At length, they finished the meal and there was an awkward silence before Kitty cleared her throat.

‘I think I will go and prepare for bed, my dear. I won’t be long. Give me a quarter of an hour before you join me.’

‘Yes. As you wish.’

They exchanged a brief, embarrassed smile, then Kitty turned and hurried from the room, leaving Arthur alone in the warm glow of the dying fire. He stared at the embers, wondering at the perverse combination of honour and indolence had led him into this predicament.There had been chances to avoid it. He could have ignored Olivia Sparrow’s entreaties to renew the correspondence. He could have taken up Kitty’s offer to meet her before committing himself to marriage. He could even have walked out of the ceremony. But the more he considered these things the more clearly he saw that he was a man driven by a sense of duty. Duty in all things. He could no more have abandoned his obligations to Kitty than he could abandon his obligations to King and country. Once set on a path he would travel it all the way to the end and apply himself to overcoming every obstacle set before him.

With a sigh he drew out his pocket watch and marked that nearly half an hour had elapsed since Kitty had gone to bed. He put the watch away, drained the last dregs of his ale and rose from the table. Outside, he passed the landlord as the latter wiped down his counter.

‘Good night, sir.’ The landlord smiled knowingly. ‘I hope you and your bride will be comfortable.’

Arthur felt something give way inside and felt the urge to snap at the landlord and tell him to mind his own damned business. But just as quickly as the urge arose, he mastered it and suppressed his anger.

‘Thank you,’ he said coolly. ‘I am sure we will. Good night.’

There was a narrow flight of stairs to the few rooms the inn provided as guest accommodation and Arthur paused as he stood outside the door of the room he had rented. He looked at the brass handle gleaming dully in the light of the candle flickering in a wall bracket. Then, stiffening his resolve, he entered the room. It was a modest size with clean plaster walls. A large bed rested against the far wall, and a candle burned in a holder on the small table to one side. Under the thick bedcovers he could make out the slender shape of Kitty, lying quite still. Her nightcap covered her hair and only a small expanse of her face was visible above the covers.

‘Won’t be a moment, my dear,’ said Arthur as he crossed to his travelling chest. He undressed unhurriedly, slipped on his nightshirt and turned towards the bed. Kitty did not seemed to have moved, and she made no sound.The only noise in the room was the faint rustle of the branches of a chestnut tree just outside the window. Arthur slipped under the covers and lay facing his wife. She had her back to him and for a moment Arthur wondered if she might be asleep, and he did not move.Then the covers stirred and her hand reached back towards him, groping across the sheet for his hand. Finding his fingers, she interlaced her own and gave a gentle squeeze.

‘Are you ready, my love?’ he whispered.

‘Yes,’ came the reply, soft as a light breeze.

Arthur edged closer and drew Kitty over so that she lay on her back. Her eyes were wide as she stared up at him, terrified by this new intimacy. Arthur leaned over her and kissed her on the lips, feeling hers tremble. He kissed her again, and let his fingers caress her neck, down to the breast of her nightshirt. As the tips brushed her nipple Kitty gave a small cry and Arthur felt a sudden hot stirring in his loins. His hand continued to move over her stomach, and then he began to draw the material of her nightdress up until he could feel the smooth bare flesh. His hand paused a moment before tracing its way down to the soft tuft of hair. Kitty gasped.

‘Are you all right, my love?’ he asked.

‘Yes, yes.’ Her eyes were tightly shut. ‘Arthur, my dear, please . . . please don’t hurt me. Please be gentle with me.’

‘I will.’

He was now fully aroused and he gently eased her legs apart and climbed over her. Kitty’s sex was dry and unyielding as he pressed the tip of his penis against her.There was resistance for a moment, and then he entered her. She cried out in surprise and a little pain and her hands grasped his shoulders tightly. Arthur thrust home, again and again, working his way up to a quick, joyless climax, and as soon as it was over he rolled to one side and lay gazing at the ceiling as his heart pounded passionlessly. Kitty lay still for a moment, and then began to cry silently, though he could feel the little judders through the mattress.

For a moment he thought about trying to comfort her, but no words came, and he turned away and blew out the candle on his side of the bed and lay in the dark, not sleeping and filled with a deadening sense of despair.

Chapter 19

The honeymoon was over in less than a week and when the newly married couple returned to Dublin Arthur was riding on top of the carriage with the driver, while Kitty sat alone in the cab. Gerald immediately offered to accommodate his brother and his bride. The following morning Arthur booked passage on a ship leaving for Bristol the same afternoon, and then made arragements for Gerald to escort his wife from Dublin once she had settled her affairs in Ireland. With his travelling chest packed Arthur sent for a cab and made ready to leave. Gerald and Kitty were sitting in the front parlour when Arthur joined them, his coat and gloves already on.

‘My goodness,’ said Gerald. ‘You don’t waste any time!’

‘Alas, I have none to waste,’ Arthur replied briskly. ‘Duty calls me back to London. I have to support Richard in Parliament, and there is a brigade to command. Not only that,’ he turned to Kitty and forced a smile, ‘I have to find a home worthy of my bride.’

Kitty smiled back and it pained him to see how easily she could be pleased. As easily as she could be hurt, he realised. Arthur felt shamed by his duplicity. In truth he was burdened by the dreadful knowledge that he had made the mistake of his life in marrying Kitty. That had become clear enough in the long days of the honeymoon as they travelled in frequent silence, the gulf between them merely becoming even more starkly apparent when they did start to talk. While Arthur had voyaged to India, fought battles, commanded armies and become the ruler of the kingdom of Mysore in all but title, it was as if Kitty had sat on the shelf gathering dust. Conversation was awkward. There was much he wanted to tell her, to discuss. Yet Kitty’s world had been utterly different from his own these eleven years and they struggled to find common ground on many issues. Their talk was stumbling and broken and the silences filled with self-consciousness. The only comfort was that their lovemaking at least had improved as Kitty’s initial apprehension about the act dissolved. Even so, after five days Arthur found her company stifling and was desperate to return to London, where he could busy himself and not dwell on the mistake he had made.