‘By God,’ Arthur growled. ‘Those fools back in London. Anyone would think they would rather dish their political opponents than the enemy.’

‘But Arthur, as far as they are concerned their political opponents are their enemy. The French are merely an inconvenience.’

‘Precisely. I thought I’d heard it all when news arrived of that ridiculous duel between Castlereagh and Canning. It’s a miracle only Canning was wounded. Now both men are in disgrace and out of government, precisely at the time when all Englishmen should be putting country above all else. Meanwhile, we have that religious zealot, Spencer Perceval, as Prime Minister. At least in Lord Liverpool we have a cool head as War Minister. He at least appreciates the need to keep an army here in Spain.’

‘That he does, but Liverpool is struggling to defend that point of view. There are men in the cabinet who are quite open in their calls to either have you replaced, or have the army evacuated and returned to England.’

Arthur stared into the heart of the fire and asked quietly,‘Why would they want to replace me? What reason could they have?’

‘Reason? You are a Wellesley; Richard’s brother. That is reason enough as far as they are concerned.’

‘You forget.’ Arthur smiled. ‘I am not Wellesley any more.’

‘I know. You now serve under the name of Wellington. A silly choice, if you ask me. Typical of brother William.’

‘Wellington will suffice for the present,’ Arthur replied, briefly reflecting on his ennoblement following the battle at Talavera the previous year. The King had agreed to confer a peerage on Arthur to reward his victory. William had taken charge of the process of finding a title and he had discovered a small village named Welleslie in the west country. But rather than risk confusion with Richard’s name and title, the College of Heralds had chosen the name of the nearby town of Wellington instead. And so, from September, Arthur had become Viscount Wellington of Talavera. An awkward-sounding title, he had decided.

‘We cannot afford to abandon our hold here,’Arthur continued.‘Our presence forces Bonaparte to keep a quarter of a million men tied down in the Peninsula. Every day costs the enemy dearly in lives and gold. France is slowly, but surely, bleeding itself dry. And while that continues it weakens Bonaparte’s ability to field powerful armies in the rest of the continent.’ Arthur leaned forward and tapped his brother’s knee. ‘Henry, I need you to press the case in London. You must make sure that the government does not abandon the only strategy that can defeat the French.’

Henry sighed. ‘I will do what I can, Arthur. You have my word. The trouble is that our Spanish allies are not helping the cause. Their generals seem to be incapable of mastering their French opponents.’