The Rum Rabbit
an excerpt

Ren looked at the letter and managed to refrain from crumpling it up in a heap and throwing it at the wall. Her brother was such an idiot. She loved her family with all her heart, but sometimes they couldn’t think past the ends of their pointy noses.

Her father had been sick of some wasting thing the doctors all called different things and had different treatments for. But, what it boiled down to was a hale and hearty man with a brilliant mind spent three years slowing down and wasting away. His eldest son ran half the business from Jamaica, the next eldest was a Captain of one of the fleet’s vessels and Ren was at home taking care of father, house and business.

She’d been running the show for the last year. She knew the suppliers, the sailors, the purchasers and her fellow merchant families. Going westbound she decided on routes, cargos and captains. She set the pirate pay off price. Her brother handled east bound, everything that came back to the port of Plymouth. He handled the ransoms, the ship repairs since the workers in Jamaica were so much cheaper, and anything that wasn’t too dire to wait.

And now, with father passed along, Ren had continued to run the show. The business had seen no difference, really, except that Ren wore mourning colours and she was able to sneak better deals out of everyone with a few artful tears. Then the first letter had shown up. Her brother saying he was taking over everything, thank you very much, and she was no longer obligated to take care of things at her end so she could pursue more womanly pursuits. She supposed that meant getting married, getting fat and birthing a dozen babies. He’d added in afterthought that his agent, his wife and the children were coming to England so the children could get a ‘proper education’ and survive in a ‘proper climate.’

If you asked Ren, she would rather have grown up in sunny and storm tossed Jamaica than England, land of rain and blistering sun. Seemed the sunny spring days and painted autumn days were just a flash in the pan, most of the days were just grey, humid and gloomy. Her bones already ached at the thought of autumn to come and the buds were barely on the trees yet. Mists in the wee hours, rain in the morning, sunny breaks in the afternoons, and the grass, trees and flowers grew. She supposed she’d miss the ancient rose covered manor. For, when queried where exactly she was supposed to take up these suggested activities, her fat head of a brother had replied ‘Well, I suppose you’ll have to come here then.’

Damn this stupid male run society. Her life belonged to her father while he was alive and now it belonged to her brother while he was here. Worse yet, the letter which had come in with his brand new agent, couldn’t be far ahead of his wife and bratty little snot nosed wretches who were taking over HER house. Managing not to crumple up the letter and saying a thousand dock phrases under her breath, Ren plastered her best smile on her face. “Well, I suppose I should introduce you around and show you the ropes.”

“That will not be necessary, miss. I am familiar with Master Miller’s operation in Jamaica and know how it shall be run at this end as well.” Was the man’s stiff reply with a disdainful sniff.

~Jackass.~ was all Ren thought for a moment of disbelief. “Well, I won’t bother telling you how different the climate and people are from England to the Caribbean then. I won’t inform you of standard practices or even where you can find the books and catalogues. Why, I’m sure you can even find the sellers market, the buyer’s hall and all steps in between on your own. I’m sure you’ll find the suppliers without help or assistance, since you apparently don’t need either with attitude displayed so far. Good thing too, because I doubt you’ll get it.” She spun on her heel and flounced up the stairs.

Unfortunately, not fast enough not to hear the “Women. So emotional. It’s amazing the business has done so well under her care for so long.”

Ren was glad she had neither gun nor sabre to hand and with extreme will kept going up the stairs to her rooms to pack.