Beware of the Dragon

Prologue

Peking, China, August 1900

The silence was all enveloping.

After the noise of gunfire, and shouting of orders to the troops, mixed with the muffled screams of the wounded, its eeriness caused her to stay perfectly still.

As the sweat trickled down her neck and the flies crawled over her skin, she was conscious of listening, and watching, and waiting… for what?

The moment passed and she resumed fanning above her patients face so the flies didn’t settle on his skin, as they lazily hovered above the bed sheet. He stirred uneasily under the influence of the opium, as his hand plucked agitatedly at the bed sheet, causing the flies to rise up before once more settling down.

Her back ached, and her clothing clung to her like a hot damp towel in the August heat. Taking a flannel from a bowl of tepid water beside the bed, she sponged the man’s face and neck, feeling the heat emanating from his body, as her fingers touched his skin.

Though not unduly flushed, she felt sure his temperature had risen, and his breathing seemed to be even and placid. She hesitated, not wanting to call the overworked, exhausted doctor for what seemed a whim, but there was something greenish about his pallor, which she had not seen before.

Suddenly there was a gurgling sound, and as she moved to raise him up, fresh blood erupted from his mouth, soaking her dress. She screamed for the doctor while the man in her arms gagged and choked as lifeblood spewed forth from his throat.

Pushed roughly aside by the doctor and orderly, she stood trembling against another victim’s bed, only too conscious of her helplessness as they worked to staunch the flow of blood.

He must not die now! Please God, please… Slowly she felt herself sink to the floor, sobbing, and then the walls of the legation ballroom shook as the cannon boomed.

The fighting had begun again.

* * *

One

London, June 1897

London was en fête. The crowds yelled themselves hoarse and waved their patriotic Union Jacks with gusto on a glorious June day as all the colour and pageantry of military and naval might from around the Empire and the world marched past. Behind them came the emblazoned carriages carrying Royalty waving graciously to the crowds.

Finally came the cynosure of all eyes. An open State landau, drawn by eight creams, carrying a little old lady swathed in black, wearing a white bonnet decorated with matching flowers, and holding a parasol to protect her from the sun. With her daughter and daughter in-law sitting opposite her, and the Prince of Wales riding alongside the carriage, she acknowledged the cheers of the crowd with tears tricking down her cheeks. Queen Victoria Regina, after sixty years on the throne, was celebrating with her family and people her Diamond Jubilee at the zenith of the British Empire.

Laura Adeane moved aside from the window of the house in Piccadilly. Her eyes also filled with tears as the carriage and escort of Indian lancers moved past and out of the range of vision. The sight of the grandmotherly figure amongst the cheers and jubilation had moved her unexpectedly, and she felt slightly embarrassed that it had brought tears to her eyes.

‘That is a sight to remember all your life my dear,’ murmured Aunt Fanny. ‘You will never see such an occasion again.’

Laura nodded in agreement as they moved away to let others continue to look at the colourful scene passing below them. Looking around the crowded drawing room, she appreciated how fortunate she had been to have been invited as a guest of her Aunt’s friend Lady Furnlow to witness the historic scene.

This Jubilee year 1897 had been a brilliant season, and although it had started off grey and dull that morning, as the Queen left Buckingham Palace the sun shone through the clouds for the rest of the day making it typical Queen’s weather.

For Laura, this was her second season, and though she had gained in confidence, she was only too aware of her unimportance amongst the members of the aristocracy in the room.

Aunt Fanny was her mother’s sister. As she and Uncle Edwin had no children, it had been exceptionally kind of her to invite Laura to stay with them in London and arrange for her to be presented and enjoy a season.

How much her mother had had to do with this, Laura was unsure, though she had been instrumental in Laura accepting the invitation, and had done all in her power to convince her husband to allow her to do so.

It had never occurred to Laura to question her parents’ opposing views on this matter. Her father, a practising doctor in Kent where they lived, had finally given his permission, and Laura had left the quiet domesticity of her home in Ashford and travelled with her mother to London to stay with the Martinfords.

It was only after some time that she began to realise that according to society’s views her mother’s decision to marry a penniless young doctor, (even if he was from an old yeoman family) was not from her mother’s family’s point of view considered a suitable match. The fact that the marriage was happy and successful and that the young doctor prospered meant very little to them.

Only Aunt Fanny, her mother’s only sister, had kept in touch, often having her mother, Laura and her brothers to stay at Derry Court in Dorset in the summer. Her father did not always go with them. But gradually over the years barriers had been broken down and a true friendship had developed.

Laura’s London season though, had been a different kettle of fish.

‘My dear Em,’ he had said to her mother. ‘Laura has no fortune or high connections to make her a considerable parti for the London swells. I am a country doctor, of no importance whatsoever. Though our daughter has a pretty face and has been brought up as a proper young lady, she will be of no interest to the men of the world she will meet who want a wife to better their careers.’

‘But Richard, every young girl wants the chance to go to dances, and enjoy pretty dresses, and meet young people their own age…’

‘Of course I understand that, but imagine the disappointment she is going to face when she realises no-one is the slightest bit interested in an unknown country miss…’

‘Oh, Richard, you are mean. It is too kind of Fanny and Edwin to offer this opportunity for Laura. Please my love, reconsider your decision,’ Emily Adeane pleaded.

And so it went on, with Laura listening outside the morning room door as they gently argued back and forth until her father gave way. Just as both Laura and her mother knew he would.

‘If she returns here with her heart broken, be it on your own head,’ was his final comment as he buried himself in his newspaper, and Laura heard her mother’s footsteps crossing the room. Without waiting a second longer she flew up the stairs out of sight, thankful that Annie the maid was nowhere to be seen.

‘Heart broken,’ Laura snorted to herself. ‘That will be the day I will ever be heart-broken over any man.’ The young men that were friends of her brothers had been her only contact with the opposite sex, and she had no opinion of them whatsoever.

She smiled to herself at the remembrance of this conversation, for both her parents had been correct in their assessment. Despite her initial nervousness she had enjoyed the few pretty dresses her Aunt had so kindly provided for her, and her presentation at Court. She loved dancing, and had rarely been a wallflower at the parties she had attended after her Aunt and Uncle had held a small dance for her.

As she moved to the back of the room Laura caught her reflection in the large looking glass above the mantle-piece. Slender, fair hair piled up under her hat, wide grey eyes fringed with dark lashes, in her delphinium blue organdy, she knew she was a pretty sight, but no more so than dozens of other girls enjoying the season.

She was skilled at the pianoforte, had a good soprano voice that carried well. Her watercolour sketches had been greatly praised, and her deportment, dancing and enjoyment of amateur theatricals was a delightful fact.

As regards to the opposite sex, Laura had met many of all ages, and though some were callow youths, (in her firm opinion), a lot were much more mature. It was with these men that she had enjoyed more serious conversation at dinner parties, and had flirted mildly with at dances.

It was painfully obvious that her father was correct that these men were looking for a wife with money and connections. Laura was only too aware that as the daughter of a country doctor, in their eyes she was sadly lacking.

It did not bother her unduly. No-one she had met had even remotely caused her any lack of sleep at night, and she was determined to continue to enjoy her Aunt’s hospitality and return to her home in Kent at the end of the season.

‘Well, Miss Adeane, did you enjoy the procession?’

The Honourable Frederick Southforth stopped her promenade as she moved forward. He was a pleasant young man, the third son of a Viscount with no money, and unless he found a rich heiress, which was highly unlikely, he was destined to remain a bachelor.

‘Indeed I did Mr Southforth. It was so overcast this morning I greatly feared rain which would have been such a shame for all the troops and the public watching. It is true Queen’s weather now though, and is just wonderful.’

‘It is now quite hot, would you like a glass of punch, or lemonade?’

A footman with a tray of refreshments was passing, and he smoothly relieved the harassed man of two glasses of punch.

Laura sneaked a glance at her Aunt who was sitting chatting to some acquaintances, and sipped the cold punch that was delicious. She knew at this time of the day lemonade should have been her preferred choice, but her mouth was dry, and Freddie had given it to her without waiting for her to say yes or no.

Oh well, the one glass surely wouldn’t hurt her. Freddie was still talking to her and she had missed what he had said with the buzz of conversation in the room.

‘I’m sorry Freddie, I was too busy enjoying the drink. I didn’t realise how thirsty I was. What did you say?’

‘There is a cold collation laid out in the next room. Shall we go and get something to eat?’

Laura smiled. She did not feel in the least bit hungry, but Freddie’s face was so expectant, and remembering her brother’s voracious appetites, she could see he was eager to sample the repast.

‘Very well, Freddie.’

With him beside her chatting away, they made their way into the adjoining room.

* * *

Two

The following day was spent in pleasant relaxation discussing the Jubilee Day and all the future events to come. Topmost in this