History

From a young age, there was never any doubt of the expectations Alistair faced. The only son of the Duke of Argyll, in spite of his parents' best efforts, he was treated in turn as precious jewel and marionette. In turn, he was an eager student and a son desperate to prove his worth to his parents.

Though it was also at a young age that it became clear that, perhaps, perfection was not in his cards — he struggled to pay attention to or retain any lessons that didn't interest him, failed to show the same obsession to horseflesh that his father maintained, and was inclined to disappear to the moors and bens when left unattended for too long. To the credit of his tutors, they quickly realized that their teaching was far more successful when they taught outdoors, or integrated the subject matters he was interested in.

(Which isn't to say there weren't other challenges throughout his schooling; mathematics in particular refused to divulge their closest-held secrets to him, and the palms of his hands were often left reddened by his French lessons.)

At eighteen he left home to attend Oxford University, and there he studied a great number of subjects that he cared deeply for – natural history, biology, anatomy and physiology – and was also unfortunately subjected to a great number of classes he found no passion for. Rather quickly he gained a reputation for loudly arguing with professors, and was dismissed from classes more than once for his impertinence. It was a reputation that he discovered made him popular, to a certain extent; and so he leaned into this brash version of himself.

He never earned a full degree, but after completing three years of studies, he briefly returned home to Inveraray. The intention was that, as a newly freed young man, he would return to London to enter polite society and find a wife. That was certainly his mother's plan. Unfortunately for her plans, Alistair's father instead gave him permission to accompany a ship that was intended for the family's sugar plantation in the Caribbean.

It was clear that the intention was that he would accompany it West, and when it departed for Britain again a few days later, he would accompany it home again. Unfortunately, his father failed to expressly order such behavior, and as such the shipmaster delivered a letter instead of the duke's son. Alistair explained that he had found a passion in sailing, and desired to see more of the world. A promise was made that he would return in no more than another year, and it was a promise he kept. Before returning to Inveraray he paid his way onto a ship heading south, along the coast until they ran out of coast to sail along.

Along the way, he spent time in the Amazon rainforest, explored the cities and fields and encampments of the coastal countries, colonies, and civilizations. He saw, albeit from a distance, the shimmering white expanse of Antarctic ice, saw a great number of curious creatures, and as his time was exhausted, began to dread returning home.

But return home he did, making his stipulated deadline by all of three days. Tanned and windworn, lips chapped and knuckles chafed, but bright-eyed and otherwise hale, he recounted his experiences to his father. His mother had been quick to state her dissatisfaction, but Neil Campbell was very familiar with how best to handle his wife's strong opinions. It was later, as they talked on the shores of Loch Fyne, that Alistair could be honest about his own wants and desires for the first time in his life.

A deal was struck. Alistair would spend no more than a few years away at a time, for his parents' peace of mind, and would set aside his traveling when it came time for him to begin assuming more of the duties of the duchy. And, for a time, it was easy for him to keep that promise. He traveled to the eastern coast of Africa, to the Near East, and finally around the Cape of Good Hope and onwards to India and the Far East. Never staying in any one place for too long, ever moving onwards, ever looking for the next exciting adventure.

Along the way he wrote a great number of letters back home; apologizing for not keeping his promise to return home so often, telling of what he'd seen, urging his father to leave behind their ailing plantations and instead embrace trade and modernization. Instead of returning directly home, in 1883 he received permission from his father to begin working towards divestment of their funds, seeking other opportunities to support their family and people. It was a task that Alistair took to with gusto, and in the autumn of 1887 he returned to Inveraray feeling triumphant in his efforts.

It, perhaps, should not have surprised him that he was hardly recognized after so long away. What was far more surprising was that, upon being recognized by the people of the town, he was addressed as Your Grace.

His mother did not mince words when he finally made it home. His father had taken a fall from one of his prized horses, and later that same night dropped dead. That had happened in the spring of 1884, when Alistair was happily galivanting around the Indian Ocean. A letter had been sent, of course, informing him and demanding his return home at once, but never had the courier been able to find him.

The guilt was immense, and it was more than enough to ensure that Alistair's days of roaming were finished. Not only for the duties he had inherited without even knowing — duties that he had, perhaps inadvertently but all the same, been neglecting — but because of the years that he had wasted away from home, and the years that had spent with his father unmourned (by himself, at least).

Alistair has taken the duties of his new office upon himself with full devotion and dedication. It is the future he was prepared for, after all, and he was not inclined to disappoint his mother even further. He is also acutely aware of the kindness his father showed him in enabling his wanderlust and passions, and now he seeks to repay those kindnesses to his father's memory, and become the man his father always hoped he would be.