Virtue’s Reward (A Poor Man at the Gate Series, Book 11) Read online

  Book Eleven: A Poor Man

  at the Gate Series

  Digital edition published in 2015 by

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  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this ebook with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this ebook and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. This ebook contains detailed research material, combined with the author's own subjective opinions, which are open to debate. Any offence caused to persons either living or dead is purely unintentional. Factual references may include or present the author's own interpretation, based on research and study.

  Virtue’s Reward

  Copyright © 2015 by Andrew Wareham

  All Rights Reserved

  Contents:

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Introduction

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  By the Same Author

  Introduction

  Virtue’s Reward: Lord Frederick Masters is rescued from his folly in Belgium and is sent to obscurity on a plantation in Virginia. Ireland is starting the downhill slide that leads to the Great Famine of the 1840s, and cholera sweeps through London, claiming many lives. In the United States Henry Star is still profiting and brother Luke is taking the Protestant sword to the Mexicans in Texas. Stavros is desperately hoping for an opportunity to exact revenge on Luke.

  Author’s Note: I have written and punctuated Virtue’s Reward in a style reflecting English usage in novels of the period, when typically, sentences were much longer than they are in modern English. Editor’s Note: Andrew’s book was written, produced and edited in the UK where some of the spellings and word usage vary slightly from U.S. English.

  Book Eleven: A Poor Man

  at the Gate Series

  Chapter One

  Lord Frederick Masters lay in the flickering lantern light, a pool of blood slowly spreading around and underneath him despite the compresses of an anxious would-be medical man. Captain Hood stared at the scene, wondering if perhaps his task had been made easier for him. The young fool had to disappear from this place one way or another, and without creating a further uproar - he had already made it seem that the British government was behind the Belgian uprising.

  "How much is he hurt? Is he dying?"

  Seemingly a dozen voices answered at once; Captain Hood was assailed by a clamour of apology and anxiety. He rapidly gathered that it was not their fault.

  He brushed aside the excuses - he did not care who was to blame - it was night and mistakes happened in the darkness. How badly was the young gentleman injured?

  They did not know but the doctor was certainly coming; he had been called immediately, was with the main party not more than five minutes down the road. He was an old man, but should be here any minute now...

  A pair of lanterns bobbing towards them promised to be the man himself. For the while Hood thought they should set themselves into some sort of defensive order.

  "There may be cavalry on us very soon. Have you reloaded?"

  The anxious self-appointed militiamen had not thought of that, set about the process, clumsily in the half-light.

  "Please, gentlemen! Do not bring the lanterns quite so close to your powder charges!"

  They apologised again; they might not have been expert in military matters, but they were the very souls of courtesy.

  More men came trickling up the road to discover what was happening - it was boring standing around in the middle of the night with nothing to do. Revolutions were supposed to be exciting affairs.

  "There are Dutch dragoons at the farm by the river. There will be more here by first light. Who is in command?"

  They had no officers, as such, but Gaston had worn the blue with the Emperor for many years, was their local expert in military matters.

  A middle-aged farmer stood forward, said that he had been a light infantryman for ten years and, although it was some fifteen years ago, he thought he still remembered how to deal with cavalrymen.

  "Excellent, sir! I am sure you will wish to make your dispositions."

  He seemed efficient, putting men into cover on either side of the road, in positions that offered a safe retreat uphill into rocky brushland where horses would be unable to more than walk very slowly.

  "There are more than a hundred muskets where the road narrows at the bend, M'sieu. They will not pass further south without cannon and a full battalion of foot."

  Captain Hood nodded his approval.

  "What of the English milord?"

  The doctor stirred himself off his knees, slowly and stiffly - he was certainly not a young man and was of portly build.

  "An arm which will heal - it may not even be broken, just a tearing wound through the flesh. The bulk of the blood comes from the head."

  Hood breathed more easily - head-wounds bled freely, even a minor laceration spewing out the claret.

  "It is not a good wound, sir."

  Hood winced - he had evidently been too sanguine.

  "The ball has torn across the upper face, sir. Very close to the eyes. Too close, I much suspect. He will be very fortunate to see ever again from the left; for the right, I do not know. Perhaps."

  "He will be scarred then?"

  "Much, on the left. The cheek bone as well has been hurt - how much, I cannot tell in the darkness. He may well snuffle as he breathes, may be open-mouthed for the rest of his poor life. I do not know about the nose."

  "He must be taken to a place of safety, where he can receive continuing care. I do not know where would be best, sir?"

  There was a debate among the more senior men present.

  "France is in turmoil, sir. There is no gain to taking the poor young man to Paris. Brussels is equally ineligible. A fast run to the coast, sir, and then to London would be my advice."

  Hood shook his head; London was not a good idea.

  "Calais by all means, sir. Can we obtain a fast coach and four, even six horses?"

  For money anything was available; for gold coinage particularly, there was no limit.

  Dawn saw them well south and west of the border, a pair of outriders ahead of them to organise change of horses in advance. A third, intelligent young man was riding directly to Calais with instructions to charter a steamship if one was possibly available and then to locate a medical man to accompany the party for a few days.

  "Edinburgh, the destination, if you can find a man who will go there."

  There was an agreement among the educated - the hospitals in Edinburgh were among the best in Europe, renowned as such. They were also well distant from the Foreign Office, Captain Hood reflected; the politicians and officials of London rarely acknowledged the existence of the natives as far removed from civilisation as Watford. Edinburgh was as much foreign as Timbuctoo to them.

  The weather was fair and the captain of a small coaster was very willing to have one hundred gold sovereigns poured into his hand; he promised ten knots. His engineer was called on deck and blenched at the prospect;
twenty sovereigns in his own pocket and he delivered eleven knots, the paddle wheels beating the fortunately calm sea to a froth.

  Less than four days after receiving his injury Lord Frederick was in the best medical care in Britain. He was awake and could see from his right eye, though the left was bandaged. He could breathe comfortably through his mouth and the surgeons had some hope that his nose would retain its function, though that they would not promise.

  "Ye are fortunate, my lord, in that there is no sign of mortification in the face, despite the French doctor slopping brandy onto it as a cleansing agent. Better far to bind a wound up in its own blood, as all know, sir! However, be that as it may, you will not lose the use of the right eye, my lord, though I would advise the purchase of a reading glass, so as not to strain it. For the left, I do not know. Only time will tell. It is too early to despair. Be of good comfort, my lord, for in my experience a depression of the spirits can only make healing less certain!"

  Hood said his temporary farewells - he must travel south to take the word to Frederick's parents and, more importantly, to the political figures he had embarrassed.

  Once outside the ward he asked the doctor for his candid opinion, shorn of professional optimism.

  "The arm is nothing, Captain Hood. The right eye may not keep a full clarity of vision, but he will read with it despite any minor scarring there may be. The left eye may retain some acuity, but I will be surprised if he can ever tell more than light from dark with it. The cheek will be scarred, and somewhat indented, but a large patch to the eye will tend to disguise the deformity to a considerable extent. He will, perhaps, be less than handsome, but we are not talking of an` ogre here."

  "How pleasing, sir. I must inform his parents - it will be better to be honest, I believe."

  The doctor agreed - he must not give them false hopes.

  Captain Hood travelled south by post-chaise and four, taking the Great North Road and fretting at every one of the many delays; he was five days on the road to Thingdon Hall and consoled himself that he had heard of far worse. It had rained for two days and that had effectively halved his speed. At least there had been horses available at each change; it was not uncommon to be reduced to a pair or even to be forced to wait hours for boys or horses to be brought in from elsewhere.

  Robert, Viscount St Helens was at home and relieved finally to see him.

  "Three weeks, Captain Hood! I was beginning to worry, sir. Is all well?"

  "No, my lord. We have a thoroughly unsatisfactory situation in hand and I fear that the government will be dissatisfied with us. There is the potential for embarrassment, my lord. If the Dutch succeed in restoring their rule to the whole of the Low Countries then there will be questions asked."

  "What did he actually do, Captain Hood?"

  "Introduced himself by name and then, not content with that indiscretion, accompanied a consignment of muskets, powder and ball on its delivery, and, finally, brought gold to finance their endeavours. All in the open light of day! Then he was wounded through his own stupid failure to arrange a challenge and password, so that he had to be taken away publicly, in a fast coach to Calais."

  "A pity that. Could you have returned him to his house in Austria then affidavits could have been sworn that he had never left - it would have been easy enough to have produced witnesses to his accident out shooting. You say that he actually introduced himself by name in Belgium? Did he offer his calling card as well?"

  They shook their heads in unison, unable to comprehend such idiocy.

  "He is in Edinburgh at the moment? You must contact his parents, of course. It was as well, perhaps, that you did not end his career for him - they would have been upset, I expect, although he is only a second son. What do you do now, Captain Hood?"

  "Go home, I trust, my lord. I must break the news to my wife. Probably then we should travel to Edinburgh - she will wish to be with her brother, she has a close affection for him, more perhaps than she has for Rothwell. Is he still in Italy, by the way, my lord?"

  "I believe so, Captain Hood. Showing his lady the sights, one understands."

  "I trust she will be entertained by them. One would hardly wish for her to discover the need to assuage tedium in other ways."

  "I am sure she will not, Captain Hood. I had the privilege of conversation with her lady mother at the wedding - later on in the day when she was well into her second bottle!"

  Hood grinned, enquired what the lady's favourite tipple was.

  "Champagne laced with brandy, I discovered, in public that is; generally she will do without the champagne. She insisted that I join her in a glass or two, but I drank too slowly for her taste it would seem. No matter! In the course of twenty minutes of appallingly frank conversation I discovered that I must be a prude, though I had not previously realised that to be the case. She assured me that her girl was properly trained and knew all of her obligations - there would be no question of her first-born entering by the side-door, though she very much hoped it would be a son so as not to make too great a set of demands on her precious! It would be so burdensome on the poor little lass to have to cleave to her husband for a second!"

  "Good God!"

  "Quite!"

  "I spoke to the brother on that festive day, my lord. That was much earlier in the afternoon, of course, because he was carried out before the sun set. He had remarkably little to say at all. I must go, my lord. Is the Marquis in residence?"

  Grafham needed a very full explanation of all that had occurred, was annoyed that he should not have been informed before Captain Hood had left the country.

  "You must have wished to take some part in events, my lord. Your presence must be far more visible than mine. Had you been identified in the neighbourhood of Hastieres then there must have been an uproar. There still may be, of course."

  "I am glad, in fact, that you were the man settled on in the end, Captain Hood. Had it been another of your profession then he might well have knocked the poor lad over the head to tidy up the whole business with an unmarked grave. As a member of the family, which fortunately you are, Eustace, one could have no doubts of your course of action."

  'Little do you know, old fellow,' Hood thought, while bowing his head in acknowledgement of his goodfather's encomium.

  "It is my ex-profession, sir. I had already made it clear that I would venture overseas no more, but I had no choice in this instance. In any case, I suspect that I am now blown upon in the Low Countries and probably in France - my passage through the north to Calais must have been very visible, and chartering a steamer - still sufficiently uncommon to attract attention in their own right - must have brought many knowing eyes towards me. I am now very much too conspicuous for my own comfort."

  "What are you to do, Eustace?"

  "I must make a last appearance at the London offices, I fear, to report on all that has happened and to devise a cover up. After that, home, and then to escort Margaret to Edinburgh, I would expect. Then it will be back to my work - my sole occupation - at Roberts. I shall make a display of boring virtue for some few years, sir, until I am forgotten."

  "I can assure you that you will not be forgotten in the family, Eustace!"

  "I was under the impression, Captain Hood, that the young gentleman was to be caused to disappear for some years, or indeed, permanently."

  The gentlemen from the Foreign Office were not pleased. Captain Hood had been sent to make all tidy and had, if anything, made all less so.

  "I could not put a pistol to the young man's head, sir, not surrounded by enthusiastic militiamen as he was. He had made himself known, was to them a symbol of the support of His Majesty's Government. They, and any number of others, had been much pleased to discover that they were not alone, that they could confidently expect the Dutch tyranny to be crushed by the power of Britain, provided they gave a cause for such intervention. He had already, and almost single-handedly, effectively turned an upsurge of dissent into a full-blooded revolution. I was a week too lat
e on the scene, sir."

  They shook their heads, backed up into a corner and irritated - they hated to be coerced and would demand their revenge on one of those involved. Being the people they were, any man would do.

  "In effect, there is no longer an alternative, Captain Hood."

  "I can see none, sir. If the power of the Dutch government is restored then all must come to light. They will be short of direct evidence, to be sure, but they will obtain any number of statements that the British had agents actively supplying arms and gold in the area. I do not know the provenance of the muskets themselves, sir?"

  "Austrian, I believe, but purchased by a British merchant house, supposedly for the African trade."

  Slave trading was now illegal in Britain and the firms engaged in it loaded their cargoes of powder and muskets in French ports. It was an open secret, the trade far too profitable for questions to be asked.

  "Then the young gentleman has caused policy to be made, sir. The new country of Belgium must be coloured in on all of our maps."

  "It creates a very bad precedent, Captain Hood. It is not desirable in the current state of affairs that revolution should be encouraged. Sauce for the goose, sir!"

  "One must agree, sir - the masses should really be kept in their proper place, but, in this case, the uprising is in the hands of the respectable people - the farmers and the lawyers and such. They cannot be crushed quite so simply, sir. The mob may be sabred and driven back to its kennels, but these are of a different sort - in many cases their sons are the officers who would lead the dragoons."

  "Damned foreigners! The military should be the preserve of the gentry! If only they purchased their commissions then the problem would not arise! People who permit their officers to come from the wrong sort must expect trouble!"

  "Very true, sir. However..."

  The official shook his ponderous head – policy had been upset.