13th June: Mapping out surroundings

"Tea right now would be a very welcome distraction, I must confess," Vickery replied, removing the books holding the map flat, which allowed it to roll itself up again. He picked it up and held it out to its owner. "I am sure your batman will not thank me for accepting your invitation, however."

Edward raised an eyebrow.

"From this I'd gather that I still have a batman. I must confess that I'm very grateful for that."

He was faintly shocked by the discovery that he hadn't even considered the alternatives, nor spend any though on whether Rottländer could do it. He knew theoretically how to make tea, of course, but that wasn't the point. In England he had asked and others had hurried to fulfil his wishes; he had never needed to bother with details. If something was beyond his current staff, his steward told him that he either needed more money or more people (which in the end usually was the same), Edward agreed to the expense, and things proceeded according to his wishes after all. It had been simple.
Intellectually he had known that things would be different here, but until now he had never had to feel it yet.

Of course Rottländer couldn't handle everything at once, and Edward knew that he was too shy and inexperienced yet to protest. It was abominable of him not to have thought this through more completely beforehand; to make matters worse, it had to be Captain Vickery, someone who could claim the same excuses he had, who clearly saw his failings and pointed them out. The quiet reproach stung even more because Edward knew that he had deserved it.

His cheeks colouring slightly, he took back the offered map and said:

"I hope I can find something to make him forgive me the additional trouble. Or perhaps you would allow that on this occasion someone helps him a bit?"

Vickery noticed the slight flush of Torrington's cheeks, but forbore to say anything; it would only make him more uncomfortable. "I am sure my own man will not mind helping, Cotton is usually very good at that sort of thing. And it may, perhaps, give you an opportunity to discuss the terrain with him? Of course, it may not suit and I can send him to see you at any time that is mutually convenient."

Although, of course, it would be Torrington's convenience that would take precedence.

"Rottländer is very enthusiastic; I think he perhaps needs a steady hand on the reins to temper that enthusiasm, however," he added, musingly.

Edward accepted the bridge Vickery had built gratefully.

"Thank you. That would be most welcome."

The corners of his mouth kicked up at Captain Vickery's understated description of his batman's whirlwind zealousness. Then he remembered the debacle his first breakfast here had nearly become, when his well-meaning dismissal of his batman to get his own breakfast had nearly ended in Rottländer believing that he was dismissed because Edward didn't like his service, and realized that the task wouldn't be as easy as it sounded. But ... Edward had come to Portugal to prove that he was not only a pampered Lord, that he could survive and make a contribution out here. He hadn't expected that his first challenge would be to solve staff problems, but certainly a man whose teachers had certified him to have a higher-than-average intelligence should be able to find a way to make sure his own servant didn't run himself ragged without walking over his feelings?

"I will certainly try to make sure that he doesn't burn down like a match. It is only to be hoped that Rottländer realizes soon that I can not only give orders, but also listen, and that I'm unlikely to eat riflemen for breakfast."

"He is young, and enthusiasm comes easily to the young," Vickery remarked. He hoped that Rottländer would develop the skill to go along with his enthusiasm - and soon. "Just tell him that you wouldn't eat a Rifleman because you can't be bothered picking out all the buttons from your teeth," he added, somewhat dryly. "If necessary, I am sure Cotton will step in and give him a helping hand; it is the sort of thing he does, teaching the younger ones."

The discussion of their separate batmen had Blackwood shaking his head. His own was far from energetic or enthusiastic, though he would agree the poor lad probably feared Blackwood might eat him.

"I shouldn't object if my own man was a trifle more eager," he remarked mildly.

"Has he been long in your service, Sir?" Edward asked, his curiosity unfeigned. Having seen only Cotton and Rottländer, he had taken a certain perfectionism to be the normal way of batmen.

"A week, at the most," was Blackwood's answer. He hesitated a moment, then added, "The poor fellow is of a nervous nature, I suspect. He is not at all confident in his new duties."

"Oh Lord. Mine isn't either." Edward chuckled sympathetically. "Only he copes by trying to do everything at once and overachiving. If he continues to feed my like now, my horse will complain. Perhaps we might introduce them to each other so that they can find a middle way?"

Blackwood shook his head. "I fear for my man's health, should such a meeting occur, though the offer is generous."

"I don't think Rottländer is quite such a whirlwind as that," Vickery put in at this point.

"I think you may have seen him at his worst this morning, Captain. He's quite young, tends to get easily flustered and he wanted to make a point out there, but from what I have seen so far, he is also reliable and considerate. But I must admit that my suggestion was rather selfish. I hold some hope that if he gets better connected in the camp, has more friends to talk to and rely on, he can not only improve his English, but also acquired a bit more self-assurance. So please don't think it in any way generous."

"It is more my fellow I worry for," Blackwood explained. "He is likely to injure himself either in an attempt to keep up with your man or in an effort to clear out of his way."

"Ah ..."

Well, that was pretty much unanswerable. How had a Captain of the Guards ended up with such a batman?

"Then I will hope for your sake that they will never meet, of course."

"I am sure they will settle down and develop into capable servants, if they apply themselves to the task," Vickery said briskly.

"I don't think you need fear that Rottländer will apply himself with less than his custom favour."

Edward chuckled very softly.

"Please accept my sincere apologies if Cotton should get gray by this. Rottländer seems well inclined to listen to his advice and learn from him, but if it is a bother ... you need only say a word."

"I think Cotton will manage. He's a sensible enough man, after all." Vickery chuckled in turn. "I daresay it'll be good practice for when he has children to bring up."

"Probably. Although the children hopefully will inherit his sensible disposition as well."

Children. Was Cotton married? He still knew so little about the people around him.

"I hope so," Vickery said, and noticed Torrington's expression. "Oh, I beg your pardon. I believe you have met Cotton. You probably don't know that he recently married Maggie Evans, one of the women following the Company. She came out to Portugal with a Corporal who was unfortunately killed at Vimeiro in the summer. I am sure you will meet her soon, especially if your batman does start learning his trade from Cotton."

"I would be honoured."

A strange thing to say about a common soldier's wife, but everything else felt ... impolite. Edward was grateful that Vickery had provided that information. He would not want to cut Mrs. Cotton inadvertently; not after all the help Cotton had given him here. Even so there were worlds between them socially, he felt that Cotton had the same claim to his good behaviour as his high-born acquaintances had, even so the expression of it would differ. More perhaps, because Cotton actually had done something to earn his regard.

Then he suddenly remembered the woman from yesterday morning.

"Was she perhaps the woman who kept such a remarkable head when that poor soldier - Newbury, wasn't it? - made his unwilling appearance at the camp-fire yesterday?"

Vickery nodded. "Yes. She and Cotton are very well suited, I find. If their children inherit anything of the parents' character, I think they will have more than their share of sense."

"Their children will be happy to have such parents."

Edward nearly smiled; it was still rather strange standing here in a tent, discussing soldier's children, while outside soldiers drilled for an attack that might come any day. Half a year ago he hadn't thought he would do such a thing. Half a year ago probably nobody had thought that he would ever do such a thing. The taunts that had made him swear to come here hadn't been completely unfounded. Yet he was here and actually enjoyed it.

"What will happen to our French guest now? Is there any chance that he could perhaps be used in exchange for the women who are still held prisoner?"

"He may well be, and will be fortunate indeed if that turns out to be the case. Most prisoners are sent back to Lisbon to be shipped to England."

Discussing Cotton's family was certainly interesting, although Vickery couldn't believe Torrington was as interested as he seemed to be.

"How about your own family? I trust they are all well? I fancy I must have seen them in Town at some point. I could be mistaken, of course." But as their families moved in the same circles, it was not unlikely.

"As far as I know, yes, thank you. My father was still fixed in town when I left, but I believe Mother and Isabella have retired to the country now."

The thought of his impetuous little sister made him inwardly smile. She hadn't been presented yet and tried to talk her mother into doing so during the little season. Edward wondered whether she would succeed.
He pondered Vickery's question; it was unlikely that Vickery had met William, his now dead twin, because he hadn't in the least recognized him. His parents ... Their fathers had probably met, possibly even their mothers. But his father was firmly established in political circles and most of his parents acquaintances and engagements came from that circle, so chances for a meeting with a young army captain were slim.

"You may perhaps have met my sister Elizabeth, now Lady Thine. She was presented five years ago and has been in town nearly every season since, making quite a name as a hostess for herself. But may I inquire after your own family? I hope they find themselves quite well, too?"

"I believe my mother may be acquainted with her - Viscountess Saltash. My mother goes up to Town every Season, and my own sister, Emma, was presented two years ago. I believe Emma, like my father, prefers the country. They are all quite well, thank you for asking - and I hope your family is likewise well?"