“Will they send a fleet out here, Lord Magnus?”
“Probably not, or that was the opinion of my admiral when I left Portsmouth. They would be too much out on a limb, too far from their own possessions for coaling and defended harbours. The betting was that they would send a powerful flotilla of armoured and protected cruisers, fast and able to get into the shipping lanes of the Pacific and the East Indies. Talking of betting, ma’am, do you wish to make a flutter?”
She did not; she really believed the horses and riders to look so much the same that it was impossible to make a rational choice between them.
“But you must not allow me to prevent you from placing a bet, Lord Magnus.”
“I have no intention of doing so, Miss Blantyre. I simply find no entertainment in placing money on events that I cannot control. I sometimes play a few rubbers of bridge, and will wager a little then, for I am backing my own ability to play cards, but watching horses under the guidance of other men gives me very little of pleasure. No, ma’am, I may well take delight in observing the demeanour of those who win or lose heavily, but I limit my gambling otherwise.”
She was entertained to hear of that particular pastime.
“Should one mock the afflicted, Lord Magnus? Surely to take a pleasure in watching those who have suffered a reverse is not the most desirable of habits?”
“Self-inflicted miseries, ma’am? Think how righteous one can feel, knowing that one is not as them!”
“Not a form of righteousness I approve of, my lord.”
“Nor one that I may often indulge in, ma’am.”
She wondered if he ever indulged in righteousness, and then concluded that it might be as well that he did not. She had experienced the unalloyed company of the righteous during her abrogated tour of the mission stations and she had no wish to repeat that particular pleasure. Her father had been happy to send her out from Shanghai, thinking that she might be so moved by the spirit as to wed one of the bachelor missionaries and enter into her own life of good works. She was quite certain that she would disappoint him – she had discovered that she could not tolerate that particular sort of person, and had not enjoyed the existence. As a young woman, soon to be of age, she realised that it was incumbent upon her to discover a husband – a process that promised in some ways to be extremely easy, for she was aware that she was potentially rich, wealthy in fact, being heiress to a not insignificant holding in Blantyres. Discovering a husband who she wanted, however, was not so simple.
She retired to her guest chamber that night in some discontent, having come to the conclusion that of the many gentlemen she had met in recent weeks, months if one counted the voyage out, far the most interesting was Lord Magnus. The gentleman was, however, in most aspects highly ineligible. His birth was superior to hers, but his fortune was far inferior and his reputation was quite unacceptable to respectable folk; add to that, he was unquestionably not seeking to reform his ways. As a respectable, chapel-going, God-fearing member of the upper middle classes, she should have nothing other than contempt for a man such as Lord Magnus. He viewed with distaste much that she held dear – and she was now inclined to wonder whether he might not have some right in his views.
Practically speaking, of course, marriage to a junior officer could offer many difficulties. He might be posted away at any time, and it would often be impossible for a wife to join him. She could not imagine that he would wish to send in his papers – for he would then be dependent on her family. Blantyres would undoubtedly find him a position, and pay him a very substantial wage, but he would be directly beholden to her, and that might easily destroy him.
Better to accept that Lord Magnus could not make her a husband, and think of him no more…
Chapter Nin
e
The China Station
“I am to leave for Shanghai tomorrow, Lord Magnus. The armoured cruiser Magnificent is to sail for Japan, showing the flag in Shanghai on the way, and cabins have been made available for myself and my companion.”
“That is convenient, Miss Blantyre. I had hoped that Admiral Seymour would extend the Navy’s hospitality so far. You will find the accommodation on Magnificent far superior to my little Bustard, and the food will also be better. I am afraid my wardroom is not the richest, and our messing is often limited, while Magnificent is renowned for the quality of her catering – and, of course, for the size of her mess bills!”
She was amused, though she felt that she should have been shocked at his admission of poverty.
“Admiral Seymour informed me that she is a ‘nine point two’ cruiser, sir. I must admit that I smiled and nodded my understanding, though I should really have admitted ignorance…”
“A pair of nine point two inch breech-loading rifled guns in single mountings, one fore, one aft, ma’am. She has as well eight of six inchers, singly on the beam, and ten of four point seven quick-firers and a large number of six and three pound guns, for dealing with torpedo boats. She has a belt of armour-plating, hence an ‘armoured’ cruiser, and hopefully capable of taking a place in the line. She is a very powerful warship, ma’am.”
She wondered why he managed to sound disapproving while recounting such an array of power.
“Untidy, ma’am, and remarkably difficult to control in action, or so I must imagine. The gunnery officer responsible for controlling Magnificent’s fire will have an impossible task, attempting to distinguish between the various shell bursts in order to set his ranges. Add to that, the great guns will have a range of about twelve thousand yards, while the six inch have barely ten and the four point sevens are wildly inaccurate at much over eight thousand. Finally, the guns on the beam are located rather low in the hull, ma’am, and will be impossible to man in high seas. Magnificent is certainly a powerful vessel, but only in circumstances that permit that power to be used. Her captain must sometimes wonder just what his ship is to do, ma’am, and how she is to do it. Equally, of course, the chances of war are very slight, and she is a most impressive seeming vessel – ideal for showing the natives just how strong the navy must be.”
“Hence, Lord Magnus, sending her to Japan?”
“Perhaps, ma’am, though from all I hear, the Japanese hardly qualify as ‘natives’.”
They took their place in the drift through to the dining-table, finding themselves mid-way in precedence on the board in Government House. Commissioned officers of navy and army were placed simply by rank, the very few lieutenants present positioned far from the head of the table, but the location of civilians depended upon a vast number of calculations, mostly performed by the Governor’s lady, whose functions were invaluable in this respect. Civilians were commonly deeply conscious of their status, much aware of who they were superior to and why; a merchant’s lady who was placed below her proper place would be a source of rancour for years, while one unwittingly promoted would lord it mercilessly over her peers. Magnus was aware of the social considerations of the dining table and was of the opinion that Miss Blantyre – single, middle-class and with low, missionary connections – might normally expect to be placed well towards the foot of the table; she was rich, but so were the bulk of those present. That she had been set at his shoulder meant that either the Governor’s wife thought she would need a guide to Society, and a quick nudge if she picked up the wrong knife and fork, or that their friendship was regarded as sufficiently close to keep them together. Whichever, there was a burden of expectation upon him.
If the Governor, and by extension, Admiral Seymour, believed him to be high in Miss Blantyre’s affections, then he was, Magnus mused, in trouble. If he made no attempt to offer his suit, then they might consider he was playing fast and loose with her and, with his existing reputation, that would do him no good at all. If he did attempt to secure her hand, then he might well find himself with a wife, or, equally to be regretted, he might be refused, which would soon become known and make him a laughing stock. ‘The earl’s son turned down by a mere merchant’s daughter’
– that would offer amusement in more places than in Hong Kong, and would further blight his career. Marrying out of the aristocracy, or the second-tier of Society, the County, might also reduce his chances of a good posting. There was always the possibility of an embassy, naval attaché in one of the European capitals, for an officer of aristocratic birth – but not if he had the wrong sort of wife at his side.
He smiled and drank his soup and smiled again and chatted away merrily and light-heartedly, brain racing the while:
She was a handsome girl – more than that – and with a rich figure that he would dearly like to lay lecherous hands upon. A lively sparkle in her eye, too and beautiful blonde locks - he would bet that he could very soon overcome her missionary inhibitions. It would be no hardship to share his existence with her, that was a given. No difficulty in keeping household either – she was wealthy; on the other hand, there was every prospect of her having to playing second fiddle. As a junior officer, a wife would have a hard life in many ways, always second to her husband’s career.
He smiled even more, and decided that she was not for him – it would be unfair to her. Being realistic as well, he could not imagine that Blantyres would regard him as the right sort for her, and they were powerful. If he chanced his arm, made a proposal, one that she found acceptable, he might well find himself rapidly posted very far distant from the China Station. An officer who offended one of the richest Hongs could be granted the honour of commanding the guardship in the Falkland Islands, driving an outdated, under-powered old frigate through the wastes of the Antarctic Ocean for the next seven years. He made desperate light conversation, reflecting that he had less than twenty-four hours to survive; she would be gone, and he would be safe, from himself as much as anything.
Miss Blantyre maintained her share of the conversation, as she was proper, and wondered just how delighted she must feel to return to Shanghai and the company of her peers there. Shanghai was far more a mercantile society; there were fewer by way of diplomats and senior officers than in Hong Kong, or presumably in Peking. The Blantyres were very much among the leaders of Society in Shanghai and she had been surprised and somewhat humiliated by her lower status in Hong Kong; she had been grateful for Lord Magnus’ company, had in fact enjoyed his slightly raffish, worldly attitude. She would meet none like Lord Magnus in Shanghai, not in the British community, for sure. There were Germans and Russians there, some of whom made claims to aristocratic status; there were a few Americans as well, definitely not of the blue-blooded; as for the French and the lesser breeds, the Italians and such, well, all of them seemed to tack ‘Count’ onto their names, though she doubted she would ever discover their families in the Almanach de Gotha or its national equivalent. That brought her back to Lord Magnus, whose title was indisputable… there was much to be said for a title, even when there was no inheritance in prospect. With her family’s money, of course, Lord Magnus would become Baron Campbell of Somewhere within a very few years, having the initial starting point of noble birth behind him.
She considered the matter of her future – something that she must deal with in the next year or two, she knew. She really should marry, to bring a competent husband into the family to act in place of the son who had never eventuated. That raised the question of ‘competence’, in its mercantile sense. Could Lord Magnus be brought into the dynasty and, sooner or later, be made responsible for its financial integrity? Her father was possessor of one-third of the equity of Blantyres, she understood, and that would amount eventually to several millions, to which she was the heir. It was understood that she would not herself attempt to run the firm – that was not a woman’s place – but her husband must be, in the cricketing term, a ‘safe pair of hands’.
Could Lord Magnus be described in such terms?
She smiled, commenting to Magnus that she felt the beef to have been more than a little overdone and listening to his agreement. She might trust his judgement of the roast, but rather doubted she would extend the same confidence to his assessment of a business deal… He was an attractive gentleman, and she might well enjoy his company and conversation, and might also harbour a degree of affection for him, but she could not in all honesty foist him onto Blantyres. Possibly, he could be a figurehead, Prince Albert to her Victoria – but she was not certain that he could accept such a place.
She reminded herself then that he had showed no inclination to offer for her hand; he had been careful to keep a proper distance, had made no attempt to shower affection upon her. She was not sure, in fact, that he even liked her. He had been an attentive escort, but he was a naval officer and Admiral Seymour had given him his orders.
She left the dinner in a state of uncertainty, not knowing whether he might wish to propose to her, and very definitely unsure of what answer she might give him.
Magnus escorted Miss Blantyre and her companion to Magnificent’s berth, made the most correct farewells and gave her into the hands of the Commander, the second-in-command of a large ship, and stepped back thankfully. He thought he might be far safer playing games with the French around Indo-China than in dancing attendance on such a very attractive young lady. He could not, he thought, spend the remainder of his existence playing second best to the Blantyre fortune. Though he imagined it might be rather pleasant to have access to money and to set up house in idleness with such a wife. But it was not the course he wished his life to follow.
He bowed and smiled and turned his face towards Bustard.
“Officers to my cabin for eight bells, Mr Whyte.”
“Gentlemen, we are to discover what, if anything, is happening to the south, on the very edge of the French lands of Indo-China. There is every chance of coming across pirates and slavers and I expect the gun crews to be ready for any eventuality. We may have to send boarding parties across to examine papers and possibly rummage ship’s holds. Many of the vessels we will stop will claim French nationality – and we must, as ever, be tender of their pretensions. We are not to cause a war with France. If we suppose any ship to be a danger to those Chinese who accept our protection, then we must be ready to take any or all action.”
Mr Whyte begged Magnus’ pardon.
“Is there a possibility of any other national ships to be discovered, sir?”
“As you know, all things are possible on the China Station, Mr Whyte. I would not be surprised to discover a ship under false colours, and endeavouring to create trouble between Britain and France. There is a possibility as well that the Chinese may be sowing discord between the foreign powers – indeed, if I was so unfortunate as to be a Chink, I would be doing my damnedest to set the gwailos at each other’s throats.”
“What if we discover a slaver, sir?”
“Arrest the officers and crew; take the ship under our command and bring her in, either under Bustard’s escort or with a prize crew aboard. Watch for armed resistance and have no hesitation in shooting any person who offers violence.”
Midshipman Ayres was almost bouncing up and down with excitement.
“What of pirates, sir? Can we hang them at the yardarm?”
“Theoretically, yes. In practice, most definitely not. All pirates will be sent in, to Hong Kong and the Admiralty Court. They will hang after trial, properly sentenced by a High Court Judge. They are not to be shot out of hand, either, I would add.”
Mr McGurk offered his agreement.
“Better they should be placed in irons, sir, and brought to Hong Kong where they can be publicly hanged, to pass the word to every other who has the same habit. Issue revolvers and cutlasses, sir?”
“Boarding parties will carry rifles, pistols, bayonets and cutlasses at your discretion, Mr McGurk. You will determine how the men should be armed. Twenty-four rounds to each pistol; sixty to the rifles?”
“That is standard issue, sir. It may be appropriate to modify that, on occasion.”
“Inform me after the event in your report, Mr McGurk. You will always cover boarding parties with machine guns and the
main armament, of course. The decision to open fire will be yours the moment a boarding party leaves the ship; otherwise, as always, the order is mine.”
“Thank you, sir. There may be no more than seconds to hand when it becomes apparent that a boarding party is in jeopardy.”
“So I am told, Mr McGurk. We may any of us have to take instant action, gentlemen. Be sure that I will support you, publicly. If I conclude that you have made a cock of things, then you may expect a severe reprimand, in the privacy of my cabin, but I shall offer my full backing before the Admiral when I have told you to use your own discretion.”
They nodded, nervously.
“Coal, Mr Burton – at very fullest, I trust.”
“It is, sir. Three hundred hours at ten knots or the better part of six hundred at six, sir.”
“It is my intention to cruise at six knots when we are on station, Mr Burton and to reduce speed at night when we may well wish to hang on and off a particular shore.”
“The engine room is in good condition, sir, following our prolonged stay in the dockyard.”
“Excellent. We sail on the top of the tide, or so I expect, gentlemen. I am to receive final orders from the Admiral in an hour from now.”
Admiral Seymour repeated that Bustard was not to start a war with France; she was at liberty, however, to permit the French to start a war with her.
“Damned Frogs are England’s natural enemy, Lord Magnus. If, as a happy side-effect of any dispute, Old England becomes the ally of Germany rather than France, well, I for one shall have no complaints.”
Magnus reminded himself that Admiral Seymour was one of Charlie B’s people and opposed to the Fishpond and its pro-French leanings. If Magnus’ actions permitted the French alliance to fail then Jacky Fisher would strike him off his list of supporters – and that would be an irritation, at the very least, because he was committed and could not expect a welcome from Charlie B’s people.
The China Station (The Earl’s Other Son Series, Book 1) Page 19
