Dublin offered other pleasures of the most carnal and sophisticated kind. And there was no more infamous club than Fitzpatrick's on Birdsall Street. So infamous, in fact, that it had an appendix all of its own in the latest edition of Harris's List of Covent Garden Ladies. It was to Fitzpatrick's that Arthur and Dancing Jack were making their way on a humid July evening. Even though it was past eight o'clock Dublin was bathed in a warm orange glow, accentuated by a thin mantle of smog. Aside from a brief shower earlier that day the weather had been glorious for the last week and the streets stank of sewage.The two officers were passing through one of the slum neighbourhoods and the streets were filled with ragged barefoot children, gaunt with hunger but still playing games amid the rubbish and filth strewn the length of the street. Loud singing spilled from a drinking-house at the end, and several men were slumped against the wall, having drunk themselves into oblivion. A haggard-faced whore was calmly going from one man to the next, rifling their pockets.

'Away with you!' Jack lashed at her with his cane and she shrieked as the blow landed across her shoulders. 'Bloody thief!' He raised his cane again and the woman scrambled back, rose to her feet and scurried round the corner.

Arthur glanced about and saw that the people in the street were gazing at the two smartly dressed officers with open hostility. 'Come, Jack, this is not a friendly place.'

'Not friendly? Pah! This lot are nothing more than craven cowards.' He waved his hand dismissively at the people in the street. 'Like all the Irish. Black-hearted barbarians fit for nothing but growing potatoes.'

'Quiet, Jack.You'll get us killed.'

The door of the drinking-house burst open and two men rolled into the street, cursing and snarling as they grappled on the filthy cobblestones. One of the men snatched a shillelagh from his coat and before the other could react he smashed the small club down on the other man's skull. There was a dull crunch and the man fell back unconscious, blood welling up from under his hair. His assailant did not spare a second in bending over him and pounding away at the head of his victim, until his face was spattered with blood and brains. He glanced up, saw the two officers watching and took to his heels.

Jack looked over his white breeches to make sure that they had not been hit by any of the flying droplets of blood. 'Like I said, black-hearted barbarians. Where else in this world are you likely to come across a thieving whore and a murderer in the space of less than a minute? Tell me that, Arthur.'

Arthur took a step towards the man lying in the street. 'We should get him to a doctor.'

'No point, Arthur. He's well beyond help now, and we're late. If we're not at Fitzpatrick's by the appointed hour then my sweet Mary will have found herself another man for the night. Let's go.'

Arthur took a last look at the body, wincing as blood trickled around the cobbles towards the gutter. Then he straightened up and hurried after his friend.

With the arrival of summer the vicereine gave fewer balls and instead concentrated on planning and holding fine picnics in the surrounding countryside. Before he began to attend these events Arthur had conceived of picnics as being largely informal affairs consisting of a hurriedly packed picnic basket in response to a spontaneous call to take advantage of a hot summer's day. His parents and brothers and sisters would go scrambling across the fields around Dangan until a quiet spot was found by a stream in which they could cool their bare feet as they ate bread and cold meats and cheeses. By contrast the picnics organised by the vicereine amounted to a complex culinary campaign that would have rivalled a military exercise in the demands it placed upon staff officers to co-ordinate movements of guests, supplies of food and entertainments.These arrangements tended to keep the aides fully occupied for days at a time, and Arthur could not help thinking that they represented her revenge on the awkward squad of Dublin Castle.

On picnic days, the carts and wagons of those hired to prepare the food arrived at the spot chosen before the vicereine's guests arrived. Tents were set up, orchestras tuned their instruments in the shade of trees and vast amounts of cold meats and delicacies prepared.

The general high spirits amongst those who attended the picnics thoroughly infected Arthur, and he was often to be discovered talking at the top of his voice to his cronies. Once he had taken a few drinks the alcohol brought out a malevolent mischief in him, and many picnics were spoiled for some by finding some rather unpleasant wildlife in their picnic hampers. Or he might push someone into a river, or inform their coach drivers that their vehicles were no longer needed, so that the owners faced a long walk back into Dublin.

Eventually the vicereine had had enough and summoned Lieutenant Wesley to her private apartments at the start of August. Arthur knocked on the doors to her rooms and was shown to her office by a footman.

'Lieutenant Wesley to see you,Your Grace.'

'Show him in.'

The footman beckoned and Arthur marched through the door and stood to attention as the footman closed the doors gently behind him and left his mistress and her guest alone.The vicereine was an elegant lady some years older than Arthur and considerably wiser. She sat at a small escritoire and quickly finished a note she was writing on a sheet of vellum, before closing the lid of her inkwell and setting her pen down. She gazed at him for a while until Arthur became uncomfortable and his mind raced with ideas about the reason for this summons to a private interview.

'Sit down, Lieutenant.'

'Yes,Your Grace.' He pulled up one of the chairs that lined the room, ready for the intimate recitals that she sometimes held here.

'Arthur, if I may call you that?'

He nodded.The resort to his first name did not bode well and he swallowed nervously.

'Arthur, do you know why you are here?'

'No, Your Grace.' He recognised the strategy and felt like a naughty schoolboy caught out by his teacher.

She smiled briefly. 'Behaviour is what I wish to discuss with you. Namely, your behaviour – or lack of it, I should say.'

'Your Grace? I'm not sure I understand.'

'I hope you do,Arthur, because it is the only way in which you may be redeemed. Frankly, I am tired of the ceaseless pranks that you play on some of the guests at my picnics.'

'I do not mean to cause offence,Your Grace.'

'You do worse than that, Arthur.You cause annoyance.You are like a small spoiled brat of a boy, the kind that does his utmost to ruin birthday parties and that sort of thing. Just to gain attention. Well, now you have my attention and all I can say is that I am beginning to wish that my husband had never consented to your brother's request that you become an aide. It's a shame, a great shame, for I like nothing more than to be surrounded by handsome, charming men like yourself. I can see that you have potential, but at present, this boorish behaviour of yours will not do. Do you understand?'

'Yes,Your Grace. I apologise most humbly.'

'Arthur, I'm not interested in your apologies. I'm only interested in having untroubled picnics. To which end I would appreciate it if you would not attend any more social events until the end of the summer. It would be best for all concerned. You may use the time to consider whether you really do deserve a place here at the castle, or whether you might be better off in another, more remote, posting. Do I make myself clear?'

'Yes,Your Grace.'

'Then go. I've had quite enough of you for now.'

Chapter 47

To the delight of the vicereine Arthur Wesley heeded her advice and began to mature into the kind of responsible gentleman that she prided in having at her court. No longer was there an endless stream of complaints about his behaviour. To be sure, there were still a few occasions when he annoyed some local dignitary or other, but no more so than the rest of the members of her 'awkward squad'. Indeed, by the end of the year something of a transformation had occurred and now Arthur was once again welcomed to the balls where he danced gracefully, drank modestly and conversed in a mature and engaging fashion.