Chapter 583 Ch582 Brighton's Portie

Chapter 583 Ch.582 Porti of Brighton

No dynasty is strong forever.

It makes sense to replace the dynasty with a family.

The Cavendish family, famous in Porti Port, is said to have a jewel surname with gold in every cargo ship, a bottomless pocket that can squander until the end of the world.

In just two generations, after four or five investments, they have become another topic of conversation among people.

They are juxtaposed with jokes that are not worth mentioning, and the declarations of nobility in each generation's bloodline have all become swords for sailors to mock them.

‘It seems that only noble blood is passed down from generation to generation, but wisdom is not. ’

‘Having such wisdom proves that their bloodline is not noble. It’s just a lie. Will someone really crawl out of the grave and slap them? ’

After a night’s rest, the next morning, Randolph and his party took a carriage to Porti Port.

The most famous thing about this seaside city, apart from those annoying "sea robbers" who will peck away whatever you hold in your hand (as long as it looks like food), is the beautiful and famous cobblestone beach, and the "Royal Pavilion" where the Regent once lived for a long time (but now it has been sold to the city council by the supreme fat girl).

Rather than praising the few scenic spots here, it is better to silently sigh at the "prices" of Brighton -

Since this place is mostly regarded as a holy place for health and vacation by the upper class in London, naturally, many affordable products are not so affordable.

For example, the cost of a carriage.

It is even more than one and a half shillings in London - even more surprising than this is that the Cavendish family did not even send a carriage.

"I used to think that some 'respectability' really adds unnecessary trouble to life. But today..." Roland pulled the handrail of the carriage, shaking his head with the rude coachman and his horse son. The bowl of chicken soup he drank in the morning stirred in his stomach, completely restoring the miserable life of this chicken.

Randolph seemed to have expected it.

Since waking up, he has not eaten anything except tearing a corner of dry bread, not even drinking water - Beatrice and Theresa also followed his instructions and got up with only a piece of milk gum.

Roland: "Did you know it a long time ago?"

Randolph was puzzled: "Know what?"

Roland: "...I will vomit on you later."

After bumping and shaking for half an hour, the carriage gradually entered the flat road.

The salty sea breeze seeped in from the window gap, drilled into his arms from the sleeves, and hugged the new guest, and he would not let go.

Beatrice curiously pulled open the curtain of the carriage, pointing to the shop selling fishhooks, and then letting Theresa look at the sweaty sailors with shoulder straps tied on.

Porte de Porte is more "lively" than London - perhaps there is more sunshine, or it is close to the ocean, which makes it convenient for the people who live here for a long time to listen to the tide. Since Roland got on the right track, everything he saw and heard was so vibrant, which was the opposite of London.

The sun above his head basked in the sea breeze, which was mixed with salty and fishy. The salty and fishy smell contained a kind of tiny particles that made people happy and laugh. People who smelled it spoke louder, and when they encountered happy things, they couldn't help but join in.

This was Roland's first impression of Brighton Porte de Porte.

A city that nurtures living people, not an iron coffin like London, and does not welcome a beating heart.

"Big bird!"

Beatrice pointed to the seagulls grooming on the roof.

Theresa hugged her, and the big and small shook their heads, smiling like flowers.

"Maybe you should take Betty and Theresa out more often." Roland said to himself: "I plan to find a vacation and take Yam and Uncle on vacation... Find a warm place with delicious food and good wine everywhere..."

Randolph's eyes swelled, and he used his thumb joint to rub his nose, observing the sun-discolored men on the roadside, the merchants holding straw baskets and hawking, the cats running around, and the children who were more annoying than cats.

The pale golden sunlight penetrated the sweat and dust, and sprinkled in every free eye.

"…I'm too busy, Roland."

"It's just a suggestion. You don't have to look so ready to die." Roland ran his palm along his neck and down to his lower abdomen, trying to smooth out the chicken carcass that was unwilling to die in his stomach. "If you're too busy, maybe I'll take Betty with me when I'm free."

Beatrice heard her name, grinned, and leaned into Roland's arms: "Where to?"

Roland lowered his head and replied to her in a gentle voice: "Take you on a trip, wherever you want to go."

Beatrice thought seriously for a few seconds: "Go far, okay?"

After the girl finished speaking, she seemed to understand the distance issue and a worried look appeared on her pouting lips.

"How do we go?"

"If your brother pays off my debt and gives me money, we'll go by dragon; if he doesn't, and is stingy enough to cover himself in gold, then we'll go by carriage." Roland winked at her: "I'll always find a way to take you there... secretly."

Teresa didn't say anything, but staggered and gave Randolph a look.

'If you had three points of Roland's ability - in words. I'm afraid you would have been married long ago.'

Randolph pretended not to understand.

…………

……

A seaside manor built of white rocks.

When Roland got out of the car with a cane, the chicken soup in his stomach had been shaken evenly. He was sweating a lot, and so was Beatrice, who was holding his arm - but as soon as they left the car, Teresa pulled her away from Roland, lifted her hair, and wiped her face with a small handkerchief.

Roland looked at this simple and clean building complex: "Cavendish House?"

"This is Taylor House, where my father and mother lived."

Randolph adjusted his collar and put on his top hat despite being exposed to the sun.

He looked a little nervous.

"I won't rush to visit Cavendish. If their brains are just a little smarter than pigs... No, they don't need to stand out from the pigs, just an above-average level, they should know what to do. ”

Randolph glanced at Beatrice, his Adam's apple twitching slightly.

"Let's go, Roland. I invite you here, hoping to introduce my father to you - the previous owner of the Taylor family, Bellows Taylor."

Bellos Taylor.

What kind of person is this old gentleman?

A man who can create "golden smoke" with his own hands, step on the deck, and carry tobacco roaring from the sea - Roland should be similar to Fernandez no matter how you think about it.

Physically, and in character.

He should be strong and bold, prefer pipes to cigars, always have a lingering salty smell on his body, have messy hair, a beard that is never trimmed, speak in a rough voice, and wear a wide-faced gold ring--

That’s what the stories say.

"That's a pirate, not a merchant."

-

The story that Yam told me when I was a child is also popular now.

In fact, when the carriage stopped, there was already a servant waiting aside. The manservant fit part of Roland's imagination, with strong arms thicker than Beatrice's waist.

"gentlemen."

The manservant with a short crew cut was hunched over, his skin was dark, and his speech had a special accent, like a wave of waves, long and winding.

"I want lunch to be light," Randolph said, not even looking at him or remembering his name, "and take us to see my father."

The manservant pursed his thick lips, glanced at Beatrice and Roland with his small eyes, and hesitated to speak.

"gentlemen…"

He hesitated.

"Master lost it again."

Roland:?