shadow of britain

Chapter 844 Palmerston, you've finally met your match!

Fiona stood not far behind Arthur, holding the silver tray.

The firelight illuminated her face; her expression was serene, as if she were merely a dutiful mistress of the house.

Her gaze lingered for a moment between the officers on the table before settling on Arthur.

Everyone in the room sensed the subtle tension and resentment, but no one dared to say a word.

The officers either buried their heads in documents like ostriches or chuckled and fanned themselves with their helmets, exclaiming how brightly the fire in the room was burning.

Seeing that they didn't intend to speak up for her, Fiona gently put down the tray, gave everyone a proper curtsy, and took her leave, saying, "The tea and refreshments for the officers are ready. I won't disturb the rest of the meeting."

Although her words were respectful, she walked away faster than usual, making the atmosphere somewhat suffocating for a moment.

Tom opened his mouth to say something, but before he could speak, Tony stepped on his shoe again.

Tony raised an eyebrow and whispered, "Don't talk nonsense."

The flames flickered in the fireplace, illuminating the copper kettle and causing the condensation on the windowpane to roll down, as if even the rain outside was being urged to hurry on.

Arthur slowly took off his gloves, then casually tossed several documents from his leather bag onto the table.

He didn't sit down immediately, but instead picked up the schedule and addressed the officers: "Gentlemen, Her Highness's birthday celebration is no small tea party. I'm sure you've all seen parts of the leaked schedule in the newspapers these past few days, and I'm certain that on Her Highness's birthday, the major newspapers on Fleet Street will be providing full coverage, and the guest list will be meticulously reviewed by the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. Any mishaps would not only be an embarrassment for Kensington Palace, but also a disgrace to His Majesty the King and the government. Therefore, I expect the entire Police Intelligence Service to take this matter very seriously."

Arthur's words were not exactly a reprimand, but they were not exactly polite either. His tone was no different from when he usually chatted with the officers, but these light words made the officers present subconsciously straighten their backs.

Arthur glanced around before finally sitting down: "Now, let's start with the most boring part. But please note that boring doesn't mean risk-free. Precisely because it's mundane, it's often in these areas that people are most likely to take advantage."

Arthur paused here, raised his hand to signal Charles Field to begin the meeting, and then lit a cigarette for himself: "Charles, you report on the birthday party agenda."

Compared to facing pressure from Fiona, Field found it much easier to prepare reports and documents.

He tapped a few lines of text on the document with the tip of his pencil and reported loudly: "At six o'clock in the morning, the Royal Artillery will fire a salute in Hyde Park to celebrate. This will be followed by a small prayer service inside Kensington Palace, limited to the Duchess of Kent, her ladies-in-waiting, attendants, and bishops. From ten o'clock in the morning until noon, Her Highness the Princess will travel by carriage to St. James's Palace to receive formal congratulations from dignitaries, including the ministers of Prussia, France, Austria, and Russia, who are expected to attend. A concert is scheduled for the afternoon, and the ball and dinner will begin at eight o'clock in the evening."

Arthur flipped through the documents in his hand, exhaled a smoke ring, and said, "The guest list for the birthday party should have already been forwarded to Scotland Yard by the Foreign Office. Have you all completed the background checks on the visiting guests?"

Upon hearing this, Ridley quickly pulled out the background check report he had just completed before leaving get off work that day and slid it across the desk toward Arthur: "Sir, all the information you need is here. You should be particularly interested in the report on the Russian Minister, Earl Pozo di Borgo. He made him wait at the Foreign Ministry for two hours when he requested an audience with Foreign Minister Viscount Palmerston."

Arthur had originally planned to take the documents home to read, but after hearing Ridley's words, he immediately changed his mind.

He opened the brown paper bag and took out the documents, the first of which was Count Pozo di Borgo's report.

As you can tell from his name, Di Borgo, it's not a Russian surname.

Just like Disraeli's original surname, Disraeli Israel, people with the surname Disraeli are mostly of Italian descent.

This formula also applies to Pozo di Borgo.

However, although he is of Italian descent, whether his birthplace should be considered Italy or France is highly controversial.

Because according to historical origins and family lineage, he should be an Italian.

However, according to the current administrative divisions and his spiritual affiliation, he should belong to France.

Yes, he was a Corsican, and also Napoleon's fellow countryman and old enemy.

As for why this Italian-French man became Russia's ambassador to Britain, that's a very long story.

But ultimately, it all came down to the French Revolution.

Count Bozzo di Borgo had close ties with Napoleon and his brother Joseph Bonaparte in his early years. Both the di Borgo and Bonaparte families were influential in Corsica at the time, and the two families were close political allies.

In his youth, Pozzo went to Paris as one of two representatives from Corsica, demanding that the National Assembly annex Corsica to France. He later became Corsica's representative to the Paris Legislative Assembly and held a right-wing seat in the assembly until the August Revolution of 1792.

However, when the Jacobin-led National Assembly stormed the Tuileries Palace and deposed Louis XVI, Pozzo not only refused to obey the National Assembly's summons, but also fled Paris overnight and returned to Corsica, completely breaking with the Bonaparte family, who supported the Jacobins.

Following this, Pozzo, in alliance with Corsican military leader Pasquale Paoli, declared Corsica's independence, establishing the Kingdom of British Corsica with British assistance, and becoming its prime minister. However, when Napoleon occupied Corsica, Pozzo, due to his poor relationship with Napoleon, was excluded from the amnesty list and forced to flee to Rome for refuge.

However, the French authorities demanded that Rome expel Pozzo and ordered his arrest in northern Italy.

Under Napoleon's ruthless retaliation, Pozzo was forced to leave Rome and seek political asylum in London.

In London, he met an old friend, Gilbert Elliott, the first Earl of Minto, who was the former Governor of the British Kingdom of Corsica.

With the help of an old friend, Pozzo accompanied Count Minto on his diplomatic mission to Vienna, where he lived for six years and was treated with great courtesy by Austrian political figures such as Metternich. However, due to Austria's successive defeats in the war against France, Metternich had to subtly advise his old friend Pozzo that it was no longer safe to remain in Vienna, as Napoleon might request his extradition at any time.

Thus, Pozo began his exile again, and was eventually introduced to Tsar Alexander I by Russian Foreign Minister Prince Adam Czartoreski (now the leader of the Polish exiles).

Perhaps it was because of his turbulent life that Bozzo harbored such deep hatred for the Bonaparte family.

For the next decade, he remained one of the most steadfast opponents of Napoleon in Russian politics. In order to defeat Napoleon, he represented the Russian government on missions to Prussia, Austria, the Ottoman Empire, and Great Britain, doing his utmost to forge an anti-French alliance.

Because Britain played an indispensable role in the anti-French coalition, Pozzo naturally spent the longest time in London.

As Pozzo spent more time in London, his handsome appearance and extraordinary demeanor inevitably led him to develop romantic entanglements with the ladies of high society.

Portrait of Count Pozo di Borgo, painted by Russian artist Karl Pavlovich Bryullov in 1833.

As for who Pozo's lover was...

Incidentally, his mistress also had connections with the Viscount of Melbourne and the Viscount of Palmerston.

Yes, Pozzo's lover was none other than the sister of the Viscount of Melbourne, and now the lover of the Viscount of Palmerston—Lady Emily Cowper.

Furthermore, there have been persistent rumors that Pozzo may be the father of one of Mrs. Cowper's children.

Of course, rumors are just rumors, and only the parties involved know whether they are true or not.

However, after Ridley’s meticulous investigation and analysis, and after verifying the dates of Pozzo’s stay in London and the birth date of Mrs. Cowper’s eldest daughter, Miss Emily Cowper, the head of the Fifth Bureau of Police Intelligence, he became highly suspicious that Miss Cowper was very likely Pozzo’s child.

Of course, he couldn't rule out the possibility that Miss Cowper's biological father was Viscount Palmerston. After all, Miss Cowper looked quite different from her nominal father, Earl Cowper.

"Miss Emily Cowper as a Child" painted by English artist Thomas Lawrence in 1813.

"Peter Leopold Nassau Cowper, the Fifth Earl of Cowper" painted by English painter John Hopner in 1786.

Henry John Temple, the Third Viscount Palmerston, painted by English painter Thomas Heffer in 1802.

Of course, regardless of who Miss Cowper's biological father was, given her mother's romantic history, it's not hard to understand why Palmerston made him wait outside the diplomatic corps for two hours when the Russian minister, Pozzo, requested an audience. While, from a foreign policy perspective, Pozzo, out of affection for his homeland France, often sided with Russia and spoke in favor of the July Monarchy, frequently leading his Russian colleagues to suspect him of collusion with France, Pozzo's bias towards France naturally incurred the displeasure of Palmerston, who pursued an anti-French policy.

But even setting aside that relationship, the fact that Pozzo had been "frank" with Mrs. Cowper was enough to disgust Palmerston.

It's well known that a certain prominent figure at Scotland Yard is notoriously petty, but he felt it was his turn to speak up: while he had always respected the Viscount Palmerston, the Viscount had indeed acted far too stingy in this matter. How could the Foreign Secretary allow the Russian Minister to be made to stand outside the Foreign Office as punishment? That was utterly unprofessional.

Arthur finished reading the background investigation report on Pozo with great satisfaction, and suddenly felt that the whole world had become a better place.

He slowly closed the file, his fingertips lightly tapping the table, as if savoring the aftertaste of fine red wine as it slid down his throat.

Everyone in the room could tell that he was in a good mood. In such terrible weather, materials that could bring a smile to Sir Arthur's face were often not only valuable, but also "specially supplied" products with ulterior motives.

He neatly put the documents into a file bag, seemingly intending to take them home and study them carefully that evening.

Finally, he took a sip of his black tea and said, "Rydley, regarding this material, all I can say is..."

Ridley leaned forward, listening attentively.

Arthur snapped his fingers: “Excellent. It’s clear you’ve put a lot of effort into your work in the Fifth Division.”

Ridley was flattered and quickly stood up: "It is my honor to receive your praise."

Arthur gestured for him to sit down, then said slowly, "I know that some colleagues at Scotland Yard have made mistakes and gone astray..."

Upon hearing this, Jones bowed his head slightly and sat up straight.

“But…” Arthur said loudly, “No one in this world is perfect. Everyone makes mistakes, but we should give them a chance to correct them. Don’t you agree, Thomas?”

Plunkett was suddenly called out by Arthur. Faced with Arthur's questioning, how could this loyal tiger of the police intelligence agency utter a single word of refusal?

"Of course, Sir, you are right."

Arthur nodded slightly: "You should know that I have always despised the methods used by the Ministry of Internal Affairs to check and balance each other. Those are the kinds of underhanded and shady tactics that only despicable people would use. I don't know what others think, but I personally appreciate a truly harmonious and cooperative relationship with a shared goal."

After speaking, his gaze shifted and landed on Ridley.

“Redley, you’ve done a great job over the years. I’ve seen everything you’ve done. While the Fifth Division isn’t as glamorous as field operations, I’ve read every single one of your reports. They contain not only intelligence but also judgment. You’re not the kind of rigid, old-fashioned person who does things in a rigid, step-by-step manner. You have the ability to think proactively, a keen sense of how things are going, and the ability to adapt to changing circumstances. That’s what I admire about you.”

At this point, Arthur slowed his speech, his fingers gliding slowly across the schedule on the table: "So, the security coordination for Her Highness's birthday party will naturally be handled by Charles and Thomas. But for the on-site security command, I'd like to recommend you to the higher-ups."

As soon as Arthur finished speaking, the conference room fell into complete silence.

Ridley was visibly taken aback by what he heard. He froze on the spot, so much so that he forgot to get up and reply.

He originally thought that he would be grateful if he could win Arthur's favor with this document, and as for security work, he would at most do some thankless behind-the-scenes work.

Who could have predicted that Arthur would not only fail to claim the most prestigious and glamorous opportunity for himself, but would instead hand it over to the traitor himself?

That is...

Security for Princess Victoria's birthday.

It was neither a royal procession in the usual sense, nor a regular banquet security operation.

That was Her Highness Victoria's last major public appearance before she came of age.

Politicians, media, royalty, foreign dignitaries...

All eyes will be on this day.

Happiness came so suddenly that Ridley felt dizzy.

His brain seemed to freeze briefly; he could hear his heart pounding against his eardrums, as if it were about to burst out of his throat.

Seeing his expression, Arthur casually picked up his teacup and said, "If you feel you are not up to the task, you can bring it up now."

Upon hearing this, Ridley reflexively sprang up from his chair, nearly tripping over the corner of the table. Fortunately, the movement was minor, and his teacup only wobbled slightly.

"Sir..." Ridley's voice was hoarse, as if he had eaten two pounds of salted fish: "Your subordinate... will obey your orders, and the Fifth Division will certainly live up to your expectations!"

Arthur nodded slightly, subtly observing the other's excitement without revealing it: "Alright. But I'm warning you, this isn't a job to gild your resume. On the day of the birthday party, even if someone stands in the wrong place, the reporters on Fleet Street can make up a story for you. If something like that happens..."

Ridley straightened his back, raised his head, and saluted, saying, "Then I'll go and put the resignation letter on Director Rowan's desk myself."

Upon hearing this, Plunkett knew there was no point in arguing further, so he said obediently, "Everyone knows I have a foul mouth. However, since Sir Arthur has spoken and wants you to take charge on this occasion, then we will obey orders without question. On the day of the birthday party, even if Charles and I are there, we will still be at your command."

Inside the meeting room, the tense atmosphere finally began to relax.

Arthur smiled, stood up, and patted his two subordinates on the shoulder: "I'm relieved that you have this determination."

With the issue of who was in charge resolved, the next few topics became insignificant.

Issues such as whether the Hyde Park cannon salute needs to be closed for testing in advance, the Ministry of Foreign Affairs' desire to arrange exclusive entry routes for foreign envoys, and the need to prevent reporters and unauthorized personnel from sneaking into the banquet venue—these procedural matters, though troublesome, are generally well-prepared within the Police Intelligence Bureau, and are familiar to the officers present.

Everyone began to resume their usual work rhythm, taking notes, dividing tasks, and exchanging views.

The meeting finally came to an end as night deepened and the fire in the stove gradually dimmed.

Arthur stretched out his arm and stubbed out his cigarette in the porcelain ashtray.

He got up, put on his coat, and seemed to be preparing to leave.

Just then, a slightly clumsy but hesitant hand patted his shoulder.

“Arthur…” Tom’s voice was low, as if he didn’t want others to hear: “Could I have a few minutes of your time? I’d like to talk to you privately about something.”

Arthur smiled and raised an eyebrow: "We're all old friends, why be so polite? Is it about your two boys? I remember Allen said he wanted to join Scotland Yard?"

"There's no rush. His ideas change every day. It's not too late to wait until he finishes college."

Tom led Arthur to the French windows by the door. The rain outside had stopped, but the fog had not yet dissipated. The glass reflected the dim candlelight and the two figures.

He coughed somewhat awkwardly and said in a low voice, "Before the meeting today, did you know that Miss Ivan had been waiting for you upstairs for almost an hour?"

(End of this chapter)