Kent’s throat was unexpectedly tight. “I… do, yes.” He could live in Katherine’s —Katy’s— own house! And if he should marry her— But he did not dare to contemplate such a glorious future.
Mr Gray showed him over the house himself, and although the rooms were empty and sad, he could imagine Katy and her father living there. He identified the bedroom that assuredly had been hers, in his mind he filled a corner of the drawing room with her pianoforte and music cabinet, and he imagined her sitting in the dining room eating the plain dishes that she preferred.
“The bank owns it, but they won’t consider taking less than sixty guineas a year for it, given the size and position of it, and in excellent condition, too, although for such a distinguished gentleman as yourself, I might persuade them down to fifty,” Gray said. “It’s a good family house, as you can see. The Parishes never had but the two children, but there’s room for plenty more.”
That gave Kent the delightful vision of Katy with her children gathered around her. She would be a wonderful mother, he decided. But such thoughts were too enticing. More likely was a future where she never spoke to him again, and she would be entirely justified. He was a despicable worm, not fit to crawl on the ground at her feet. But perhaps, if he applied himself to a career in Branton, he might one day aspire to be a good, honest man, and leave his history as a smuggler behind.
That night at dinner with several of his new friends, he mentioned the possibility that he might rent the Parish house, and that brought forth an outpouring of memories of the family. Mr Parish, a down-to-earth, good-hearted man, who took excellent care of his workers. Mrs Parish, from a grand family to the north, with refined ways but never high in the instep. Harold, the son, a bouncy, fair-haired child with a wonderful singing voice. And Katy, the quiet daughter, with her talent for music, who had stepped into the breach so ably after her mother died.
Such a charming family, but tragedy had gradually overtaken them. Harold first, lost in the Battle of Cape St Vincent off Portugal, although his body had never been recovered. Then Mrs Parish had died, and only the previous year Mr Parish had been lost, and his entire fortune swallowed up by the debts to the bank. The worthies of Branton shook their heads over it, and lamented the loss, but took it as an awful warning to anyone minded to take out a loan.
Kent knew most of it already, but he never minded hearing about Katherine —Katy!So much more apt a name, he thought, and she was rapidly becoming fixed in his mind as Katy now. So he listened, and although there was pain in the constant reminders, it was far outweighed by the pleasure of hearing how well-regarded she had been.
Kent wrote to his father to tell him of his plans and to ask for clarification of his financial position. He made it clear that he would stay in Branton regardless of the outcome, for he had three thousand pounds of his own money to support him until he was properly established, but he yearned to live in Katy’s house, and that could not be done without his allowance from his father.
Before he had a reply from Corland, however, came news of a very different sort. First, a letter from Olivia.
‘My dear brother, Such an exciting development! Miss Parish’s brother, so long missing after a naval battle that all hope was extinguished, has returned alive and well! After ten years! Is that not astonishing? He is very handsome and charming, and has made his fortune, so they are to set up house together in York. Is that not a pleasing outcome for her? The Cathcarts are well pleased to be rid of her, I dare say, for her elegant manners quite cast a shadow over the not quite so elegantly mannered Miss Cathcart, not to mention her divine performance on the pianoforte. We are all thrilled for her, that she will have a proper home at last where she will be valued as she ought to be, and no doubt you will be very willing to run any little errands that may be required in York in the days to come. We are all looking forward to Bertram’s wedding. There is to be a grand ball here two days before, so you must be sure to return in time for that. Your loving sister, Olivia.’
Kent had barely had time to digest that when Mr Gray returned from a visit to his Lancaster office in great distress, bearing a copy of a Lancaster newspaper.
“Look! Look at this!” he cried to the guests gathered for dinner at the home of Reggie Cruikshank, one of the Vance sons-in-law.
“Read it aloud, Gray,” Cruikshank said.
“Very well, very well.‘Tragic orphan revealed as great heiress’.That is the headline. Can you guess who is meant by that? Listen, listen.‘Miss Katherine Parish…’Katy, you see! They are talking about our very own Katy.‘Miss Katherine Parish, a young lady of only twenty years, has suffered more tragedy than most in so young a life. After losing her only brother and her mother some years ago, she lost her surviving parent, Mr William Parish, a mill owner of Branton, to a fever last year. The unfortunate lady was thought to be destitute and thrown on the mercy of kind-hearted relations. But fortune has smiled upon her at last, for she is now known to be the inheritor of a substantial fortune. Not only is there a trust fund left to her by her mother, the former Miss Elizabeth Hawley of Shillingburn, but she was also bequeathed the sum of ten thousand pounds in the will of the late Mr Harvey Vance, the much lamented former mayor of Branton, who recently passed away. We congratulate Miss Parish on her recent reversal of fortune, there being no more worthy recipient of such benevolence, given the sorrowful history of her family.’And then they relate the whole of it — all about her childhood, her brother’s loss at sea, her mother’s death and then every detail of the loans being called in. It is despicable, quite despicable!”
“But this is good news, is it not?” someone said. “If Katy has come into a little money, I for one am very pleased for her.”
“And so are we all, naturally,” Gray said, “but no one was supposed to know about it. The will… a will is made public, so I suppose there was no avoiding that, but the trust fund! Parish went to so much trouble to ensure that no one knew of that. Even Katy does not know how much it is worth.”
“How muchisit worth?” Cruikshank said.
Gray heaved a sigh. “I cannot tell you. Indeed, that is the absolute truth, for I do not know myself. Mr Humber at the bank is the only person who knows. Parish always said it was not very much, but he made us all swear never to speak of it, which leads me to suspect that it may be substantial. Parish was doing very well for a while, so he could have laid aside quite a decent pile for Katy. Now here it is all over the newspapers and the poor child will be besieged by fortune hunters. Indeed, Tiller has already— Tiller! That must have been how all this got into the newspapers. He is my clerk, for my sins, and a very poor one he is too, but he has access to the files, and must have seen that there was a trust fund in existence. Well, he will not be my clerk for much longer! Revealing confidential information is the greatest sin an attorney can commit. But beyond that, I do not think there is much we can do about it, except to warn Katy’s uncle to be on the watch for fortune hunters.”
“I fear it may already be too late for that,” Kent said, and told them of the contents of Olivia’s letter. “He has been gone so long, and Miss Parish was so young when he left that she would not remember him. This man could well be an impostor.”
“He sounds like a wealthy man,” Gray said. “Some of these naval men have done very well from prize money and so forth.”
“That may be so,” Kent said, “but the newspaper gives full details of the Parish family, including descriptions. It would not be hard for a man to make a pretence.”
“A suitor would be a concern,” Cruikshank said, “but a brother, even an impostor, cannot hurt her.”
“He could claim his share of the trust fund,” Gray said gloomily. “The terms of the marriage settlement intended Mrs Parish’s money to be divided amongst all the children. Besides, as her only male relative, he could take control of the entire amount, her share as well as his.”
Kent nodded. “This man may be just as he appears to be, but I believe I shall not be satisfied until I have talked to Cathcart about this and met the man for myself.”
24: Deception
MichaelwaiteduntilEustaceAtherton had departed from Welwood in his carriage before examining the tower again. There was no particular reason for that, only that Eustace was the sort of person who would want to know just what he was doing there, and Michael was not minded to explain himself. He took Sandy and James Neate with him, because the more eyes, the better when a place was being searched. Michael no longer took his own infallibility for granted in his investigations. He had had a dismal record lately, and if Sandy or Neate could find something useful, he would be very pleased.
They found the key under the stone, exactly where it had been left. Michael rolled his eyes at the continuing lack of security, but it was certainly convenient for his own purposes. Everything downstairs was much as it had been on his previous visit, except that the cellar was now full of barrels. That was not surprising, and not of interest, so Michael locked up the cellar again and the three of them went upstairs. Sandy looked into every empty room on the way up, but Michael was tolerably sure he would find nothing, and so it proved.
In the top room, Michael said, “Tell me everything you see, anything you notice.”
“There’s a wonderful view of Welwood,” Sandy said at once. “Ye can see most of the drive, the front door, and that must be the stables on the far side. Ye’d see everyone coming and going, and someone’s been watching, look.” He gestured to the telescope, still pointing directly at the house. “Why would anyone want to know who’s been visiting Mr Eustace?”
“To do with the smuggling, presumably,” Neate said. “Michael, what are we looking for, precisely?”
