

‘Of course.’ Mrs Sparrow nodded sadly. ‘You must be a very busy man. But do not let that delay you in contacting Kitty. She has waited long enough.’

‘I will find the time to write to her soon.’ Arthur paused. ‘If she will have me, then I am hers. I always was.’

In the week that followed the party at Stowe, Arthur received an invitation to attend the Lord Mayor’s Guildhall banquet. He was still waiting to hear if he had been appointed to the army destined for service in Hanover, and hoped that he might have the chance to further his ambitions at the dinner.

Crowds drew William Pitt’s carriage through the streets to the Guildhall, where they cheered him to the heavens as he descended. He acknowledged their acclaim with a bow and a smile. Then he entered the building, between ranks of applauding merchants, politicians and noblemen who fully realised the part he had played in making the victory at Trafalgar possible.

The banquet was held in a grand chamber, filled with long tables heavily laden with fine silverware, crystal and ornate dinner services. The worthy gentlemen of the capital and their guests were decked in their finery and Arthur, in his dress uniform, found himself seated opposite Lord Castlereagh. The Prime Minister, according to tradition, was seated at the head table next to the Lord Mayor, and Arthur was shocked to see that Pitt appeared to be in even poorer health than a few days earlier. Unnaturally pale, with sunken eyes, he hardly touched his food and spoke few words to those either side of him.

‘You seem preoccupied,Wellesley.’

Arthur glanced away from the Prime Minister and saw that Castlereagh was looking at him as he dabbed a spot of sauce away from the corner of his mouth. Arthur pursed his lips. ‘I was just considering the latest news of the war, my lord.’

‘Ah, yes. Grim tidings indeed.’

The details of Bonaparte’s victory at Ulm had reached London a day earlier. It seemed that nearly half of Austria’s army had been destroyed or taken prisoner. French forces were striking towards the very capital of the Austrian empire and there was little chance that Vienna could be saved before Russia and the other coalition powers could intervene.

Castlereagh cleared his throat and continued. ‘It would appear that the best chance of defeating Bonaparte now seems to hinge on the massing of the coalition forces for one decisive battle.’

‘I agree, my lord. That is why it is vital that a British army is landed on the continent as soon as possible.’

‘Of course.’ Castlereagh nodded. ‘The government understands that well enough, and the task is in hand. Despite the setback at Ulm, the Prime Minister is confident that we have the beating of France. It won’t be long before our soldiers are chasing the Corsican tyrant all the way back to his bolt-hole in Paris.’

‘I hope so, my lord.’

Castlereagh took a sip of wine and looked shrewdly at Arthur. ‘I imagine you are wondering if you will be assigned to the expeditionary force.’

Arthur kept his face expressionless as he stared back, and composed his reply.‘Naturally. It is every officer’s desire to serve his country at any opportunity.’

‘Opportunity?’ Castlereagh chuckled drily. ‘I sometimes wonder at you fellows in uniform and your desire to go to war. It’s almost as if you derive some strange pleasure from proximity to death.’

‘No, my lord. I have already seen enough of war to know that it is an evil. A necessary evil on occasions, but an evil for all that. I shall be glad when Bonaparte is finally defeated. Until then I will not rest, nor avoid any chance to bring about his downfall.’ He paused.‘I believe that I have served my country well enough to merit a position in the army being sent to the continent.’