After that, all Katherine’s doubts were swept away, and if his memories of Branton were sparse, at least they were real.
On any other subject, he was articulate. He spoke of his time in London, being physicked by naval doctors until they decided he was beyond any further aid and discharged him. Several friends there had known him before his disappearance, and they had told him of his parents’ deaths, and that Katherine had gone to their uncle and aunt. He had stayed there until he felt well enough to tackle the journey north.
When he spoke of their future together, he became quite eloquent. A small house in York, he thought, with three or four servants. A town would provide competent physicians to monitor his continuing recovery, as well as amusements for both of them.
“We can go to the assembly room, sister dear, and find a husband worthy of you,” he said merrily.
He was keen to leave almost immediately, but Katherine hesitated. At the back of her mind was the thought that if she went to York now, she would never see Kent again, and so she resisted. But her aunt soon made it clear that she expected her to go.
“Your uncle and I accepted responsibility for you in the spring because we thought you had no one else, dear,” she said to Katherine, coming to her room at the end of the evening to talk to her privately. “We were glad to do it, and I always hoped that we would succeed in getting you satisfactorily settled. We made no distinction between you and our own girls in that regard. But now that your brother is here to take care of you… well, we must step aside, naturally. Your brother is the proper guardian for you. Little as we like to see you go, it is for Harold to make a home for you and make provision for your future. The world would look very much askance at us if we were to come between the two of you.”
“I understand, aunt,” Katherine said sadly.
“You are a good girl, and deserve better than all this jumping about from place to place. I am so sorry to lose you again, I cannot tell you! However, you are such an amiable soul, you will make new friends very quickly, just as you did here and at Helmsley. And at York, you know… well, in the much wider society there, and with your brother’s wealth, you will be bound to make an excellent match. We would have taken you there ourselves in the spring with Aveline. Now we shall be able to visit you in your new home.”
So Katherine made no protest. To York, it seemed, she was to go.
***
Kentfoundhimselfeffortlesslydrawn into Branton’s society. Mrs Vance knew everyone of importance in the town and designated her five sons-in-law to take care of Kent and ensure he was kept well entertained. Thus he found his days filled with visits to mills and manufactories and warehouses, and he never once dined at the inn. All that was required of him in return was that he mention from time to time his father the earl, or his cousin the duke, or his two brothers-in-law, both viscounts. Brantonians were not unduly deferential, but they had an insatiable curiosity about the nobles in their castles, who helped the King to rule their land. They never expected to meet any of them, but Kent was an excellent substitute and they were determined to make the most of him.
He rapidly developed an admiration for these sturdy men of industry and commerce, who might never have ventured beyond the bounds of Lancashire, but they read the newspapers, and talked in their offices and parlours and clubs of everything that happened, and they were not afraid to give their opinions with spirit. Kent had deeper discussions in Branton dining rooms than he had ever encountered at Corland, for his family was not politically active. If Kent had ever had a full season in town, it might have been different, but he felt he had found a society in Branton that was alive in a way that he had never seen before.
It helped, of course, that he could talk to these men about machinery, and their eyes did not glaze over as his father’s would have done, or his brothers’. For them, it was all horses or guns or the possibilities for the harvest. It was a joy to Kent to talk instead about coal and valves and canals and the price of wool or cotton. At least, the Brantonians talked, and he listened and asked endless questions and learnt vast amounts, while realising just how ignorant he was.
His greatest delight was in finally seeing the beam engines that had fired his imagination for so long. Mr Ridwell, the new owner of the Parish mill at Longfarley, showed him around personally, and then handed him over to the engineer who explained the workings of the engine. And Kent stood, mesmerised, watching it at work, the beam far above his head rising and falling, the massive wheels spinning, the valves opening and closing, and all accompanied by whirrings and clangings and whooshes of steam, so loud that he could barely hear himself think. Beneath his feet, the very ground shook, and he could feel the vibrations deep in his chest, as if its power was so great that it infiltrated everything within range.
For an hour or more he stood, awestruck, and felt that he had come home. This, this place of wonder and energy and majesty, was where his destiny lay.
“Have you any work suitable for a useless ignoramus like me at Longfarley?” he asked Ridwell, when he could finally be torn away from the great engine. “My paltry skills with broken fountains and clocks are inadequate to equip me to tend the noble beast that powers your mill, but perhaps you have some other work I might do? At least then I would be near to the engine.”
Ridwell regarded him thoughtfully. “An earl’s son can always be found a position, Mr Atherton. I could use a general manager. John Wilson is getting on, and he would be happy to retire in two or three years. You would be ready to take over by then. If you stay so long, of course. A hundred pounds a year while you’re learning, if you find your own accommodation.”
“That would suit me very well,” Kent said. “I shall have to talk to my father.”
“Will he refuse to let you do this?”
“I am of age, so he has no power to prevent me. No, I need to find out if he will continue my allowance. If so, I can afford a modest house. If not, I shall live in two rooms above a bakery or some such.”
Ridwell laughed. “Very well. Let me know when you will be free to start.”
Fired with enthusiasm, Kent went straight off to talk to an attorney about somewhere to live. He remembered Mr Gray from the funeral, who had also appeared at some of the dinners to which Kent had been invited, so he started there.
Gray’s offices were rather imposing, situated between a bank and a large bookseller. Kent was ushered politely into a room gleaming with mahogany furniture, the desk adorned with a silver standish.
“Ridwell, eh? Why him?” Gray said, when he heard about the scheme.
“Is there any reason I should not work for him?” Kent said.
“No, no. Ridwell’s perfectly sound, but… well, he keeps to himself as a rule. Has one of the fancy new houses on the hill and has ambitions for that daughter of his. Plans to take her to London and see if he can’t get a lord for her. Mind you, she’s a beauty, no doubt about it, and whoever marries her will get Cragforth mill. Might be worth your while…”
“I will bear that in mind,” Kent said diplomatically. “I wondered if you know of any property I might rent.”
“Furnished or unfurnished?”
“Either would suit me. Nothing too large, but suitable for a family… if I should marry in the future.”
“Ah,” Gray said knowingly. “If you don’t mind unfurnished, I have just the thing on the Lancaster road. Very convenient for church and the better shops, and the market is only a short walk away. In excellent condition, a good size for a family and most elegantly appointed. Mrs Parish always had exquisite taste. The owner died last Christmas… oh, but you know Katy Parish, of course?”
