shadow of britain

Chapter 811 Mother and daughter break up
The morning sunlight slanted through the gaps in the velvet curtains, casting dappled light between the silverware and plates.

Arthur held the coffee cup in one hand and slowly stirred the still partially dissolved sugar cube in the cup with the other.

He didn't rush to drink his coffee, but instead slowly turned his gaze to Elder across the table.

The newly appointed Admiralty bureaucrat was wearing an unbuttoned morning robe, biting into a piece of bread smeared with jam, while holding a copy of the Manchester Guardian with its edges stained yellow with oil.

“As a Londoner, you read the Manchester Guardian instead of the Times,” Arthur joked. “Is there something about the Guardian that makes it better than the Times?”

Elder swallowed the bread in his mouth and pointed to the newspaper's sections with his finger: "To be fair, The Times is actually better than The Guardian, but unfortunately I want to read some reports about South America, and The Times isn't as timely in its coverage of South American news as The Guardian."

“South America?” Arthur took a sip of coffee. “Didn’t you swear that you never wanted to see the rainforests of South America again after you returned from your round-the-world trip?”

“I really don’t want to see the rainforests of South America.” Elder poured himself a cup of tea. “But that doesn’t stop me from being interested in certain people in South America. I still miss my gaucho friends there, and I’m waiting to see when The Guardian will publish the obituary of the Argentine butcher Rosas.”

"Is there any related report in today's newspaper?"

“No, God really is blind. That Argentine executioner certainly lived a long life.” Elder folded the newspaper and pushed it in front of Arthur. “But today’s South American news isn’t all bad. Look at this: the Panathinaikos War, Rio Grande declared independence from Brazil and established the Pilatini Republic. Heh, the Portuguese civil war just ended, and now the Brazilian civil war has started. The Braganza family isn’t having much luck.”

“Rio Grande? A republic?” Arthur felt uneasy as soon as he heard the name and the political system. He looked down at the newspaper and sure enough, he found a familiar name on the page—Giuseppe Garibaldi.

Rio Grande secedes from the Brazilian Empire and establishes itself as the Republic of Pilatini.

According to reports from Rio de Janeiro, due to dissatisfaction with Brazil's long-standing policy of low tariffs on imported meat products, a rebellion has broken out in Rio Grande, a southern agricultural province, led by General Bento Gonçalves, and is demanding the establishment of a republic.

On the evening of September 18, under the secret organization of General Bento Gonçalves, the insurgents quickly assembled in the town of White Rock, and a cavalry force of about 200 men, led by Colonel Gomez Jardine and Colonel Honoré Pires, also arrived from the Viamont region. The insurgents joined forces and entered Azenia on the 19th.

On September 19, Antonio Braga, the president of Rio Grande province, realized that a rebellion was imminent and immediately issued a mobilization order for the National Guard cavalry company. Due to the weak troop strength in the capital, Porto Alegre, he also called on all citizens to assemble armed forces, eventually gathering a force of approximately 270 men.

That evening, a cavalry reconnaissance squad led by Major Balbuda of the government forces was ambushed by insurgents near the Azenia Bridge. Although Major Balbuda attempted to organize a defense, the insurgents' superior firepower quickly gained the upper hand under the cover of darkness and dense fog. The battle lasted less than half an hour, and the government cavalry was routed. The major himself was shot, fell from his horse, and was forced to abandon his weapon and flee. The Azenia Bridge thus fell into the hands of the insurgents, becoming a crucial passage to the provincial capital.

At dawn on September 20, General Gonçalves ordered his troops to advance on Porto Alegre in three columns. Colonel Gomez Jardim led the first cavalry unit to outflank the Fishermen's Quarter through the west gate, while Major Honoré Pires led the infantry to advance steadily through the main gate. General Gonçalves personally led a cavalry unit along the lakeside avenue into the city.

Meanwhile, Navy Lieutenant Giuseppe Garibaldi commanded the gunboat "Mazzini" to emerge from the fog in the northern branch of Guaida Lake and head straight for the southern shore of Porto Alegre.

Due to insufficient numbers and disorganized forces in the provincial capital, coupled with the psychological turmoil caused by the previous night's defeat, the insurgents occupied the city with almost no real resistance. At approximately 9:00 AM, Provincial Governor Braga abandoned the government building and withdrew from the mouth of Lake Guaíba aboard the speedboat "Rio Grande." Upon entering the city hall, the insurgents immediately raised the Rio Grande revolutionary flag and announced the abolition of the imperially appointed provincial civil service.

That afternoon, the interim council held a closed-door meeting at the city hall, announcing that Rio Grande had broken away from the rule of the Brazilian Empire and established itself as the Republic of Pilatini, and elected General Bento Gonçalves as interim governor.

……

Looking at the black and white words on the newspaper, Arthur couldn't help but slap his forehead: "Giuseppe... he actually succeeded... thank goodness Rio Grande isn't Genoa..."

Elder reached into the basket, took an egg, and tapped it lightly on the corner of the table. "What? You have friends in South America?"

“Friends? Giuseppe Garibaldi and I, I suppose we could be considered friends…” Arthur held his coffee cup with a strange expression. “Two years ago, when I first met him, he was just an ordinary Italian sailor, a bit naive-looking, with a cheerful personality. Back then… well… he had just participated in the revolution spearheaded by Young Italy, full of fervor, wanting to tear the flag of the Kingdom of Sardinia down from the skies of northern Italy… In the end, the uprising failed, and he was sentenced to death…”

“Death penalty?” Elder paused in his egg-peeling motion. “You’re saying this guy was sentenced to death? Then how come he’s still alive and kicking, wielding influence in South America?”

“That’s easy, he just ran away.” Arthur took a sip of coffee. “The smuggling ship carried him from Hamburg, around Gibraltar, and then all the way south to Rio.”

Elder chewed on his egg, seemingly lost in thought, and said, "Hmm... how do you know all this so clearly?"

Arthur put down his cup and replied indifferently, "Eld, a diplomat's job is very varied, just like being a tutor at Kensington Palace."

Upon hearing the name Kensington Palace, Elder immediately forgot about the South American situation: "Speaking of which, how's the situation at the palace? It's all over the place, shouldn't they come out and say something?"

Arthur glanced at Elder: "Do I need to respond? Haven't you noticed I haven't been to Kensington Palace for two weeks?"

……

In the west corridor of Kensington Palace, the slanting winter sun cast dappled shadows through the windows, illuminating the trembling figures of the maids as they retreated.

The door clicked shut.

The Duchess of Kent stood before the fireplace, her posture ramrod straight, her lips pursed. Her hands, though gloved, were clenched tightly, as if she wanted to crush something to pieces.

"Do you want to destroy everything you have?" Her voice trembled slightly, but her tone was as cold as the wind in St. Petersburg: "Delina, I couldn't believe it before, but now I'm sure. Yesterday, I saw him staring at you for a full five minutes in the chapel of St. James's Palace. You think you can hide it? You think I won't notice!"

Victoria stood motionless by the window, as if the last rays of the winter sun gave her a sliver of courage. Her fingertips lightly brushed the gray rose on her coat cuff, and she whispered, "Mom...Mom, I...I didn't mean it...He just happened to be there...I didn't say anything to him, just exchanged a few pleasantries..." She turned around, softening her tone as much as possible, even with a hint of coquettish probing, "Please don't be angry...It really was just a brief encounter. And it was in the church."

"Polite greetings?" The Duchess sneered, her voice already radiating barely contained anger. "Do you think I'm a fool? His sketchbook is full of drawings of you, and you want me to believe it was just a coincidence?"

“Mother, he… he was just painting,” Victoria tried to explain. “I don’t think there’s anything shameful about it. He’s an educated gentleman…”

"He's a cunning adventurer!" the Duchess interrupted sharply. "You're still a child; you don't understand how a man like that gets close to you! A truly educated gentleman should be like Sir Arthur Hastings, keeping his eyes straight ahead and acting with composure—that's what a decent person should be like! Elphinstone is watching your every move, and you think it's romantic? It's dangerous, it's despicable, it's..."

“Please don’t say that about him!” Victoria’s eyes reddened instantly, and her long-suppressed emotions burst forth: “He is a nobleman! A brave and cultured nobleman, and he has just received the Royal Order of Guelph and is a member of the Privy Council. He has never done anything disrespectful to me. He respects me and cares about me. He respects me far more than Sir John Conroy has ever done!”

The moment those words were spoken, the air seemed to freeze.

The Duchess of Kent's face immediately darkened: "What did you say?"

“I said!” Victoria’s eyes were red, but she still raised her head: “He never interfered with me, controlled me, or intimidated me… unlike, unlike Conroy! I like John, I like John Elfenstone. He is not a despicable, shameless little man like John Conroy. He is a dignified Scottish man, an indomitable Scottish Highland nobleman!”

"Shut up!" the Duchess roared, almost losing her usual composure. "How dare you compare him to Conroy?! Conroy is your father's appointed guardian of the household, a friend I trust, and..."

"Is he the person you trust most?" Victoria interrupted her mother, her attitude unyielding. "Or is he the person you can't live without?"

A look of near-humiliation and astonishment crossed the Duchess's face. She paused for a moment, then abruptly pointed at her daughter, barely able to speak: "You...you're insane...Delina, how dare you speak to me like that?"

“I’m just telling the truth,” Victoria said through gritted teeth. “I don’t want to be manipulated by him anymore, and I don’t want to see you treat me like this because of him.”

"He did it for your own good! He's sacrificed so much for this family! I can tolerate your willfulness, but I can't tolerate your rudeness, arrogance, and ingratitude! You actually insulted Conroy for an outsider, a Scottish nobleman you've only met a few times?!"

The Duchess's voice was almost shrill, her face drained of all color: "Do you know how he took care of you? From the day your father passed away, who has been supporting this family for us? Who has been watching over you day and night when you coughed and had a fever, shielding you from rumors, raising funds, and protecting your reputation? It was Conroy! He is loyal, humble, and talented; he is the pillar of our family, and you, you actually compared him to that pretty boy who drew your sketches!"

Victoria's lower lip, which had been tightly clenched, relaxed slightly at this moment: "If he is really so selfless, then why does he control my servants, interfere with my classes, arrange my visits, and even approve what soup I drink and what dress I wear?"

"He did it all for you!" the Duchess roared again. "He was afraid you'd be used and hurt! You! You spoiled brat! You don't even know who's protecting you!"

“Yes, I don’t know.” Victoria’s voice began to tremble. “I don’t know why he keeps an eye on me like I’m some property, some merchandise waiting to be sold. I don’t know why you have to listen to him in everything. I don’t know why I have to be grateful to someone…someone who uses me as a bargaining chip.”

The Duchess took a step back and pointed at Victoria. "Who, who taught you these words? Elphinstone? You're completely misled by that Elphinstone. You're no longer the obedient child, Delina. Now you're even starting to doubt me... even Conroy?"

Victoria stood there, silent for a moment, her head bowed and tears streaming down her face: "I don't need anyone to teach me to doubt. You're the one who made me doubt, Mother. You're the one who showed me."

"What?" The Duchess was stunned, her usually held-high chin drooping slightly. "What do you mean by this?"

“I watch you every day.” Victoria’s speech quickened, her emotions rising. “Watching you listen to him, depend on him, and hide behind him to avoid all trouble. He’s always by your side, keeping you company in the study at night, and barging into the living room during the day for various reasons, interfering with what I should say and what I should think.”

Victoria paused, finally squeezing out the heaviest part of her chest: "You do whatever Conroy tells you to do. You obey his orders to not see me. He suspected Mrs. Spass, so you sent her away. Now he suspects Lyzen, and you're planning to fire Lyzen too. You say I'm willful, that I don't know what's good for me, that I'm a spoiled brat. But let me tell you, I'm the one who's truly deprived of choices! I've never had a choice about where I live, what I wear, who I talk to, who I smile at, or even... even liking someone is treated as a crime by you!"

"Enough!" the Duchess screamed incoherently.

The room was quiet for a few seconds, with only the faint popping of the flames remaining.

“You’ve changed,” the Duchess of Kent said in a hoarse voice. “You’re not my Delina anymore. You’ve been completely corrupted by Elphinstone.”

Victoria retorted through tears, "It's not that he corrupted me! It's that you've never truly known me!"

Without waiting for her mother's response, she turned and headed for the door.

"Stop right there!" The Duchess reacted almost instinctively, pointing sharply at the door and shouting, "You go back to your room right now! From this day forward, you are not to step out of your room again!"

Victoria stopped in her tracks, her back to her, without turning around.

"You are confined to your quarters," the Duchess said, enunciating each word clearly, "until you understand who you are, who you should love, and who you shouldn't love!"

Victoria did not argue further, nor did she continue to cry.

She simply nodded and whispered at the door, "I understand perfectly well, Mom. It's just that you never want to admit it."

(End of this chapter)