Page 73 of Again, Scoundrel

Alistair nodded. “I’ve something to discuss with you, brother. It may help.”

“Do the rounds with me then,” Darius said. “And tell me your plan.”

The two men took leave of Anderson and picked their way across the soggy ground to the next tenant. The land had grown so marshy that neither risked mounting their animals, instead preferring to make their way on foot, leading the horses by the sea path.

“How bad is it?” Alistair asked as they went.

“Terrible. Most of the tenant families have left, as they rightly should, except those too old like Anderson. Or too set in their ways to try something new. I’ve run out of ideas to help them. The land just won’t support crops.”

“And what does Father say?”

“Father says to let them go. We can place them on other estates. But I hate to see Rosehips bled dry of its people. The Kentish belong in Kent. Besides,” he laughed, “no one else would be able to understand them. I can hardly make out a word. Not as you do.”

Alistair smiled. He was still the only member of his family able to understand the heavy Kentish accent and peculiar colloquialisms.

“I do believe I have a solution to the agriculture problem, if not to the accent.”

“Tell me.”

As they walked their horses forward, Alistair laid out his plan to base his company out of the docks at Kent. There was no reason not to utilize the natural strengths of the place, he argued—plenty of shoreline, most of it owned by his family already; a railroad that tracked inland; and loyal men in need of employment.

“You aim to turn farmers into sailors?” Darius asked incredulously.

“If they choose. It is a skill like any other, and I can teach them. But we’ll need more than sailors. For this venture to be successful, we’ll need carpenters, dock workers, warehouse staff, delivery men, accountants. We could put every able-bodied man in Kent to work if we build our company well.”

He turned to Darius expectantly. “What do you think? Can I count on your support?”

“It’s a fine idea,” Darius said. “But do you know how to run a business, brother?”

“I’ve spent my time with the Company,” Alistair said. “I know the trade.”

“And where will you get the ships?”

“I’ve a partner with a ship in need of repairs. Seed funding will get the first in the water, and we’ll build from there.”

“And you’ll be based here in Kent?”

“Not a chance.”

Darius sighed and turned to his brother. The golden sun glinted off his hair and carved shadows into the planes of his face, so that he resembled a marble more than a person.

“Your plan is sound,” he finally said.

“But?”

“Father will not allow it.”

Alistair stopped walking abruptly, making his horse nudge into his back. “Because it is a trade?” he asked. “Or because the plan is mine?”

“The latter. But not in the way you imagine. You can’t be on a ship your whole life, brother.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m the spare. I can be anywhere at all and it would have no bearing.”

Darius shook his golden head. “You misunderstand. You always have. You’re my heir. And you likely always will be.”

He turned away then, refusing to say more.

“You’re not making sense, Darius. Can you not have children? Is that it?”