Man Of War

The officers continued to affect indifference, as if a horse in the ante-room were an everyday thing.

Fairbrother braced himself for the inevitable invitation to jump a chair, or put out the candles in the dining room with a sabre, but instead the mess serjeant brought a silver tray on which was a bottle of champagne, and a gilt figurine, half the size of the bottle, of a woman, full-skirted, holding a basket above her head.

‘The late colonel-in-chief, sir,’ said the senior cornet, with a wry smile.

Hervey groaned. The figurine had been a leaving present from a mess wag: the saying had been that Princess Caroline could always be up-ended for a measure of champagne.

The senior cornet poured a good measure into the gilt basket. It pivoted at the raised hands, so that as he then slowly inverted the figure the basket remained upright. He then filled the skirt and handed it to the mess guest.

Fairbrother knew what he was supposed to do. He put the skirt to his lips and began drinking carefully, tilting the figurine gently so as not to spill from the basket, which he assumed would immediately invite replenishment. The gelding remained most obligingly still, and Fairbrother was able to drain the skirt and then the basket without spilling any of the champagne. There was a murmur of approbation from the officers, now disposed to acknowledge the jape.

‘A bumper, sir?’

Hervey frowned, unseen however; the trouble was, Fairbrother had made it look all too easy. He wondered if he should claim guest’s privileges for his friend, but somehow thought better of it. The japery was good-humoured enough, and a slightly heavier head in the morning was a small price to pay for comradely diversion.

‘With pleasure,’ replied Fairbrother, handing back the figurine.

Lord Holderness, no longer oblivious to the proceedings, turned to Hervey. ‘A fine-looking man, your Captain Fairbrother. Who are his people?’

Hervey told him as much as he knew, which was a good deal on his father’s side, much less on his mother’s, as well as adding that in the field he was the best of men, that he owed his life to him several times over. Lord Holderness was intrigued, and said that he was much taken by Fairbrother’s gentlemanlike mien. He would be pleased to receive him in Yorkshire when the manoeuvres were ended – as he would Hervey and his new bride, too.

‘That is most handsome of you, Colonel.’

Lord Holderness’s face now became more solemn. ‘Tell me, Hervey: the Waltham Abbey business – it’s the very devil of a thing that this inquiry be got up. Patent politicking. I have spoken to Lord Hill of it – you have a friend there, for certain – and I’ve a mind to raise the matter in the House.’

Hervey was somewhat abashed. ‘I am grateful to you, Colonel, but to be frank I had hoped to avoid exposure. I was told at the Horse Guards yesterday that the inquiry would be delayed, and preliminary evidence taken in camera.’

Lord Holderness nodded, weighing the information. ‘Peregrine Greville – he’s an old fool. He’ll do exactly as he’s told.’

Hervey hoped indeed that he would. Or at least as Kat told him. ‘I could have hoped for a more . . . active president, I must say.’

Lord Holderness eyed him directly. ‘But in other respects his presiding gives you no cause for disquiet?’

Hervey swallowed. He wondered what were the rumours (Kat had not always been discreet). ‘I am confident that what we did at Waltham Abbey will bear any scrutiny, Colonel.’

‘I do not doubt it,’ said Lord Holderness, though not entirely dismissive. And then he smiled again as he saw that Fairbrother was about to begin his second go.

All eyes were now firmly on Albany and his jockey as the senior cornet filled Princess Caroline’s skirt and basket with more bubbles. Fairbrother pushed his leg forward and felt for the girth fastenings, tightening them as far as he could. Then he took the figurine and drained the skirt slowly as before, managing to spill not one drop from skirt or basket – to a now generous applause of ‘bravo!’ and ‘huzzah!’

But instead of then simply finishing the modest contents of the basket, he proceeded to slide slowly out of the saddle on the offside, and head first under the gelding’s belly, holding out the figurine the while in his right hand, until, legs wrapped round the girth but now wholly inverted, he drained the basket. Then, changing hands, he proceeded to right himself on the nearside entirely by the strength of one arm.

The mess erupted. Fairbrother dismounted, and stood (remarkably steadily, thought Hervey) with the most contented of smiles, acknowledging the ovation.

‘Well,’ said Lord Holderness, shaking his head. ‘I never saw the like. I confess before he mounted I wondered whether he would be able to keep the horse between himself and the floor. What a very singular fellow. And his conversation so diverting too. I do see your attachment to him.’

‘Except that he has set a devilish precedent for every new cornet!’