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The Sharpe Fan Fictions of Paul K.

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Bernard Cornwell’s

SHARPE’S banquet

Richard Sharpe and the
Waterloo Banquet


Novel by Paul Kaster

1822 June

Chapter 2
London



Sir Alan Lewrie, Baronet, sat in his parlor.

“Should I go to the Madeira Club, for dinner, dear?”

“We could dine together at the DOLLY’S CHOP HOUSE (Lewrie’s favorite restaurant at the Strand’s Savoy Street). After you can meet with your friends at the Club. I can go to Almack’s to play whist. After, we can meet here.” Anne said.

“That sounds excellent, my dear. When we return, we can compare the gossip that we have heard, eh?”

“Oh yes, I am sure that there will be new gossip. The word is spreading about The Duke’s party. He may even play cards at Almack’s tonight.”

“And, shy woman that you are, you would never ask him about the party, eh?”

He and Lady Anne Camoynes have shared his residence at 22 Dover St. for a few years. After his second wife had died giving birth in 1810, Lewrie had gone back to sea to serve with Admiral Sir ??? off Spain to support Wellington’s forces. When Napoleon abdicated in 1814, he returned to England to payoff his ship. He was barely back when he was recalled to help to carry the British forces to fight Napoleon who had returned to France.

Waterloo ended Napoleon’s return. With the war over, the Admiralty reduced the numbers of ships, admirals, captains and crews. Lewrie’s ship was selected to be stored in ordinary. He would be “on the beach” on half pay.

“Fortunately both my boys still have ships. I don’t mind being ashore. Being aboard ship has lost its attraction. Few enemies to face anymore.”

“Chop house dinner, clubs then return here. Since I don’t fathom the card game, I will wish you luck and poor opponents.”

“And, I wish you a comfortable chair and robust conversation while you enjoy your American whiskey.” Anne smiles. Lewrie learned to drink American corn whiskey many years before. He keeps an ample supply here as well as private bottles at his club.

“Enjoy the tea at your club. I’ll have a glass of whiskey waiting for you when you return. Unless you prefer more tea, but over ice.”

“Whiskey will do, dear. Tea before bed could mean that neither of us gets to sleep before dawn.” She smiles teasingly at him and winks.

“Hmmm, such a choice for me. You are a devil, Anne.”


Lewrie enjoyed dinner with Anne. When they finished the meal, He arranged for a carriage to take her to her club and then to his club. Towards midnight, he returned home. Anne had preceded him and had removed her dinner clothes and dressed to sit at home.

“Welcome home, dear. Your whiskey and chair await.”

“You know me well, Anne, dear.”

Lewrie removed his coat and rolled up his shirt sleeves. He sat in his chair, grasped his whiskey glass and slowly sipped the golden liquid.

“Ah, chilled. Sadly the club does not have ice. Neat at room temperature is satisfying. But, this whiskey is best when cold.” He sips again.

Shortly, his cat hops into his lap. “There you are, puss.”

“She’s been pacing impatiently for you to return.”

Lewrie pets the cat as he sips.



“So, tell me how the card playing went, my dear.”

“The club manager knows that I share my winnings well with him. So, he selects less capable players to join my table. My partner played well and drew so fortuitous cards. My share of the winnings was £70. That was after I gave the manager £10 for my tea and cakes expenses and his largesse to select the players.”

“The man will become wealthy on his share of your winnings, I swear.”

“Only if I continue to win.”

“My dear, your opponents at the card table have as much chance of success as the French have had against our Navy. The Navy lost a few, but won many more times than not. And, we won all the big contests.”

“Yes, dear. And I am grateful that you used your skill and luck to battle and left cards to me.” She raises her glass to him.

“Yes, yes. Now what good gossip did you learn?”

Anne shared details of some of the romances and comings and goings of some of London’s notable people.

“When talk turned to Wellington’s coming party, they say that the attendees will be only men and only those that served with the Duke at Waterloo. Of course, our King will attend, too.”

“On that, your friend Lawford was at my club. He is NOT invited. Didn’t fight at Waterloo. Retired to government service by then. But, he was asked by the Duke to influence a friend of his and yours to attend.”

“A friend of his and mine. You know, don’t you?”

“Yes, a Richard Sharpe.”

“Richard Sharpe?”

Anne pauses. She has not seen Sharpe for eight years. That last time she had helped him to foil engine breakers and thieves in Yorkshire. Sharpe had been one of her lovers. Although she still thinks of him, he and she would not have succeeded. Alan and she are much more alike and fit well together. But, Richard Sharpe is a memorable man. Now, she thinks of him more as a younger brother.

“Richard Sharpe will attend? This party must be very special. Sharpe does all that he can to avoid the world of English gentlemen.”

“Lawford says that he sent a note in addition to the Duke’s invitation. Richard Sharpe responded that he will attend. He will arrive at Nerot’s Hotel about June 13th.”

Lewrie added, “Lawford told me that he met Sharpe in India. They were imprisoned together. He taught Sharpe how to read. Sharpe saved them and Lawford’s uncle from certain death in the Tipoo Sultans dungeons. Lawford said that later, Sharpe saved Wellington’s life at Assaye. This Sharpe has fought on almost every field as Wellington and more.”

“He is an accomplished soldier.” Anne adds. She knows very well of Sharpe’s military exloits. She knows too of some of his darker deeds. “The last I knew of him, he is retired, a farmer and family man in France.”

“France?”

“Yes, France. He met a woman after she tried to kill him. She believed that Sharpe had killed her mother and her brother. Now, they live together and have children.” Anne pauses to sip some whiskey before continuing.

“It is a strange world. He is the bastard son of a London prostitute, an orphan, a thief, a killer, who is a famous soldier and who hates titled rich people. Yet, he lives with a woman who is a viscountess.” She makes a face as she contemplates the irony of Sharpe’s life. “And, he lives in France, a country that he fought against for almost twenty years.”

“Life can be very strange indeed.” Alan draws on his whiskey too.

“I should like to meet this Richard Sharpe. We can share some of our stories. I think I will like him. What say you, puss?” He looks at his cat for an answer.

“He will stay at your favored Nerot Hotel. I will send a card to the hotel for Sharpe to meet with us after he has arrived. Will that do?”

“Oh, and did I tell you that he served with The Rifles. Even as an officer, he carried a rifle and a big ugly cavalry sword instead of a sabre.” Anne adds.

“No. No, you did not say. A Rifle and a cavalry sword? I WILL like this Sharpe! We can discuss the differences of the Baker, Ferguson and Girandoni rifles.”

“Better that you discuss with him. They are all guns to me.”

She smiles alluringly and holds her empty glass to him. “Now, you need to get me more whiskey or prepare to be awake until dawn.”

“More whiskey tomorrow. To bed tonight.” He beams.

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