The Ravishing of Lady Mary Ware (18 page)

There had been no friendship between them there, because de Queircoz had been madly in love with the Ambassador's beautiful daughter, Lisala, and Roger had cut him out; but it was for another reason that the meeting was far from welcome. In Isfahan the Portuguese had
known him as
M. le Colonel de Breuc
, a member of the French mission.

However, on previous occasions he had surmounted such awkward situations arising from his dual identity; so, having returned de Queircoz's bow, he waited with a half-smile on his lips to hear how the diplomat would address him.

As it turned out, he was not called on to resort to his well-established catalogue of plausible lies, for de Queircoz said, ‘Sir, you must pardon me for accosting you, but you bear so strong a resemblance to
M. le Colonel de Breuc
that I feel sure you must be his English cousin.'

‘Indeed, Sir, I am,' Roger replied. ‘In appearance we are near-twins and have oft been mistaken for each other. I take it then that you know him?'

‘Yes, we met in Persia, and to my cost. I was then paying court to the lovely Lisala de Pombal; but, after your handsome cousin's arrival on the scene, she had no eyes for anyone but him.'

Roger nodded. ‘It seems, then,
Senhor
, that you have been twice fated to be thwarted by my family. For you may have heard that later, in Lisbon, I met Lisala, accompanied her to Brazil and married her.'

‘Yes, I did hear that. Also that, eighteen months or so ago, she died in mysterious circumstances in Germany. Please accept my sincere condolences.'

‘Alas, it was so.' Roger's face took on a suitable expression of grief. ‘As you no doubt know, her death was caused by a strange accident which has never been accounted for.'

‘So I gathered, although my informant could give me no details of the tragedy. I can only again condole with you, Sir, on your great loss.'

‘I thank you,
Senhor
.' Roger bowed, and was about to move away, when de Queircoz said:

‘While I naturally resented your cousin ruining my
chances with the
Senhorita
in Isfahan, having lost any hope of her returning my affection I bear no ill will toward you, Sir, in that later she became your wife. Two nights hence we are giving a reception at the Portuguese Embassy, and I should be honoured if you would attend it as my guest.'

It happened that Roger was free for that evening so, out of politeness, he accepted.

When he arrived at the reception, the dark-browed Portuguese received him most courteously, presented him to the Ambassador, and then to several agreeable ladies. Later in the evening he rejoined Roger, refilled his glass with wine and led him over to a small table; then said:

‘It is not for me, Sir, to enquire into your circumstances; but, unless you are immensely rich, it surprises me that you have not yet claimed the great fortune that awaits you in Lisbon.'

Since Lisala's death Roger had had so many other things to occupy his mind that his being his wife's natural heir had never occurred to him.

De Queircoz was going on: ‘The late Marquis' sister, Dona Arahna, returned from Brazil last summer. When she learned that Lisala was dead and had left no will, she applied for permission to administer her late niece's estate on behalf of her son, Captain Don Carlos, who is serving with the Anglo-Portuguese contingent under General Graham, which is bottled up with the Spanish in Cadiz. But the court ruled that the Marquis' nephew had no title to inherit unless it was proved that you, too, were dead or, for a period of seven years, had failed to make your claim. So you have only to go to Lisbon and complete the formalities, then the whole of the de Pombal millions will be yours.'

Roger thanked the Portuguese for having given him this valuable information, talked on with him for a while,
then left the party deep in thought. The following night he discussed the matter with Georgina.

There seemed no reason to believe that de Queircoz knew that Roger had been accused of his wife's murder and sentenced to death on that account; nor, as that had taken place at the other end of Europe, that anyone in Lisbon should be aware of it. Even if they were, in Portugal there was no likelihood whatever of his being apprehended for having escaped from a Prussian prison. And, although during the past twenty years he had amassed a quite considerable fortune, the prospect of becoming immensely rich was not a thing to be lightly thrown away.

He was, however, somewhat troubled by the ethics of the matter. Lisala would not willingly have left him a button, and it seemed unfair to deprive the
Senhora
de Arahna's son, who had come into his uncle's title, of the means with which to support it, and also of the family estates.

Georgina then suggested a compromise. Why should not Roger go to Portugal, establish his claim in the courts and afterwards divide his inheritance? He could hand over to the young man the estates, with sufficient money to maintain them, but keep for himself a good part of Lisala's fortune. Having made this suggestion she added:

‘During the past two months there has been hardly a day that we have not spent part of together; but we must not go on like this indefinitely, otherwise old K will say that our affaire is becoming too obvious and will start making trouble. To honour my bargain with him I ought now to spend a month or so at his seat near Newmarket. Meanwhile, you could go to Lisbon and, at least, put in your claim. Then, on your return, I'd come back to London and we would renew the happy life we have been leading.'

Roger agreed that if he went abroad for a while that would be a good way of retaining the Duke's passive
acceptance of him as Georgina's lover; so, the following morning, he went to the Foreign Office and sent up his name to the Marquis Wellesley, whom he had met several times in society.

Three-quarters of an hour later, the Marquis received him and listened politely to his request for a passage to Lisbon; then he said, ‘So you are going abroad again, Mr. Brook? I am delighted to hear it, as I have no doubt your secret activities will prove of great value to my brother.'

Staring at him in surprise, Roger replied, ‘I do not understand Your Lordship. To what secret activities do you refer?'

‘Don't fence with me, man,' the haughty Marquis said with a frown. ‘Having been Foreign Secretary for near eighteen months, I have had ample time to go through the secret files. From them I learned that for many years Mr. Pitt accounted you his most resourceful secret agent, and more recently you sent from Vienna valuable information to my predecessor, George Canning.'

Roger relaxed. ‘Then, my lord, I'll not deny it. But I have no intention of resuming my dual identity when I am in Portugal. My object in going to Lisbon is solely to claim an inheritance that is my due.'

‘That is to be regretted. I had supposed that you had become weary of leading an aimless life in London and intended again to serve your country by securing for us particulars of the intentions of the French. However, since you have a matter requiring your presence in Lisbon, I will willingly secure you a passage in one of His Majesty's ships.'

Having thanked the Marquis, Roger left his address and took his leave.

He did not have long to wait as, now that a considerable part of Portugal was in British hands, warships and transports were constantly leaving for Lisbon. Moreover,
there would be no necessity for him to land secretly on a deserted shore at night, as he had three years earlier, when the country was occupied by the French.

The following morning a sealed packet was delivered to him at Thatched House Lodge. It contained instructions that, two days hence, he should report to Captain Hurst of H.M.S.
Swiftsure
, lying off Greenwich; also a letter addressed to General the Viscount Wellington and a note from the Marquess asking him to deliver it personally to his brother.

Roger had already told Susan that he would be going abroad for a few weeks, so she and Mrs. Marsham were to return to Stillwaters. After packing the things he was likely to need, he took a fond farewell of his daughter and went up to London. That night and the next he spent with Georgina out at her little house above Kensington village. She was now loath to let him go, but resigned herself to it after he had promised to take care of himself. Next morning he said good-bye to Droopy Ned, then went down to Greenwich and presented his credentials to Captain Hurst, who allotted him a little cabin and said he was happy to have his company.

The
Swiftsure
was one of the newest frigates and she had, for the time of year, a good passage. Roger suffered only one day of really bad seasickness, and landed at Lisbon on the 31st January.

Within a couple of hours he was installed at the
Leao d'Ouro
, a comfortable inn at which he had stayed previously. While he was unpacking his bags, he ran over in his mind the course that the war in the Peninsula had taken.

It had been started by Napoleon in October 1807, with the object of forcing Portugal to accept his Continental System and cease importing British goods. Without warning he had despatched an army, under General Junot, to capture Lisbon and coerce the Prince Regent into agreeing
to his demands. Only just in time the Royal Family had escaped by sea and fled to Brazil. But Napoleon had a mind to be master of Spain also. As his reluctant ally, Spain had been bullied by him into sending her best troops to garrison fortresses in Germany, while he deployed his French troops against Austria. Then, when Spain was almost defenceless, on the excuse that the British might invade Portugal he had sent large forces, theoretically to resist such an invasion, but actually to seize, by guile and treachery, the principal fortresses in Spain.

In March, King Carlos IV had been forced to abdicate by his son Ferdinand. Napoleon had lured both of them across the frontier to Bayonne, on the pretext of adjudicating between them; but had made them prisoners. This had roused the Spanish people to such fury that, on May 2nd, the citizens of Madrid had revolted against Murat who, a few months earlier, had occupied the capital and been nominated the Emperor's Lieutenant-General.

Napoleon's next move had been to bring his brother, Joseph, from Naples and make him King of Spain, replacing him on the throne of Naples by Murat. By then it was high summer, the whole of Spain in revolt and a Junta had been formed of Spanish notables. They had little control over their scattered forces, but entered into an alliance with Britain. In an attempt to suppress the risings, Marshal Moncey had been despatched to Valencia and General Dupont down to Seville, but Moncey was forced to retire on Madrid and, to the grievous humiliation of the French who, under Napoleon, had never before suffered such a defeat, Dupont had been compelled to surrender at Baylen. Joseph had then panicked, evacuated his new capital and retired behind the Ebro.

Meanwhile, the Spaniards were putting up a fanatical resistance. Saragossa was held by Palafox until the city
was reduced to ruins by Lannes, and the French under General Duhesme were besieged in Barcelona. On August 3rd, a British army under Sir Arthur Wellesley landed in Mondego Bay. Junot went out from Lisbon to meet it and, at Vimiero, was so heavily defeated that he had to surrender. Most unfortunately, within hours of having won the battle, two Generals senior to Wellesley arrived from England and superseded him. Instead of making the whole French Army prisoner, they had entered into a Convention with Junot at Cintra to send his whole force back to France in British ships. For this incredible piece of folly, all three Generals were recalled to England and court-martialled. Only Wellesley was exonerated.

Meanwhile, Napoleon had ordered the corps of Ney, Mortier and Victor to Spain and, in October, arrived himself on the frontier to direct operations. The Spanish armies, though large, lacked all co-ordination; so the forces confronting the Emperor were strong only on the wings. Smashing through their weak centre, he routed them utterly and retook Madrid.

The year 1809 had opened by Sir John Moore landing in northern Spain. Unaware of Napoleon's great strength and believing that Madrid was still holding out, he sought to create a diversion in Old Castile and cut the Emperor's line of communication. But Napoleon learned of his whereabouts and concentrated a much larger army against him. His hasty retreat had ended with the battle of Corunna and his death. The bulk of the British army had been evacuated, leaving only a small force under General Baird, which had retired on Lisbon.

At this juncture Napoleon received information that Talleyrand and Fouché were conspiring against him, so he returned to Paris at full speed, after leaving directions as to how the campaign was to be brought to a successful conclusion. Ney was to hold down Galicia, while
Soult took Oporto, then Lisbon. Victor was to take Badajoz, then Seville. Sebastiani was to crush the Spanish resistance in the south.

In March, after an appalling slaughter of men, women and even children who, under their Bishop, had striven to defend the city, Soult had taken Oporto; but, hemmed in on all sides by guerrillas, he had not felt himself strong enough to advance any further. The following month Wellesley landed at Lisbon with a considerable army. Victor cut a large Spanish force to pieces at Medellin but, like Soult, isolated and without reinforcements, became stuck there.

In May Wellesley decided to move fast against Soult and, if successful, rapidly turn about and attack Victor. By a daring crossing of the Douro where the banks of the river were so precipitous that they had been left unguarded, he heavily defeated Soult and chased him out of Oporto; but he just failed to catch Victor, whose army had been reduced to such a state of starvation that he had withdrawn to the valley of the Tagus.

Wellesley then formed a plan with the Spanish generals that they should make a demonstration against Madrid, while he attempted to crush Victor. On June 27th, the British and French met at Talavera. Sebastiani's army had by then joined Victor, and King Joseph had brought up the last reserves from Madrid, so the French now greatly outnumbered the British. The battle was a most bloody one. It lasted two days, and there were over twelve thousand killed and wounded. Victor refused to believe that the British line could not be broken and sent his columns against it again and again. The line held, and Wellesley won a resounding victory, but he was robbed of its fruits by the hopeless incompetence of his allies, so he swore that never again would he operate with Spanish troops unless they were under his command.