By My Sword Alone by David Black (ebook reader ink TXT) 📕

But to the world he continued his denial with what he felt was a reasonable vehemence. ‘And I carry no instructions from my liege lord James Francis Edward Stuart on any matter that might so pertain. Upon my honour, sir.’

Lacy flopped back in his chair with a sigh. ‘No, no. I never for one moment thought you did. If you had, there would have been a trail a mile wide. And there is nothing. Nothing, except this tedious woman spreading dangerous ideas. I am sure you know to whom I refer. The Gräfin von Kettler.’

‘I do, sir. Except I think I can say with some certainty she does not speak for the court of King James,’ said James, thinking it wise now to engage with this conversation given the turn it had taken.

Another long suffering sigh came from Lacy. ‘Indeed. But for such a notion to become common currency would still be demeaning for his royal personage. A smear against his name. The very thought that he might have acquiesced in his royal self being mentioned in the context of a raffle such as the Polish succession sejm would be seen as vulgar beyond redemption in every court across Europe. But consider … for any such bid to be actually launched … and then to be unsuccessful ... for unsuccessful it would surely be … that would be beyond disgrace. A humiliation from which your king in waiting could never recover. Indeed, it would be a smear against the entire reputation of the Stuart dynasty and a great gift to the fat German farmer who currently rests his commodious buttocks on Britain’s throne. I tell you all this of course, not because they are my own thoughts, but those of the tsarina and her ministers.’

James had often thought as much himself since his conversation with de Valençay. But what he said was, ‘Are you suggesting the Stuarts act to prevent such rumours, sir? Surely by their nature they are like a virulent disease and all but impossible to stem?’

‘Oh that would not be for the Stuarts to attend to,’ said Lacy with a dismissive wave. ‘Their friends would see to that. What I am saying, and what you might say should you ever resume your correspondence with the Palazzo del Re, is that my mistress the tsarina looks forward with much complacency to a Stuart on the throne of Great Britain once again. It would suit her most admirably and she would do as much in her power to facilitate it.’

And with that, Lacy’s smile disappeared, and his voice took on a timbre of menace. ‘Which is why she takes such a hostile view to any machination that might besmirch James’ name and consequently his prospects. Which is also why she is adamant his embassies should not be looking for a part-time job for him in a place where his interests would be better served by alliances with people who are well disposed towards him, and not in direct intervention into politics he does not understand, and thus might jeopardise that affection.’

Taken aback by the tone the general had now adopted, James bought time. ‘I am not involved in King James’ political circles, and am not party to the advice they tender, sir. Nor do I seek to be.’

‘Yes! Yes! And it is a wise position to adopt, for it is pure silliness for a soldier of fortune to involve himself in such matters. And dangerous. But it is even sillier for him not to be aware that they exist. This is middle Europe, where the imperial dynasties of the Romanovs and the Hapsburgs are neighbours. We have a way of organising our affairs here that suits us very well. And in that spirit, we have chosen Augustus of Saxony to be king of the Poles. He is a very fine fellow and one who is most accommodating to us and the Hapsburgs. We know what to expect of him and he of us. France and their Bourbon cousins in Madrid are supporting this Stanislas fellow against him as an act of pure diplomatic vandalism. Mostly to irritate the Hapsburgs, for there has long been bad blood between France and Austria. But the tsarina is upset too. Allowing a Pole to sit on the Polish throne opens all sorts of possibilities for outbreaks of waywardness in the very place where we all live. Not the French or the Spanish. And believe me, the Poles are a people much given to waywardness. No, Augustus suits all our purposes admirably. That is why we fight. For stability and peace to get on with our affairs, not some manufactured notion of nationhood, or collective destiny and so-called rights. And that is why your king entering the fray would be such a distraction, for us, and for him.’

James nodded sagely, but all the while thinking, stability for whom? And exactly what affairs will they be getting on with? And what is so abhorrent about a people wishing to rule themselves? But he said none of that. Instead, he said, ‘Do you wish me to mention all this to Dorothea von Kettler, sir? By way of impressing upon her she must desist from her indiscretions in future?’

The stern glint came back into Lacy’s eye. ‘I do not advise it, chevalier. We shall take her aside the next time she pays us a visit.’

James suddenly saw where this was leading. How best to ensure someone desists? Kill them. He found himself wondering how they would do it. But then that would depend on all the politics he did not understand. How strategic was Courland? How important was Russia’s good name in all this? Those considerations plus ones he could not guess at, would determine whether it would just be cold-blooded murder, or if she might accidently, fatally, collide with a cannon ball while passing through the lines.

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