shadow of britain

Chapter 798 A pawn crossing the river becomes a chariot

Arthur knew that his words had struck a nerve with Rowan, but he had no intention of rubbing salt into the wound.

He leaned against Rowan's desk with his arms crossed: "Sir, I hope you can take this incident seriously. On the surface, it's just a common court farce, the daily arrogance of aristocratic playboys. But in reality, it's a major issue concerning the stability of Britain for decades to come."

Rowan stared at him: "What do you mean?"

Arthur lit his pipe and took a slow puff. "His Majesty the King is 70 years old this year and will soon celebrate his 71st birthday. I don't mean to curse him, but everyone understands that his days are numbered. The choice of successor to the throne will determine the future political direction of the entire country. But think about it, what exactly is the choice facing the British people now?"

He paused, then continued, "The Duke of Cumberland has stated publicly on numerous occasions that he prefers militarized governance and is a monarch who prefers to govern the country from horseback. He has even mentioned on several occasions that national security should not be maintained by the police, but by the army and the Royal Guard. If he ascends the throne, Scotland Yard's position will inevitably be greatly weakened, and it may even be reorganized into the military system."

Rowan certainly understood this, but as a pure veteran and career police officer, he was usually reluctant to delve too deeply into politics: "The conservative forces behind Cumberland are considerable, that's true, but do you really think supporting Victoria is a safe bet? She's the Whig's preferred heir to the throne, and although many of our lower-ranking officers became her supporters after Robert Culley's memorial service, I believe many officers still remember how the Whigs treated us over the years."

Arthur glanced up at the smoke drifting from his pipe to the roof. He didn't refute Rowan's point of view; on the contrary, he even expressed agreement: "I'm well aware that the Whigs haven't been enthusiastic about the police system over the years. To be honest, sir, I might not be any less disgusted with the Whigs than you are. You dislike Melbourne and despise Duncannon, and as for me, I'm sure you've heard about my relationship with Palmerston in many news reports."

Arthur paced back and forth unhurriedly, his hands behind his back: "Moreover, we have something in common; we both agree with Sir Robert Peel's policies. After all, Sir Robert Peel was the one who spearheaded the creation of Scotland Yard, and his initial intention in establishing Scotland Yard was to replace the traditional militarized management model with professional and specialized police officers. It's true that we dislike the Whigs, but that doesn't mean we should throw the baby out with the bathwater and turn to the High Tories."

Rowan was amused and annoyed by Arthur's words: "Then can you arrange for a prince who leans towards the Peel faction to ascend to the throne? If you can, I would be very willing to support you, and I can even break the principle that Scotland Yard must strictly adhere to political neutrality for this purpose."

“Hmm…” Arthur pondered for a moment, “If you are really willing to make this kind of sacrifice, I am willing to give it a try.”

Upon hearing this, Rowan immediately felt as if he had fallen into Arthur's verbal trap.

However, after Arthur properly handled Officer Robert Culley's funeral arrangements, Rowan's attitude towards Arthur became much more tolerant than before, so he was not in a hurry to get angry.

He simply poured himself a cup of tea and said indifferently, "You're still the same as ever, here on a mission again today?"

"With a mission?" Arthur smiled. "Sir, you're being too harsh. I just want to secure a better future for Scotland Yard."

Rowan glanced at him, holding his teacup: "And what about your own future?"

"That's irrelevant; my future is just a side path."

“I hope so.” Rowan blew on the steaming tea. “Then I’ll believe you. At least your conscience is still reliable in Scotland Yard. Now tell me, how are you so sure that Princess Victoria will become a staunch supporter of the Peel Party?”

Arthur tapped his pipe in the ashtray: "Princess Victoria herself doesn't actually have any clear preference for the Whig Party. She's only sixteen this year. What kind of firm understanding of political ideology can you expect from a girl that age?"

Rowan neither confirmed nor denied this: "But you have to admit that she always gives off a Whig vibe in public."

Arthur chuckled softly. "Isn't it because she sees all those so-called celebrities that the Whigs fawn over every day? Melbourne, Duncannon, Palmerston, and even that incredibly talkative Mr. Thomas Macaulay—look at these names, aren't they all big names in the Whig Party? How could a naive girl like her, seeing these people every day, not be influenced? And even if she could remain unmoved, the newspapers listing her name alongside a string of Whig Party labels gives the impression that she's a staunch liberal heir to the throne."

Rowan put down his teacup and said, "You mean, as long as the people around her are changed, her political leanings will change? Arthur, it's not that I don't believe in your abilities, but you've been boasting on this matter."

“That’s right, I really can’t control these things at this stage. You say I made a boast, and I can’t refute that.” Arthur nodded. “However, you may not know the situation inside Kensington Palace. On the surface, it’s the Duchess of Kent who arranges the tutors and social routes for Princess Victoria, but in reality, it’s Sir John Conroy who makes the decisions.”

"Conroy? You mean that Irishman?"

“It’s that Irishman.” Arthur’s voice deepened. “Conroy’s political stance is actually ambiguous, and his relationship with the Whigs isn’t very solid. But as someone who craves power and status, he can only associate with the most influential people he can reach, those most helpful to Victoria’s succession to the throne. But as you know, most of the Conservative nobles look down on this Irishman. As a result, Her Highness sees teachers and guests recommended by the Whigs to curry favor with her every day.”

Rowan raised an eyebrow: "Are you trying to act as a go-between for Conroy and the Peel Faction?"

Arthur smiled and shook his head: "That's probably difficult to achieve in the short term. You know Sir Robert Peel's character. Although he never uses bloodline to measure a person's worth, Sir John Conroy is not good enough for him in terms of ability and knowledge."

Rowan still didn't understand Arthur's meaning: "If that's the case, what were you trying to achieve by giving such a long speech just now?"

Arthur placed his pipe on the table and gave a meaningful smile: "Sir, what I just said was not to try to bring Peelers and Conroy closer together. On the contrary, I do not recommend that Peelers get too involved with Conroy."

Rowan narrowed his eyes slightly, as if he understood something: "You mean that Conroy not only can't help us, but might even make things worse?"

“That’s right, sir. You may not know the true situation Sir Conroy is in Kensington Palace. He is indeed the Duchess of Kent’s most trusted right-hand man and Her Highness’s most important advisor, but at the same time, Her Highness also deeply resents him. His control over the princess is meticulous, interfering in everything from her daily life to her public appearances, even what books she reads and who she meets. This suffocating mode of control has long been unbearable for Her Highness.”

Arthur paused briefly, then continued, “The princess is only sixteen this year, sir. Young people at this age are often more sensitive to and more rebellious towards authority imposed upon them. Therefore, Sir John Conroy’s oppressive rule, though seemingly solid, has actually backfired.”

Rowan frowned; as a retired army officer, he clearly disliked beating around the bush. "Alright, Arthur, I understand the situation. But what I really want to know now is, what exactly do you want to do?"

Seeing that the precautions had been taken, Arthur stopped hiding his intentions: "Sir, frankly speaking, what Kensington Palace really needs right now is not someone like Conroy."

"What kind of people are needed?"

Instead of answering directly, Arthur asked in return, "What do you think? What kind of person do you think Kensington Palace needs?"

Rowan stroked his chin thoughtfully. After being guided by Arthur for so long, he quickly found the answer: "Kensington Palace needs... needs someone who can better influence Her Highness the Princess, and who is also more in line with the interests of Scotland Yard..."

The moment those words left his lips, Rowan couldn't help but widen his eyes slightly. If he still didn't understand what Arthur was implying, then he was a mere guard.

Arthur smiled, picked up his teacup, and lightly clinked it against Rowan's: "Cheers, sir! Your idea is excellent."

“You rascal…” Rowan, holding his teacup, looked like he’d seen a ghost. “Arthur, I have to say, back when you were still at Scotland Yard, I thought many of your ideas were incredibly innovative, but I also have to admit, I didn’t expect you to maintain that quality.” “Thank you for your recognition, sir.”

“I’m not trying to compliment you.” Rowan rubbed his head, feeling as if he had caught a migraine in addition to his rheumatism. “How did you come up with these crazy ideas?”

However, Arthur didn't give him a chance to think. He continued, "You may not know this, but Conroy's position at Kensington Palace is so secure mainly because of two pillars: the Duchess of Kent's unconditional trust in him, and Princess Sophia's support."

“Princess Sofia?” Rowan frowned. He finally understood everything that had happened tonight.

“That’s right.” Arthur nodded and explained, “The Duchess of Kent controls everything in the princess’s daily life, and Conroy indirectly controls the Crown Prince’s activities by taking advantage of the Duchess’s trust. At the same time, he also needs to rely on Princess Sophia’s court connections to ensure that he can keep track of all the happenings within the court.”

Upon hearing this, Rowan couldn't help but mutter, "No wonder His Majesty the King and His Majesty Leopold both dislike him, yet can't get rid of him from Kensington Palace. It turns out that His Majesty the King has Princess Sophia protecting him, while Leopold has the Duchess of Kent handling him..."

Rowan gradually understood Arthur's intention: "In other words, as long as you can break Conroy's connection with either of these two pillars, his position at Kensington Palace will immediately become unstable?"

Arthur nodded slightly: "Even if we can't get rid of him right away, we can at least gouge out his eyes."

“Hmm…” Rowan pondered for a moment, then agreed, “Alright, if it’s just about dealing with Conroy, then I don’t care. He may be all-powerful in Kensington Palace, but once he steps outside of Kensington Palace and onto the land of the London metropolitan area, he’s nothing.”

Clearly, Lord Rowan was more inclined to trust Sir Arthur Hastings, the Scotland Yard legend, than to befriend Conroy.

There's nothing we can do; he's one of our own.

Moreover, for Scotland Yard, Arthur has already volunteered to take the lead and shoulder the most difficult part of the whole process. All Scotland Yard needs to do is to make things easier for him in some "minor details", turn a blind eye within their capabilities, and occasionally give him a push or contribute their share. There is really nothing difficult about that.

But Sir Arthur Hastings' friends all knew that he always liked to save the difficult questions for last.

Sure enough, as soon as Rowan relented, Arthur immediately made a new request.

Rowan had just breathed a sigh of relief and hadn't even swallowed his tea when Arthur casually said, "There's one more small matter, sir. I need to trouble you to arrange something for me."

Rowan's lips twitched slightly. He slowly put down his teacup and glanced at him sideways: "You really know how to pick the right time to assign me tasks. So, who are you going to investigate this time?"

Arthur's tone was almost excessively mild: "I hope Scotland Yard will send someone to keep an eye on Lord Elphinstone's recent travels."

“Elphinstone?” Rowan frowned, his voice instantly dropping to a low hue. “You mean, Lord Elphinstone, the gentleman of His Majesty’s bedchamber?”

Arthur nodded slightly: "It is this one."

Rowan narrowed his eyes, his displeasure evident: "Arthur, you've gone too far this time. You want me to send someone to keep an eye on a king's personal attendant? Even just tracking his travel routes would be enough to cause us trouble if the case were exposed. You have to give me a reason. We can't just do it because you call it a 'small matter'."

Arthur didn't reply immediately. Instead, he turned around, took out a neatly folded note from his bag, and handed it to Rowan.

This morning I dreamt of snowflakes falling from your temples, and when I awoke, your fragrance still lingered on my pillow. It's getting chilly, so don't forget to add layers. If we could meet tomorrow on the east side of the orange grove, I would be overjoyed.

There was no signature, no wax seal on the paper, and not even a date.

But Rowan was an old hand at the trade. He knew from the line “east of the Orangery” that it referred to the semi-enclosed greenhouse in the royal gardens in the southeast corner of Kensington Palace, a place that was usually only accessible to members of the royal family and their retinues.

He looked at it carefully twice more, and finally looked up at Arthur: "The handwriting..."

“Princess Victoria’s handwriting.” Arthur nodded. “I have many of her lecture notes. If you don’t believe me, I can send a few to Scotland Yard another day, and you can have a handwriting expert examine them.”

Rowan was silent for a few seconds before finally putting down the note, his tone becoming unusually serious: "Are you serious?"

Arthur wasn't joking: "I'm serious, sir. Nobody jokes about something like this. You can reserve your opinion, but this matter cannot be ignored. If the letter was indeed written by her and the recipient is Elphinstone, then we must find out just how far things have progressed between them."

“Victoria is only sixteen.” Rowan couldn’t help but mutter under his breath, “If this really gets out, Windsor Castle will explode, Parliament will be in an uproar, and Fleet Street will be partying all night long for months on end.”

“That’s right.” Arthur said calmly, “That’s why I came to you. If Princess Victoria, as the future monarch, were to develop a secret affair with the king’s personal attendant, regardless of whether the affair was pure or not, it would be a big news story no less significant than the birth of Princess Sofia’s illegitimate child. Moreover, we all know that Elfinstone’s family background, factional leanings, and his special position by the king’s side are enough to make anyone speculate about this relationship.”

Rowan said in a deep voice, "Hmm... Do you think it's possible that he's on the Duke of Cumberland's side? That he was deliberately sent to seduce the princess, causing her to lose her right to the throne, so that the Duke of Cumberland could ascend the throne smoothly?"

“I don’t have any evidence yet, but even if he’s not the Duke of Cumberland’s man, he’s definitely not a Peabody,” Arthur said slowly. “Moreover, more importantly, he’s still very young. He’s a strong, healthy Scottish nobleman in his twenties. We can’t put our hopes on him keeping his distance, especially considering that he’s facing a young princess who is in the prime of her youth, isolated and helpless, and yearning for understanding and dependence.”

Rowan tapped his teacup lightly, his face grim: "You want Scotland Yard to get involved?"

“It’s not about intervention; we don’t have that responsibility. So at most, we’re just guarding the gate,” Arthur said calmly. “As long as they haven’t crossed the line, we won’t do anything. But if we find that they have any tendency to cross the line, even if it’s just the slightest sign of a physical altercation, then we must intervene in time to prevent more serious consequences.”

"Hmm..." Rowan pondered for a while, "Does His Majesty the King know about this?"

“I don’t think so.” Arthur pointed to the note on the table and said, “These are all I have right now. I don’t want to be accused of false accusation before I find out if it’s Elphinstone.”

“You have a point. I’d forgotten about the investigation. Scotland Yard can’t wrong any innocent person, but it also can’t let any guilty person go free…” Rowan picked up the note and unfolded it in front of the lamp: “Alright, since you’ve put it this way, then you can focus on dealing with Conroy for now. As for the princess and Elphinstone, we’ll keep an eye on them for the time being.”

(End of this chapter)