“Waiting aboard Bustard for my return, sir. I must escort her to her lodging in Hong Kong, of course, sir.”
“A hotel? Hardly ideal for an unmarried girl, even with her lady companion… Better that my wife should keep an eye on her here.”
Magnus had fully expected that invitation – Admiral Seymour could hardly not have given the girl accommodation, in his opinion.
“Very good, sir. I shall bring the young lady to the House, sir, before resuming Bustard’s patrol.”
“Not so damned fast, young man! You have brought her here – you can entertain her. She will require an escort of her own age. We can arrange a dinner party or two, and there will be dancing parties as well, no doubt. I seem to be invited to three or four functions every week, and am forced to attend the damned affairs. Well, Lord Magnus, you can do the same – and act the part of the man about town, far more your sort of thing than mine! Bustard to remain in harbour for the week. While I think of it, when the week’s up, I want you to head down to the south, to the edge of the French territory, just to poke your nose into whatever may happening down there. Got a sniff of piracy, or some such – you will discover what is going on and put an end to it. Flag Captain will give you a briefing.”
Miss Blantyre was to be removed from the privations of the captain’s cabin to a suite in the Admiral’s House, which would be far more to her taste. She had stayed in three missions before the misadventure at Amoy, and would, no doubt, be rather glad that she had fortuitously been rescued from the remainder of the tour of inspection – no more cold water baths and plain and scanty food. She had eaten far too much of boiled rice and scraps of chicken in the previous fortnight.
She was prepared to accept that privation was good for the soul – but felt that the principle could be extended too far. She believed that her soul was probably in fair working condition as it stood and did not need extreme measures to polish it up to a saintly status. She had been rather irritated as well by the insistence of several of the ministers that the young female was inherently sinful and at risk, far more so than the male of the species; she did not accept that she must spend hours of every day begging God to have mercy upon her and save her from her base nature. She did not think she possessed a base nature. She had certainly not noticed it yet - and if she had, she could keep it under reasonable control by her own force of mind. And all without needing the services of a member of the clergy to explain just how she was going wrong.
She would not, she decided, continue with tours of inspection of the mission stations.
On Magnus’ return to Bustard she asked whether there was a suitable ship she could take passage on to return to Shanghai.
“Almost certainly inside the week, ma’am. I believe that there are frequent services of ships from England or Australia, and some number of Americans as well. For the immediate future, ma’am, Mrs Admiral Seymour begs that you will honour her with your company at Admiral’s House. It will be possible to organise a passage very conveniently using the services of the admiral’s staff.”
She accepted instantly, having been somewhat nervous of the prospect of staying in a hotel without a male member of her family to give her countenance.
“I will escort you there, ma’am, at the time of your choosing.”
“As soon as is possible, Lord Magnus. I must have caused you great inconvenience, sir, taking your accommodation from you.”
“Very little, ma’am. The Navy is very good at protecting a captain’s comfort. Poor Midshipman Ayres will undoubtedly be pleased to return to his cabin, but the rest of us have hardly suffered, ma’am.”
She suspected that might be correct, and was certain that a modicum of suffering would be good for Mr Ayres – a bumptious youth, in her opinion and much inclined to bow over her hand.
Magnus had observed the boy’s excesses of civility, had been inclined to shrug them off as harmless, a phase he would grow out of.
“Mr Ayres will no doubt discover the exact nature of courtesy to the elegant female, Lord Magnus.”
“Eventually, no doubt, ma’am. He has rather a high opinion of himself, inasmuch as he is a rarely privileged youth for our service, ma’am; fourth son in a traditional and rich family.”
She did not understand his meaning.
“Eldest to inherit, heir to title and lands – a baronetcy and very minor, but with broad acres in this case, seat in the House of Commons and Cabinet Minister if he wishes; second son to the Brigade of Guards, to be a colonel at minimum by age fifty; third to the Church, a bishopric guaranteed; lesser mortals as they come along to the Navy and Banking and India, even to regiments of the Line, with promotion to be expected at an early age. He has a private income that is his for life and knows himself to be a son of privilege, even after his years in Dartmouth, an institution that tends to quite literally beat the arrogance out of its cadets. He has not intimated such to me yet, but has told the Sub that he will be the recipient of early promotion, will be a post-captain before many years have gone by.”
Magnus laughed.
She wondered what had caused the amusement.
“A suspicion that he may well be right, ma’am. He has been posted to my little Bustard, rather than to a battleship – and the rich normally bask under the eye of an admiral – with the advantage that he is almost certain to see action and make sub-lieutenant in the shortest possible time. Having taken that first promotion, then the probability is that he will be posted to the busiest ship on the station, there to be seen as efficient and the right sort of chap to climb in the naval world.”
“Thus, Lord Magnus, you suspect he may outstrip you?”
“Undoubtedly, ma’am – my prospects of promotion are slight indeed. Should I take part in a major action and earn myself a Victoria Cross in the process – and not posthumous, of course – then post-captain will follow; it must in such a circumstance. Without that grace, I shall remain a Commander, probably in small ships such as Bustard, until I have twenty years in as a commissioned officer and then may expect to be put out to grass at the age of forty – half-pay in a small cottage in Southsea, walking along the front every morning and peering at the ships in Portsmouth Harbour, and then back to potter indoors until another day has ended. If you go to Portsmouth ever, ma’am, you will see them by the score, middle-aged bachelors rapidly growing old and inevitably cranky – the cast-offs of the profession.”
She was shocked at the flat realism in his voice, the matter of fact acceptance of his probable future.
“And that, you believe, is a certainty, Lord Magnus?”
“Without a war, yes, ma’am. Barely one officer in twenty becomes a post-captain – there is no need for more. Inevitably, displayed merit accounts for the bulk of promotions; influence determines the remainder. Unfortunately, one must point out that displayed demerit, as one might say, also plays a major part in ensuring a lack of promotion.”
She chuckled, then apologised, such a dreadfully ill-bred thing to do, to laugh at another’s misfortune, however much self-sought.
“Will you not leave the Navy, Lord Magnus, seek another profession?”
“No, ma’am. Dartmouth equips the boy to become a sailor, but nothing else. I could, I suspect, become an adventurer, roaming the plains of Africa in search of gold and diamonds or penetrating the rivers of South America in search of Eldorado – but, really, you know, there is a sufficiency of the underbred – so-called ‘adventurers’ - indulging in such pursuits already. The alternative is to become a professional politician – and that particular form of vulgarity has very little attraction, I fear. No, ma’am, I shall remain a sailor and sink into obscurity.”
He did not mention that he had no intention of declining into poverty – his time on the China Station was to ensure that his obscurity would be leavened by a modicum of cash, he much hoped.
“It must be a source of some chagrin, to see youths such as Mr Ayres pass you by, Lord Magnus.”
“To an extent, it must be, m
a’am. But he will only do so if he displays a reasonable level of competence, you know. If he transpires to be idle or incapable of learning, then he will not go very far at all, despite all his advantages. As well, if his character is in any way inadequate, then he will be pushed to one side, will become a flunkey to an Admiral and little else – a drifter on the edges of Society, but not a true sailor.”
Magnus would not even hint at the possibility that any gentleman might display shyness, might be less than a red-blooded man of battle, and Miss Blantyre failed to catch the implication, was content to accept that he might show as the ‘wrong sort’, whatever that might be in naval terms.
“We now have a problem, Miss Blantyre – what we are to do for taking you to the Admiral’s House. You see, it is no more than a furlong distant from us. Am I to call a carriage for a journey of one minute, or are you to experience the indignity of arriving on foot?”
She felt she might be able to walk, being a young lady and therefore not so tender of her position in life.
Mrs Admiral was county-born and socially superior, she believed, to any merchant’s daughter, no matter how elegant her education and fortune. She greeted Miss Blantyre very kindly and was not at all surprised to discover her on foot.
“The Admiral informs me that you were stranded in Amoy, of all places, Miss Blantyre. Very much a lesser treaty port these days, of course. You will wish to return to Shanghai, I do not doubt. It will take a few days, of course. Have you a sufficient wardrobe with you? There will be a number of functions, entertainments and such, that you will like to attend this week. My little dressmaker can produce a gown overnight if need arises – the great advantage of Hong Kong, you know.”
Miss Blantyre said she had only a pair of travelling cases with her… but that could be remedied, no doubt.
Mrs Admiral reminded Magnus that he was to dine that evening, civilian not naval, white tie, before ushering him away while calling for her maid to bring the dressmaker to the presence. She then swept Miss Blantyre away, her lady companion trailing behind, almost unnoticed, as was the fate of ladies so reduced in circumstance as to take such a place.
Magnus was mildly amused, ambled back to the Admiral’s office to enquire of a Petty Officer there whether there was a Post Office as such and how one might send a packet to one’s family in England.
“The Post Office, sir, provides its normal services. If the packet is valuable, sir, then most of the larger traders will carry it with their consignments home, sir, for a small fee. The Banks also provide such a service, sir, for a slightly larger fee but with the assurance of absolute safety.”
The Hong Kong and Shanghai Banking Corporation – the Honkers and Shankers as it was unfortunately known – took charge of the little box containing the imperial jade figurine and guaranteed its delivery to Lord Eskdale at the House of Commons; it would arrive within sixty days, they assured him. Magnus had spent some time in thought before sending the valuable parcel to his brother rather than his father; he had no doubt that Eskdale would sell the piece for him and get the best possible price as well. His father would also certainly have sold the jade, but he might well have forgotten to place the proceeds in Magnus’ bank account, while Eskdale was utterly reliable in all financial matters. Magnus had no doubt that he would hear of the sale and of the money placed to his account well before the year’s end; on the other hand, his father might have simply sent a letter thanking Magnus for his generosity…
Back on board Bustard, Magnus’ thoughts turned to the upcoming soirée.
“Evening dress, Carter – not uniform tonight.”
“Certainly, sir. This will probably be the last wear for the waistcoat, sir. The Marcella cotton does not last especially well, sir. With your permission, I shall require a tailor to attend us.”
As captain’s steward, Carter would have been targeted by a dozen or more of tailors begging his recommendation to his master; there would have been any number of inducements offered, in cash or in kind, and he would have selected one who was a master of his trade, and open-handed as well.
“Yes, definitely evening dress, Carter. Do you know if the habit of black tie has caught on in Hong Kong? If so, I shall require a dinner-jacket and one of these damned cummerbund things – I wonder what Brummel would have said to a sash worn around the waist?”
Carter assumed that to be a rhetorical question, never having heard of Brummel and thinking him to be an admiral on the Home station.
“Black tie, sir. Unfortunately common, sir. More so than white, I fear. I am inclined to the opinion, sir, that the number of merchants to be found in Society here accounts for it – they tend towards an expansion around the waist as they become richer, sir, probably for spending so long counting the pennies behind a desk, sir.”
“And a cummerbund may draw attention away from the waistline, you think, Carter? You might be right.”
“As well, sir, a substantial amount of whalebone stuffed inside may actively reduce the protuberance, sir.”
The thought of corseted magnates was appealing, brought an appreciative grin.
“They say that the Prince Regent, back in my great-grandfather’s day, wore a corset, Carter – that may well be the sole way in which the local merchants bear any resemblance to royalty!”
“Tailor tomorrow, sir?”
“We shall be here for a week. That will be convenient. Ask Mr Whyte to see me, please.”
“Charts, Mr Whyte, for the coast down to the south, to the French lands. Admiral Seymour has been informed of some sort of unpleasantness going on – piracy, perhaps. We will take ourselves along that coast next week, as far as the very border of the area the French claim as their own sphere of interest. That will require accurate navigation, of course, as we must not tread on their toes. What ports should we call at?”
“None, sir. The French claim the whole area to the south as a ‘sphere of influence’. All unofficial, without agreement from any other interested powers, sir, but it’s simpler to allow them their arrogant way for the while. The next conference on China will formalise the business, but until then it is wiser to keep our noses out, unless we are given a specific order. It might not be impossible, sir, that Admiral Seymour might not be too displeased was you to accidentally tread on French toes, and hasten the next conference. If it goes wrong, sir – then you take the blame…”
Magnus nodded grimly – he had heard of this game before.
“If it goes right, and the French are forced to pull back, then Admiral Seymour receives the plaudits. A bold initiative on his part, in fact. If the French come out on top, well, ‘that man Campbell was pushed out of England for being a bloody fool’.”
“Yes, sir.”
Magnus took another look at the charts.
“Patrol around Hainan Island, then into the Gulf of Tonkin, outside the three-mile limit, except we are in hot pursuit of a suspicious junk or steamer. Inspect the shore, and particularly any creeks and estuaries, and generally make ourselves conspicuous. Have we such things as binoculars that the lookouts might use, Mr Whyte?”
“No, sir. One issue telescope, sir.”
“They say that anything may be obtained in Hong Kong, do they not?”
“They do, sir. Including genuine imitation German glasses, sir, by Carl Zeiss of Jena, Kowloon branch.”
Magnus laughed, he liked the concept.
Dinner was tedious, the guests all important figures of Hong Kong society, mostly well into middle-age and aware of their own importance and much inclined to ensure that Magnus, the newcomer, was fully informed of their pre-eminence.
Miss Blantyre, suitably demure as an unwed and unknown young female, remained almost silent and took great and malicious enjoyment as Magnus maintained rigorous courtesy under provocation.
“Your father is, I believe, Lord Magnus, the Earl of Calvine.”
“He is indeed, ma’am. A laird of some traditional standing in the Highlands, but unfortunately of minor significance elsewhe
re in Britain.”
“Yet, is not he a favourite of Her Majesty, Lord Magnus?”
“He is honoured by Her Majesty’s great condescension, ma’am. He is, however, well aware that it would be the worst form of discourtesy to use such favour to his own advantage. My father is, I believe, a man of the most rigorous honour, ma’am.”
“And so he should be, too, Lord Magnus! The old chivalry still lives in the Highlands, one understands.”
“So it does, ma’am.”
Miss Blantyre suppressed her smile as the lady’s attempts to discover inside information about the reclusive Queen’s court came to nothing.
The ladies withdrew, and Magnus sampled Admiral Seymour’s port – transported around half of the world and kept then in a warm cellar. It was not his favourite tipple at best. The brandy which followed was better.
The men talked business, while the officers listened silently.
Magnus discovered that three of the eight gentlemen were bankers, the remaining five all seniors in the major merchant houses of the colony. Their chief concern was the price of silver, which was rising, it seemed, and they knew not why.
“Bullion is being bought heavily,” said the oldest of the bankers, a Rothschild in a cadet branch of the family, “and we cannot discover who is in the market. None of the houses we know, that’s for sure.”
None of them had heard a word.
“Not an English buyer, which is worrying. Leaves the question of how to react, does it not?”
They nodded, grimly.
Magnus allowed his puzzlement to show – he could not understand why there was a problem.
“If we do nothing, Lord Magnus, then the value of the silver we hold will be seen to rise. Our assets will be greater, and we will be able to lend more on their back. When the price falls, our assets will seem to be less and we shall have to draw our horns in. That may be the least hazardous course, even so. We might sell our holdings of bullion, and thus make a profit, but what if the price of the metal continues to rise? We will have sold at lower value, thus to lose money. The third course is to assume that the price will continue to rise, and thus to buy metal now, with the intent of selling next week or month or whenever. Whatever we do, there is a risk.”
The China Station (The Earl’s Other Son Series, Book 1) Page 17