Perilous Shores (Five Young Men of the Fenlands Book 2) by Andrew Wareham

Author:Andrew Wareham [Wareham, Andrew]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2023-04-23T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

Caius waved farewell to his next brother, wondering how he could have written him off as a dullard.

All of his life, Felix had appeared to be the slow boy, the one who would never make anything of himself, would need be protected from the buffets of the workaday world. Older by a year than Caius, he had nonetheless always seemed less grown up, struggling to make sense of the world. He had never been able to settle to Latin, education had given him the go by; he had run wild in the fields, growing muscle and little else.

“No more than a ploy, Uncle Fairfield! Year after year showing barely able to read and write, too dull to be set to his Latin and Greek, fit for no more than the mess of the local militia. Yet here he is, on good terms with the Ranee’s heir and evidently to be married into her family, even if not perhaps to be granted any great function therein. He has fallen on his feet, one might say!”

“So he has, nephew! A clever idler and with little by way of moral scruple to hold him back. He would be valueless to us in the firm. He is a stranger to hard labour. Very crafty! He will need be to navigate the waters of the Ranee’s court. He is, as you say, on good terms with the young man who is to sit the throne next, yet he must be most careful not to show too able in his company. If he is too good, he will quickly be perceived as a threat. In that case, the stranglers will pay him a visit in the night. Equally, if he is no more than pedestrian, why keep him? He will be expensive – they must give him a daughter and a retinue and housing and all of the best. If he does not pay for himself, then again, it will be the jetties in the night with their strangling cords. Your brother will walk a tightrope all his days, the least slip likely to be his last. In exchange, he will live a rich life, but I doubt it will be a long one!”

Caius was inclined to be sympathetic, but not too much so.

“Risky indeed, Uncle Fairfield. I suspect I shall be content to earn an amount less and simply work for it. Are we to open a branch in Madras, sir? The Northern Circars will be in many ways better served from the Madras Presidency, it seems.”

“Yes, Word is that Calcutta is divesting itself of the responsibility so that the local eyes can be turned north into Bengal which is in many ways a richer part of India, or apparently so.”

“Good. How will we go about setting up, sir?”

“You to sail down to Madras with an amount of gold to hand and authority to draw on the Company, acting as our bank, to whatever sum you need. Buy an office compound and rebuild to our needs.

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