“I think...” Robert paused. Odd that even with his brother, he felt shy articulating his amorphous hopes for the rest of his life. “I think I’d like to buy a small estate somewhere and farm. I’ve got prize money and my legacy from Papa. I’d like to give Kerenza and any other children we have a life like the one you and I had growing up. Loving parents. Freedom to discover who they are. All on a smaller scale than Woodley Park, obviously.”
“So you really do want to drop anchor?”
“And never leave home again. Yes. Although I imagine Morwenna might fancy coming up to London occasionally, having had a taste of excitement this season.”
Silas was shaking his head. “You know, I wouldn’t bet on it. We had to drag her here kicking and screaming, and while she’s borne it all with a good grace, she’d jump at the chance to become a farmer’s wife.”
“I hope so. Although if she wants to come to London, I’ll damn well see she comes to London.”
“You seem to have sorted out your priorities.”
His lips twisted. “It’s an ill wind that blows no good, brother. Five years of imprisonment gives a man plenty of thinking time.”
“I’m glad. I know you love Morwenna, but I couldn’t help feeling you loved the navy more.”
Robert bristled and glared at his brother through the shadows. “That’s a damn rotten thing to say.”
“No need to fly up into the boughs, old man.” Silas paused. “And for what it’s worth, I don’t feel that’s true since you came back.”
Robert sucked in a sharp breath. Silas’s accusation wasn’t true, had never been true. But if he must, he might admit that he could see why his brother had reached that conclusion. “I’d die for my wife.”
Silas’s smile was wry with understanding. “I think she’d much rather you lived for her.” He made a conciliatory gesture. “And I might have an idea about that.”
“Oh?”
“The Devon estate I inherited from Uncle Frederick needs a manager...”
Robert’s hand sliced the air. “Silas, I appreciate what you’re doing, but I don’t need your charity.”
Silas’s short laugh was dismissive. “Don’t be so bloody stiff-necked, and hear me out. I haven’t been to Belleville in years, but I remember it as a very pleasant situation with a sea view. Just perfect for all those children you’ve set your heart on.”
“Silas...”
His brother ignored him and plowed on. “The estate has rather slipped off my list of concerns in recent years, and when the tenants left a month ago, the report I got back from my agent is that it’s fallen into sad disrepair. The bones of the place are good, but the fabric needs some work. A nice little manor house, big enough for a growing family. Good land, if gone to the dogs. Half a dozen tenant farmers who are badgering me to address the problems the last people left behind.”
“So why don’t you?”
“I am. I’m asking you to devote some of that famous naval efficiency to turning the place around. You’d be doing me a favor.”
“I’m not sure...” Although despite the way Silas’s offer made his pride prickle, he was powerfully tempted. The prospect of getting his hands on a neglected estate and turning it into a home made his mind whirl with possibilities.
“It would work for you, too, give you a chance to see if you like the rural life. I know you’ve got a lot of romantic notions of life on the land, the way landlubbers have romantic notions about the sea. But you’ve been in the navy since you were eleven. Try it, see if you can straighten out the estate for me. Then if you like the place and the family is happy there, I’ll sell it to you. The land’s not entailed, so it’s mine to dispose of as I wish.”
“That’s very generous of you.”
“Not at all. By all reports, you’ve got your work cut out. But I think a challenge will keep you interested while you’re finding your feet back on land.”
Robert frowned thoughtfully into the gloomy interior. Could this offer at least a temporary solution to what he did with himself, now he left the navy?
It was odd how few regrets he’d felt when he resigned his captaincy. Since he was a boy, the navy had been his mistress, the perfect place for him to exercise his odd assortment of skills. He’d never wanted any other career.
Like all the Nash offspring, he was clever. He’d shown a precocious gift for mathematics, so he’d taken to navigation with an ease that h
ad astonished his tutors.
He’d also been a lad who hungered for action and adventure. And yes, perhaps less admirable, he could admit now that he’d had a yen to cover his name in glory.
Today, on the other side of his ordeal in South America, he acknowledged how trivial that desire for fame had been. Now he just wanted to retire into obscurity and build a life with the people he loved.