The Pirate Princess by Brenda Clough

Author:Brenda Clough [Clough, Brenda W.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Victorian thriller, historical adventure, action adventure
ISBN: 9781611380231
Publisher: Book View Cafe
Published: 2021-09-04T00:00:00+00:00

Marian H. C. Inglis’s journal

9 October

Today we made landfall in Hong Kong. I had been about to write that I am weary of Asian islands. But one would never know Hong Kong is sea-girt. It’s a bustling city, not as grand as London but every bit as teeming. The wooden buildings cling to the steep slopes of the central mountain, and the roadstead is crowded with shipping. The Smoke Dragon is nothing unusual here. There are hundreds of vessels made entirely of wood with strange pleated sails. Tad informs me that the Chinese name for them is ‘junks,’ while the low pointed vessels are sampans. Hong Kong became a colony of the Crown only forty years ago, and is now well-run. The town of Victoria and the quays present an orderly appearance, with rows of long low warehouses, coal stores, and gangs of coolies hurrying back and forth.

As the Smoke Dragon wallowed nearer it struck me that we were attracting notice. From across the water I heard the squeal of horns or trumpets, distorted by distance. People on other junks pointed at us. They held pistols! And on the Praya, which is the main quay, red-coated soldiers ran with their rifles. Who had turned out the garrison? There is no fortress or fortification, but there is cannon set up to defend the customs house. Men were loading them with round shot! And when I looked up at our masts I saw that signals were being hoisted on the Smoke Dragon.

The boys pelted past and I called, “Sailaway, is something happening?”

“They may shell us, Miss Marian. Isn’t it a fine thing?”

Horrified, I followed them as they clambered up to the foredeck. Lord Sze stood there in full view, his hands clasped at his back. His black pajamas had been augmented by a black silk waistcoat that fell to his knees. “My lord,” I panted, “what is this? Do they not recognise you as a peaceful visitor?”

“There is some doubt.” Lord Sze’s voice was calm but his smile was very white, and his high cheekbones made him look ferocious.

“This is intolerable. Perhaps they should know that I’m a British citizen.” The signals had some calming effect, and we were permitted to throw out the lines and be warped in.

My tattered lavender Indian-cotton gown was fit only for the ragbag. In its stead Mme. Soo found me a long robe of green Chinese silk, loose and embroidered in gold and scarlet with birds and vines. I suspect the garment’s original owner was not respectable, and it is certainly of no fashionable cut. But it fell to my feet and had elbow sleeves, all that is required for decency. The bustle is out of mode this year, so it sufficed to take the bodice in for fit and shift all the fullness to the back.

I had neither gloves, hoops, bonnet, nor shawl, but I still had the palm-frond fan. A handsome gown lends confidence, as does clean hair tidily pinned up. The first to

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