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“Of all the damn nuisances!” Philip exclaimed when they reached Stanley and there was no ship belonging to Her Majesty’s Navy.
“They wouldn’t up and leave her, would they?” he muttered to Rufus as they explored the harbor.
Maybe if they cherished a moment’s silence, they would, Philip thought unkindly. He’d checked on Miss Angsley once during the quick voyage and had to back out of the cabin while she was still talking.
Maybe she was simply nervous. Or maybe he’d forgotten how women behaved since he hadn’t been in the company of one for a long while. At least, not the kind of company that wasn’t paid for and was handled nearly in silence except for a few grunts and moans. The Chinese whores had been very kind to him and his men whenever he’d granted shore leave or taken the opportunity himself. Delicate and bawdy at the same time, speaking only enough English to haggle over the price.
Regardless, he knew every man aboard the Robert would trade a week of enjoying the skillful harlots of Shanghai in order to get home to England sooner. They needed to get underway within a couple weeks or risk foul weather when they rounded the southern tip of Africa. The Cape of Good Hope cared for no man’s schedule!
They’d scoured the harbor and even hailed two English merchant ships but were told the same thing — the only Royal Naval ship had left the day before. He sent Rufus and another crewman ashore in a rowboat to suss out any information about her father, Lord Harold Angsley, and then he knocked on the door of his cabin to tell her the bad news.
“Come in,” she said.
He smiled to himself. She did sound like a privileged English miss. Basically, she sounded like home to him, and he yearned to be on his way back.
Pushing the door gently open, his eyes found her seated at his table, perusing the charts he’d left upon it. There had probably been little else for her to do though he was certain he had a few books stowed away in one of his drawers.
She looked up at him with pretty brown eyes, and he felt a pang of something. Admiration? Attraction? Desire?
She’d taken some time to wash up. Her face was clean, and she’d somehow, in the magical way of females, put her hair up again. Pins such as he’d had the privilege to pull out of a few English ladies’ finely dressed hair, releasing their tresses, had probably been lurking in her hair all along, under the braids.
He was rather sorry to see her appearing so polished, in fact. He’d already spent a moment or two imagining her hair out of the plaits altogether and running his fingers through her silky waves.
Avast! he cautioned himself. Remember her social status. Miss Beryl Angsley was a young lady traveling with her father, a member of the aristocracy, and thus, most assuredly, a virgin.
“I looked out the porthole, Captain,” she said by way of greeting, “being careful not to get my head stuck, of course.”
She had a sense of humor, too.
“What did you see?” he asked.
“I believe I recognize Stanley Bay. Am I correct?”
“You are.” How did he tell her the awful truth? That her ship had sailed without her. He would put it off, that’s how.
“When you first docked here, months ago, where did you stay?”
Cocking her head, she recalled, “In rooms in Stanley Fort. Not for long, though. Soon, we went to—”
He interrupted before she regaled him with another story of her travels in China. “Is that where your father is staying?”
“Yes, that’s where I was when I was kidnapped.” She got up and went to a porthole. “I’m sure it’s that building on the right.”
Facing him, she said, “Please, Captain, won’t you take me ashore so I can find him.”
If only it were so easy.
He considered where the Royal Navy and her father might have gone looking for her. With the size of China, Lord Angsley must have found it a daunting notion.
“Captain, will you take me ashore now?” she repeated.
Hearing footsteps on deck, he knew his men had returned. A couple moments later, Rufus appeared in the passageway.
“Anything?”
A curt shake of his head, and then he indicated Philip should follow him out of the cabin.
Miss Angsley frowned. “Is anything wrong, Captain?”
Maybe everything. “I’ll return in a moment.”
“Well?” Philip asked as soon as he closed the cabin door.
Rufus shrugged. “No sign of a party of diplomats. As you know, nearly everyone is English or speaks English on the island, and everyone is talking about the kidnapping of an aristocrat’s daughter, including all our hands, who now know whom they’ve got on board. And colonists are up in arms because it happened on the island, on British territory.”
“Do they know who did it?”
Rufus raised an eyebrow. “Meaning, might they think we did it if they find out she’s on board?”
Philip grunted. “I’m fairly certain we can talk our way out of that, or at least she can explain. But we certainly don’t want them searching the Robert, do we?”
Not only the duchess’s jewels but a few other prized possessions had found their way into his ship’s hold, to be sold back in Britain. All of it ill-gotten gain removed from Chinese pirate junks. The Royal Navy wouldn’t hesitate to confiscate the lot.
“The sooner we get rid of her, the better,” Rufus said.
“Agreed,” though it caused him a moment’s discontent to think of never seeing her or her soft brown eyes again.
“I will escort her ashore myself and check in at the barracks office to find out about her father’s whereabouts.”
“And leave her safely in their keeping?” Rufus asked, frowning. “You will leave her, won’t you?”
Philip stayed silent. If the Royal Navy and her father had left her behind, how could he do the same?
“You feel responsible for her, don’t you, Lord Corsair?” Rufus guessed, offering a lopsided grin.
Philip cringed as he always did when one of his crew called him that. It was a ridiculous moniker, a jest they’d come up with over too much rum when first leaving British waters.
“You know the rule — save a life, keep a life,” Philip reminded him.
“She should be in debt to you for the rest of her life, but you shouldn’t feel responsible forever. It’s a stupid rule.”
Philip shrugged. “No rowboat for Miss Angsley. Take us to the dock.”
With that, he returned to his cabin. She looked up with those trusting eyes.
“As soon as we’re docked, I’ll take you ashore.”
“Thank you, Captain.”
“Seeing as you don’t have anything with you, I suppose you’re ready to disembark. That is, if you’ll leave my candlestick alone.”
She smiled at him.
There was nothing more to say. No point he could see to telling her he feared her father and their party had left. She would find that out soon enough.
Within a few minutes, he was assisting her off his ship and onto one of the docks in Stanley Bay, and they were on the rudimentary street. There had been little habitation in Stanley, or any of Hong Kong Island, until the British took control and colonized it nine years earlier. It still wasn’t much to look at, but they strolled through the port until they reached the barracks.
“This is where I was,” she exclaimed. “And I strolled down that way,” she paused to point past the barracks to the far tip of the cove, “when I was set upon.”
It made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Miss Angsley should have been safe here of all places, surrounded by British officers, unless someone had wanted her in particular. Someone who could take her quickly to the next cove, then onto a rowboat to a pirate junk. Someone powerful like Chui-A-poo.
“No matter, Miss Angsley.” He patted his revolver on his hip, confident six shots would be enough to protect them both. “Let’s see about getting you reunited with your father.”
They soon found the barracks, and from the first sailor they encountered, they learned precisely what Philip’s first mate had thought — the diplomats, including Lord Angsley, and the HMS Wellesley had departed.
All the spark seemed to go out of Miss Angsley. Fearing she might faint, he tucked her arm under his, and they continued walking toward the ensign’s office as if they were promenading along Pall Mall.
“So, what do I do with you, Beryl?” Philip asked, his tone light so as not to frighten her. She was in quite a predicament.
“If you don’t mind, Captain, I think I am ready to go home.”
She said it as if they were at one end of Hyde Park, and she wanted him merely to drive her in his carriage around to Kensington Gardens at the other end. Not sail across to the other side of the world.
“Let’s see if anyone has any more information. The ensign of the barracks will probably know something.”
At seeing her, the young ensign’s eyes bugged out of his head, and he jumped up from his chair.
“Thank the good Lord!” he said. Then he frowned and confirmed what they already knew.
Hearing Lord Angsley had left already did not sound any better the second time.
Philip felt Beryl’s entire body begin to tremble, and quickly, he settled her in a chair.
“My father would not leave me behind,” she protested, her voice thick with emotion.
“No, Miss Angsley. Not by choice,” the ensign assured her. “Lord Angsley was beside himself with agitation. The Wellesley has left Stanley but not yet China. They are in search of you. They’ve headed to Dianbai.”
“Dianbai?” Philip exclaimed. “They went west?”
The ensign stood up taller. “And who are you, sir?”
“Captain Carruthers. I’m the man who rescued her about three hours east of here.” Philip had to pace or he was going to explode. “And here she plainly is, Ensign, as you can see. With her father heading a hundred and ninety nautical miles in the wrong direction!”
The ensign’s cheeks went slightly red. “We had no way of knowing where she was, but the pirate, Shap-ng-tsai, is hold up there with about seventy junks. We thought perhaps he’d amassed a small fleet because he’d taken her.”
“No,” Philip told the man. “He didn’t take her and he’s not there in any case. He’s moved his entire damn pirate fleet to Hai Phong.”
“I don’t know Hai Phong, Captain,” the ensign said, speaking more respectfully. “Which part of China?” He started to glance down at the charts on his desk.
“Not China, Ensign. The Kingdom of Việt Nam, or ... what are they calling it now? The Empire of Đại Nam. I only know because I have had dealings with the villagers near Dianbai, people who’ve been paying Shap-ng-tsai for years not to raid them. They’re not paying anymore because he’s gone. As you can imagine, they’re happy to talk about it.”
“I see.” The ensign looked perplexed. “I’m sure the officers on the Wellesley have learned this already, as they would have reached Dianbai late yesterday.” Then his expression brightened. “You own the clipper that just docked?”
“Aye.”
“Then you will take Miss Angsley to Hai Phong and reunite her with her father.”
Philip already knew he was going to do so, had known it the instant the ensign mentioned Lord Angsley’s westerly destination, but he didn’t like to be told.
“I do not work for the navy. However, my vessel is for hire. How much will Her Majesty pay me for my trouble?”
Beryl, who had been unusually quiet during the exchange, suddenly interrupted.
“You are a pirate. I knew it. Only a pirate would demand restitution for such as this.”
Philip glanced at the ensign, feeling a moment’s nervousness. He was, after all, in a Royal Naval barracks surrounded by armed men who didn’t look too fondly on pirates.
“I am a privateer, as I’ve told you.” He looked at the ensign. “I have a letter of marque from Her Majesty Queen Victoria, but it doesn’t charge me with delivering irresponsible females who get themselves kidnapped by wandering alone out of the safety of the barracks.”
“Oh!” Beryl exclaimed. “Irresponsible? How dare you!”
Philip rolled his eyes. How dare he? Again, they were not at a bloody dinner party where he’d spilled wine on the Persian rug.
“I have completed the orders of my queen,” he said to the ensign watching their exchange, “and I am heading back to England.”
“It is in the same general direction,” the ensign pointed out.
Philip bloody well knew it, but that didn’t change the matter. Delays were dangerous. Anything could happen, including the Robert being blown to smithereens by going near a potential battle between Royal Naval officers and crazed pirates, a battle in which Philip had absolutely no stake.
“I will need compensation,” he said once more, fearing the man was too low level to be able to offer him anything, but it never hurt to try.
“What might you have in mind, Captain? Though there’s not much I can do, I would dearly love to solve this problem.”
The ensign’s gaze flickered over to Beryl, and she crossed her arms.
“I am not a problem,” she muttered.
Ignoring her, Philip thought a moment. Mr. Churley, his quartermaster, would be thrilled to take on supplies, especially familiar items, rare elsewhere in the Orient, but quite normal here in colonial Hong Kong. Perhaps some custard powder or sultanas, some clotted cream or bacon.
“I could send my quartermaster ashore with a couple crewmen to gather supplies. I’m sure you’ve got some British delicacies we haven’t had for two years. Do you think you could provide us with what we need for our long journey home?”
The man nodded thoughtfully. “I believe I can, Captain. I could not give you coin of the realm, for certain, but I can give you stores.”
“Fine then, I’ll take Miss Angsley to Hai Phong, and the HMS Wellesley had better be there.”
The ensign appeared relieved, having done his part to further the reunification of father and daughter.
“And if it isn’t there?” Beryl asked, standing up.
Then what? Philip wondered.