Chapter Eight

While Sir Jasper was in no great need of a rich heiress to marry, he had overheard Miss Catherine expressing a desire to bring more to her marriage

than the thousand pounds that had so far been accumulated for her dowery, and the same when her Mama passed. That, at least, Sir Jasper had the power to help with.

It had not been as easy as he expected. Two of the solicitors he approached had refused to believe that Miss Catherine had been the mind behind the invention. A third had believed it, but scoffed at the idea of letting her have the credit in her own name. The list of people that Sir Jasper was going to refuse business with in the future was becoming longer than he would like.

Mother was sympathetic, having been in Miss Catherine's shoes herself, but pragmatic to a fault. "Find a Solicitor who works with female merchants and businesswomen. They may have their prejudices, but they care more about getting paid than they do about who is handing over the coin."

That was good advice, and led Sir Jasper to a Mr. Smith, who had handled the recent export of a patent by the American Mrs. Kies [2] for use by British Milliners and their suppliers. Apparently, Colonial Bureaucrats were still holding a grudge over the Revolution, almost a generation ago, now. Sir Jasper made an appointment for later that afternoon, after the Satire exhibition.

Political Cartoons had always been a favourite part of the newspaper, but Sir Jasper was almost surprised at just how much variety there was in the satirical artworks on display.

Caricatures abounded, of course, but there was also an oil painting of an elaborate fruit bowl filled with cluster-fruit stems, apple cores and fruit stones, with the tongue-in-cheek title ‘ Aftermath of a growing boy '. On a pedestal nearby stood a series of clay and glass miniatures; a frog in a delicate tiara, forelimbs placed crossly on what might have been guessed to be its waist. A dancing slipper with a broken heel. Miss Catherine laughed, "Someone was inspired by popular fairytales, I see."

Oh, a princess who was turned into a frog after being promised a handsome prince if she kissed the amphibian, and gentle mockery of the very idea of trying to dance all night in glass slippers. "Ah. After the caricatures, my mind was on politics and philosophy."

Miss Catherine slipped her arm into his. "Artwork does not always need to be deep and meaningful. I have entire sketchbooks filled with nothing more than whatever made me smile to draw it."

That was true enough. They turned into the next gallery, filled entirely by drawings, paintings and the occasional screen of classical artworks made parody by some humorous twist. Some were subtle, some not at all, but they were quite good.

The next hall was dedicated to statues, and Miss Catherine hastily averted her eyes from someone's very detailed idea of the alternate meanings of ‘ political congress' . "The exhibition might have been better if there was some kind of theme beyond just ‘satire', but I suppose it would have been hard to narrow down."

A rather cunning two-faced statue, trying to cram as many dualities as possible into a single sculpture, was much safer to look at. "Not to mention the arguments on whether or not something fit the theme. Anyone with rhetorical training can make a halfway convincing argument, whether or not it's grounded in facts."

Miss Catherine closed her eyes in a kind of remembered pain. "You were fortunate enough to miss our cousin Collins's visit. He would argue whatever viewpoint his noble patroness instructed, and convince himself it was purest truth."

Everyone had relatives that they would rather avoid. Sir Jasper was lucky that his had moved to the Americas. "I shall be glad to avoid the acquaintance, then."

***

Mr. Smith was an unremarkable sort of man with a remarkably keen mind and a sharp eye for detail, but no particular taste for polite small-talk.

He quizzed Miss Catherine on her designs with a rigour that reminded Sir Jasper of his university examinations. She held up very admirably, but faltered on some of the technical terms, and her hesitations made it clear that she had never been taught to debate or defend a stance.

Of course, she would not have. Ladies' Seminaries taught polite conversation and deflection, not academic debate or scholarly defence, and Miss Catherine had no brother to have passed on the techniques while complaining about his professors. Sir Jasper cleared his throat. "Forgive me, but would you ask these questions of a gentleman, as well?"

Mr. Smith raised a disapproving eyebrow. "As a matter of fact, I would. Not all patent applicants are as detailed as yours in where they got their ideas, and I must be thorough in order to be assured that they are not infringing on an existing patent."

Miss Catherine nodded, apparently un-offended. "My father had books on the foundations of mechanics, and one on Da Vinci's sketches. The rest, I admit, was largely trial and error based off my interpretation of drawings, as I had no formal schooling on the subject. Rather a lot of error, actually. Did Da Vinci ever patent his inventions?"

Mr. Smith appeared slightly less stern, perhaps due to the fact that neither had erupted in outrage. "Some of them, but I believe it has since expired. Do you recall which of your father's books you read?"

She named the titles, and Mr. Smith nodded. "I am aware of them. There are no patented works within them, but they do give a good grounding on the subject. Now, had you thought on the subject of licensing fees?"

Miss Catherine looked rather relieved that the questioning was over, but rallied quickly. "What amount might a Cartwright earn in a year? I have no desire to have my works be too expensive to use."

Cartwrights were the most likely to use her invention, at least at first. "A skilled craftsman might expect to earn up to two hundred pounds a year. More, if he has apprentices or sons to assist him and make the work go faster."

Miss Catherine nodded decisively. "Then they will very easily be able to afford six shillings as a flat fee. My brother Bingley is not the only factory owner in the North, perhaps we could farm out the manufacturing, and split the profit."

Sir Jasper could very easily make inquiries on that front, or pass the project off to his younger brothers to keep them busy. "A worthwhile prospect, but for that, you'd do better to look at Liverpool or Newcastle; those are the great metalworks ports."

Mr. Smith made a note, then rose to his feet. "I will submit the paperwork this afternoon, and keep you advised."

They took their cue and Sir Jasper extended a hand. "Thank you for your time, I look forward to hearing from you."

***

The theatre was an experience, with Mr. Bennet whispering quietly to his wife, and Mrs. Bennet making an effort to keep her laughter quiet enough not to disturb the performance. Miss Mary seemed as though she would prefer one of Shakespeare's Histories to the bawdier Comedy [3] , but appeared to enjoy herself. Miss Catherine was all delight, and her pleasure quite infectious.

Sir Jasper hoped that she found equal enjoyment in tomorrow's lectures.