“But he can obtain her money more surely by marrying her,” Kent said.
“Yet he has not approached her as a suitor.”
“That would take a long time to gain the trust of Miss Parish herself and also her uncle and aunt. But if he claims to be her brother, he can whisk her away from their protection and then… who knows what he might do? Gretna, perhaps.”
“Dear Lord! Then she might be in the gravest danger!”
“Precisely.”
Cathcart fell silent. When they moved off again, he said hesitantly, “Look, Atherton, I hope I did not offend you yesterday… suggesting you had no right to take care of Kate. I believe in this case you mean her well.”
“When have I evernotmeant her well?” Kent said sharply, as the two valets studiously gazed out of the window and pretended to be invisible.
“That is between the two of you,” Cathcart said, not looking him in the eye, “but I know you made her unhappy. Whatever happened, it made her read her Bible a great deal, even more than usual, and she often looked as if she had been crying. Perhaps you did not mean to, but you hurt her badly, and if you want my honest opinion, I think she is better off without you. But I can see that you truly care about her, so it is right that you should help to rescue her… if she needs rescuing.”
Kent felt anew all the pain of their disagreement. He had hurt her… made her cry… and it was the very last thing he had ever wanted to do. “Perhaps she is better off without me,” he said in a low voice. “I am trying to be a better man, but… it is hard to change ways that have become ingrained over the years.” A dreadful thought occurred to him. “Are you… do you… I mean, is there… something between the two of you? I would not for the world interfere if—”
Cathcart gave a wry smile. “I like her very well. I would even say that I admire her. I thought her too timid and mouse-like at first, but that night at Corland when you danced the reel with her, I saw then that she could be brought out of her shell. And she is beautiful! That gown she wore — so simple, and yet elegant. But my mother rang such a peal over me! I am the eldest, you see, so I am supposed to marry money and prop up Father’s meagre finances, since he failed to do so. I am not supposed to fall in love with an impoverished cousin.”
“And have you?”
“No. I could do so, believe me, if she had thirty thousand to her name, but not for a mere fifteen.”
“Fifteen? How do you know that?”
“Ten thousand from this Branton fellow, remember? And her mother would have had the same dowry as my mother, since they were sisters. Five thousand in that trust fund of hers, that is all. Not enough for me and not enough for you, either, I wager. But perhaps your father will fund you.”
Oddly, this conversation cheered Kent enormously. Fifteen thousand would bring in… perhaps seven hundred or so a year, and another hundred from Ridwell. That was enough to live on, with care. A manservant, a cook and a couple of maids. Perhaps a gig, although in town they might not need it. Even without his allowance from his father, he and Katy could—
Such foolishness! He would never be able to marry her, for she would never forgive him.
***
Katherinecouldnotsayat what point she began to suspect that all was not as it should be about her brother. There was no single moment of revelation, merely an unease that began as soon as she knew she was to leave the safety of her uncle’s house to go to York with him, and slowly grew with every hour that passed. She remembered clearly the words of Bertram Atherton —‘ Can you be sure he truly is your brother? Anyone could just appear and say he was Harold Parish.’And yet, how would anyone know there was any such man, unless he truly was that man? And why would he appear now, so long after he was believed dead? He remembered details of their childhood that she herself had forgotten — like the balloon ascension! She had not seen it herself, but he had described it excitedly to her afterwards, and talked about it so many times. No, he must be her brother.
Still, she could not be easy about it. His loss of memory was very convenient, for it absolved him from remembering anything personal of their shared childhood, their home, or parents. There was not one detail he volunteered that she could point to and think,‘There! That proves it, for no one else could have known that.’And there were oddities, too. He had been lost overboard during the Battle of Cape St Vincent, off the southern tip of Portugal, yet he claimed to have ended up in a French fishing village. He had been there for ten years, although he had acquired not a word of French. It was all very unsettling.
Yet he seemed to have plenty of money, and they were staying in a very luxurious hotel in York. Each morning, they viewed houses available to rent, and each evening discussed the advantages and deficiencies of each one. There was no rush, Harold said. They could take their time to find just the perfect house. She did not much care for Harold’s valet, a dour-faced man who said little, and those few words in an impenetrable accent, but she had Daisy with her, whose excitement at being in York was infectious.
In the afternoons, Harold went off alone to deal with what he described as‘business matters’, which Katherine took to be banks and attorneys, and establishing himself in the town. She passed the time by shopping with Daisy, or else stayed in their comfortable parlour beside the fire, reading.
On the third day in York, the rain pattering persistently on the windowpanes, the maid came in to tell her that a man wished to see her. The card she handed Katherine was for a Mr John Nesbitt, attorney-at-law.
“It will be about one of the houses we viewed,” Katherine said. “Show him up, Molly.”
Mr Nesbitt was a neatly dressed man of around forty, who greeted Katherine politely, accepted a glass of sherry and took the opposite chair beside the fire.
“I am glad to find you on your own, Miss Parish, because I wanted to ask you a question without your brother’s presence. I understand he has recently returned after many years’ absence, and has no papers to prove his identity.”
“Surely he has his discharge papers from the navy,” Katherine said, in some surprise.
“No. He was unable to furnish me with any such documents. But as his sister, you will be able to vouch for him, I am sure. You will be able to assure me that this man is indeed your long-lost brother.”
Katherine hesitated. “Why do you need my assurance? I am sure his money is sufficient assurance to rent a house.”
“Renting a house? No, that was not his business with me, Miss Parish. Now that he has returned, he wishes to claim his share of the inheritance. There is a large trust fund, I understand? Naturally, I cannot undertake such work unless I am confident that the gentleman is who he says he is. I advised him to go to his home town — Branton, is it not? — and find someone there who recognises him. That is the sensible thing to do, but he seemed reluctant. So you are the only one who can vouch for him.”
“I? But I have not seen him since I was six years old, and that only briefly. I was but four when he left home to join the navy. I cannot confirm his identity, not beyond all doubt. He must go to Branton.”
