“Oh, I don’t know about that, sir. You may well have come across him. He’s the sort of fellow you would never notice if you did see him and would forget inside the next five minutes.”
Erskine was entertained.
“Heard something like that before, you know. In the wardroom of the old King George battleship, when I was a very green lieutenant, someone said of the Commander – ‘some men are never noticed in a crowd, but one doesn’t see him on his own’, ha ha!”
Magnus had heard the witticism before, repeatedly, but joined Erskine in his laughter.
Next day brought Magnus an invitation to dine at the Blantyres, which he accepted instantly, and a note off the latest fast passenger liner on the run to San Francisco, written by Cecil, the senior man to whom Magnus sent his regular but unofficial reports on the doings of the China Station.
‘Please to come aboard at your earliest convenience. Cecil. Sailing at three o’clock.’
It was not the most informative of missives; Magnus glanced at the clock and responded immediately, walking along the Bund to the big ship’s mooring.
“Good of you to come, Lord Magnus. Not the best of news but you need to know it. Off the wires to the Legation in Peking. You have heard of the scandal breaking in London? The damned fool involved is your brother, Lord Eskdale.”
Magnus swore, very silently; this was social disaster. He tried to muster a calm face and quietly upset response.
“I wondered, Mr Cecil… I have always had doubts about his little habits, you know. There was just the odd word said by men who knew him at school… Of course, he is just the sort of idiot to get caught! He had a very sensible marriage lined up, or so I heard.”
“Gone, Lord Magnus. And so is he.”
“What, not dead?”
“Probably, I would think. He stood down from the House of Commons - took the Chiltern Hundreds five days ago and has not been seen since. Not at the house he had rented in Town. The last telegram said that the police could not locate him when they sought to execute a warrant. Not at the family home in Scotland. Unknown elsewhere, at the country places of his acquaintance. Not thought to have boarded a ferry from Dover. No great withdrawal from his bank, no friend admitting to making him a loan he could have escaped with. The Earl has disowned him and has withdrawn from Court. It seems very likely that you may be the heir to your father’s honours, Lord Magnus.”
“And to my brother’s scandal, sir. Will I be forced to send my papers in?”
Mr Cecil thought not.
“One advantage to your own notoriety, Lord Magnus, is that there will be no suggestion that you could share your brother’s habits! Certainly, if you were posted to Portsmouth or Chatham, you would find the degree of public interest hard to bear. It is the case, however, as the old saying has it, that ‘out of sight is out of mind’. Five years from now and you will return to England and be no more than the unfortunate young gentleman who was so embarrassed by his discreditable brother. You have your medal, which helps, and will have the opportunity to distinguish yourself again, no doubt. For the while, you must smile nobly and shake your head in incomprehension – you cannot imagine why some men perform such strange acts.”
“Actually, sir, that is perfectly true. I cannot understand just what the attraction is. I am to dine with the Blantyre family tomorrow, sir. I suspect that will not be an easy dinner.”
Mr Cecil commiserated, but pointed out that the heir to an earldom might be regarded as a far greater prize than a dashing younger son.
“Blantyre himself will no doubt be shocked, Lord Magnus. If I might advise you, he will be no more horrified than you. He may well not have heard the scandal – he is not a man for Society gossip, I suspect. No doubt you will speak to him over the port.”
Miss Blantyre welcomed Magnus, somewhat uneasily for gathering that something was wrong in the background but having been given no indication of what. She smiled her best as her father greeted Magnus heavily, shaking his head as he took his hand.
“A bad business, Lord Magnus, but no affair of yours, ten thousand miles distant as you are. You have met, Mrs Pettigrew, my daughter’s companion, aboard ship, I believe…”
It was a family dinner party, no outsiders present, the initial intention having been to make it easier for Magnus to declare himself, no doubt.
They ate uninspired English food and managed to keep polite conversation until the ladies withdrew.
Blantyre did his best to be the good host, finally allowed the pretence that all was well to drop.
“Can’t keep a good glass of port out here, you know, Lord Magnus. We must make do with what we have.” He swigged off his glass and shook his head, his demeanour suddenly sombre. “You have had word from London, I presume, my lord?”
Magnus showed rueful, attempting an expression of honest candour.
“Not in an official communication addressed to myself, no sir. And I very much wish I had. I have been left in the dark, officially. But, Mr Cecil of the Foreign Office called me to him yesterday, immediately before he sailed. You will know him to be a very senior gentleman, out here to lead discussions with the Empress.”
Mr Blantyre did not know Mr Cecil, had never met him, but he was aware of his mission, and of its almost complete failure in tying the Empress down to any course of modernisation in the government of China.
“He told me the little he knew. Briefly, sir, it seems that my brother has been caught up in the most vicious wrongdoing and is certainly culpable – no innocent bystander he! Not like the case of Lord Euston a few years ago. I cannot understand such behaviour, sir; nor can I condone it. He has relinquished his seat in the Commons and apparently disappeared from sight – with no money in his pockets. The implication is that he will be fished out of the Thames at any time. He will at least have avoided the final disgrace of a criminal trial. My father is much distressed from all I hear and has withdrawn from the Court. I fear for the poor old gentleman, sir. He is not the sort to comprehend or condone such behaviour and will be hard hit by such conduct in his heir.”
“That is understandable, Lord Magnus. Should I more properly call you Lord Eskdale now, my lord?”
Magnus made a play of not having considered that he was now in all probabilities the heir to the earldom.
“No, sir, certainly not! Not until I know more of my poor brother. You know, sir, despite his conduct, and his acknowledgement of his great sin, he is yet my brother, the boy of my childhood.”
Mr Blantyre was much moved by Magnus’ manly statement.
Magnus admired his own hypocrisy – he was proud of that fabrication, but, after all, ‘of the dead, let nothing but good be said’. He made a play of squaring his shoulders, of entering upon the most embarrassing, humiliating, of personal business.
“Mr Blantyre, it was my intention, as I suspect you have guessed, to ask for your daughter’s hand in marriage this evening. I have not spoken to her, sir, though I suspect my hopes were sufficiently clear to her. That must now be impossible, sir. My family’s name must be tarnished beyond redemption by this disgraceful affair and I cannot in all decency offer myself to any lady’s attention. With your permission, sir, I will withdraw from your house now.”
Magnus made to stand, was waved back into his chair, unsure whether he might have preferred to be sent on his way or begged to stay.
“With respect, Lord Magnus, you are making too much of a bad business. No fault can be attributed to you in this shocking example of depravity. I have no doubt that we can see the influence of the Prince of Wales, of the degradation he has introduced into Society, in the whole disgraceful example of gross misconduct by one of those who should know better.” Blantyre was Low Church, one of the many among businessmen who had little other than contempt for the grossly self-indulgent and less clever than he thought he was Prince.
“But, sir, you are far distant from the affair, are serving in Her Majesty’s Navy and have won recognition of your martial distinction. You a
re not to be tarred with your disgraceful brother’s brush, sir. My daughter would welcome your proposal, that I do not doubt, and that is no small factor in my favour for you; but as well, sir, I believe you will be a valuable presence in the family. Add to that, to be blunt, I would have welcomed my daughter being called ‘Lady Magnus’; that she will probably become Lady Eskdale and eventually Countess can only be another and even more welcome gain from the marriage. In effect, a grandson of mine would become an earl in the peerage of Great Britain, and that is by any definition a fine thing. Such being the case, Lord Magnus, I will offer a father’s blessing to you. My sole proviso would be a delay of a month in making the public announcement – let the initial gossip die down, sir. I will be happy for you to speak to Ellen tonight and to purchase a ring for her in four weeks.”
“You are generous, sir, far more so than most would be in your situation.”
Blantyre was a hard-headed businessman, and few had ever called him ‘generous’ before; quite a number of other names, but not that one. He preened, almost swaggered in his chair.
“I believe, Lord Magnus, that I am merely acting as a Christian gentleman should. A word before we join the ladies, sir. Obviously, you will know nothing of your financial affairs just at the moment. Presumably the heir has an income settled to him, but you will not know what as yet. I will risk being offensive when I say that I much suspect that income to be small – I am afraid that your father’s financial difficulties are a matter of public knowledge.”
Magnus achieved a candid smile.
“You must be correct, sir. I live on my income as a naval officer, sir. Not an easy trick, but it may be done by a man who does not gamble and who drinks sparingly.”
Blantyre approved of such a way of life. It was, in fact, his own, for he was naturally austere in his conduct, other than keeping a pair of mistresses in their own discreet quarters a few hundred yards distant from the Blantyre House. The girls were kept for the sake of his health as a widower, he told himself, were in no way a sign of depravity. He expressed his surprise to Magnus.
“Then, sir, to again be obtrusively blunt, you are not in debt?”
“To the best of my knowledge and belief, Mr Blantyre, I left England owing no man a penny. I have no accounts outstanding in Hong Kong.”
“Then my respect for you is the greater, Lord Magnus. I had intended, I will freely admit, to offer to clear your debts on your marriage. I will as well, sir, promise your lady an income that will cover the household and provide for children in the event of your early death – a naval officer may face action on any day, as goes without saying. Ellen will be my heir, as you know, a large sum to be held in trust to her and her offspring, in normal fashion. I would ask you to accept an income of two thousand pounds per annum – not because I believe you to be a spendthrift but to meet the obligations that will be placed upon you. Married into the Blantyres, you will be expected to entertain, sir. When you become post captain, which will come within a decade or so, one must imagine, you will have greater obligations, as you will be aware. As admiral and earl, then your expenses will become greater yet.”
Magnus bowed in his seat.
“Your generosity is overwhelming, sir. I could not keep my wife in the comfort she deserves on my naval income. I will not insult you with protestations of virtue, sir, but it is my determination that your daughter shall not regret becoming my wife. Of course, I have yet to ask her – you never know, sir, she might refuse me. She is a good girl and might be so appalled by my brother’s misconduct as to have no wish to become part of my family.”
Mr Blantyre doubted that was likely but suggested they should join the ladies so that he might discover the truth for himself.
They followed the sound of music along the corridor and came to the drawing room where Mrs Pettigrew was achieving some success in playing a sonata by Xaver Scharwenka, one of the newer German composers. Magnus did not recognise the piece, which led to an easy conversation for a few minutes before Blantyre suggested that she should leave the room with him, Lord Magnus wishing perhaps to speak to Miss Blantyre.
Miss Blantyre showed bright scarlet, wishing perhaps for a little more subtlety in her father. Magnus started to chuckle.
“Well, ma’am, that may be said to have broken the ice, if such there was between us.”
She managed a smile.
“This is not how I wished to approach you, Miss Blantyre. I had hoped very simply to lay my heart at your feet and beg you to accept my hand in marriage. I must, however, first suggest to you reasons why you might feel well advised not to accept me. Not for the lack of desire for you to do so, but because of the circumstances suddenly upon me.”
She did not understand but was not unintelligent.
“If you wish… Is it the news from London, Lord Magnus? I do not know what has happened, it seems that something has, and that it is not especially, shall we say, salubrious, or my father would not wish to keep it from me.”
“Precisely, ma’am. It is, in fact, wholly disgraceful and reflects upon me because it is my brother who is central to what appears to be an appalling scandal. I can only be glad that I am many thousands of miles distant from the business. I feel sorry for my father, who is not in the nature of things a young man and must bear the brunt of it. To be brief, my brother has been discovered in the most disgusting and unmentionable form of misconduct and has withdrawn from public life; he faces criminal prosecution and has fled from the police. He has quite disappeared. There is speculation – I hope unfounded – that he may have terminated his life.”
Magnus reflected at this point that he much hoped that his brother would be discovered – preferably as a corpse. Was he to remain missing then there would be no end to the scandal, with ‘sightings’ regularly reported in the press and the whole affair raked over again. Was he to be found alive and taken into custody there would be an unedifying trial, and the newspapers were legally able to print every word said in a court of law, including the minutest details of the evidence given. The press habitually reported divorce cases on the front pages, censoring the lewder details; pamphlets priced at a penny or tuppence would print every last action mentioned. His brother would become a household name if he stood at the Old Bailey – ‘doing it the Eskdale way’ would become a standard joke in the music halls.
“How very shocking, Lord Magnus! And how distressing for you! People will talk and cause you a deal of embarrassment for weeks, sir. I can easily imagine that you will find this a great trial… And, I presume, that if you had a promised lady, then she would also be caused some distress… It would never entirely go away. The scandal would remain in the back of people’s minds, I would imagine, and probably on the front of their tongues. Very annoying! But no more than an annoyance, sir. One might suggest that to be in China is a fortunate thing for you just at the moment.”
“It is indeed, ma’am. Not least because I have met you for being here. Your father gave me his permission to address you, Miss Blantyre, knowing as much as I do about this affair in London. I had intended to step back, for fear of being an embarrassment to you. I hope I was wrong to think of so doing. I very much wish you to become my wife, Miss Blantyre. Will you marry me?”
She nodded, tried to find the words that were now appropriate. She had expected a romantic and passionate declaration, had been prepared to draw him up from his knees and take him into her embrace. Now she must respond in a way that would quiet his mind, that would reassure him. Fortunately, she suddenly saw the funny side, began to laugh.
“I will, Lord Magnus. Not the exact circumstance I had been imagining, but I wish to be your wife. People will talk, but they always would have, would they not?”
“They would, my dear. I regret to say that I have some notoriety myself, as you know. I will make the promise that I will give you no reason to blush for me. I have never been in love before, you see. But I have found that I do love you.”
“I must say the same, Magnus. I love you,
I find – rather unexpected of course. I had quite thought that I might discover a missionary, a man of the cloth with whom I should share a life of service. I cannot quite see you in that role, my love!”
She stood, at a loss for exactly what to do next. He kissed her, a somewhat surprising experience, she found, not at all what she had expected, but one she was very much in favour of having tried it.
“Will you continue in the Navy, Magnus?”
“I would wish to, my love. In part because I do not think I am the stuff that a businessman is made of. More because I may be forced to return to England in a few years – I would be unable to remain in China, might have to leave the hong to look after itself. It is possible that I have become heir to the earldom, you see, and I would on my father’s death have responsibilities in Britain that would demand our presence, that could not in the first instance be dealt with at a distance. There is a vast and impoverished estate, for example, that must need action taken…”
That, she only then realised, meant that she would become Countess. It was not an unpleasant prospect.
“How old is your Papa, Magnus?”
“Do you know, my dear, I am not at all sure. Eskdale is – or was – thirty and he was born within the year of my father’s marriage, as is normal enough. So the old gentleman was wed some thirty-one years ago, and I believe he married when younger than I am now… He might well be no more than fifty-seven, or thereabouts. The old dog might have another twenty years in him, my lady-to-be.”
Long enough for her to discover the demands of her new station in life; she was inclined to be pleased and wish the earl prolonged vigour. She knew that she was socially inferior to her fiancé and thought it might be as well for a few years to pass before she made the final upward step.
Chapter Three
The Earl’s Other Son Series
Shanghai Dreams
“Request that you report to Senior Naval Officer, sir. At your convenience.”
02 Shanghai Dreams (The Earl’s Other Son #2) Page 5