Fortune’s Final Folly

by McKnight, Christina

  “I do not want you to leave Cheapside.” The edge that had entered his tone before was gone, the words leaving on a resigned exhale as whatever had been pent up within him dissipated.

  His confession slammed into her as if she’d run into a brick wall. Her head swam, and her stomach began another round of flutters.

  He did not want her to leave…

  The notion that he truly did feel a similar draw to her as she did to him was at once invigorating and terrifying.

  “I do not want to leave”—you—“Cheapside either. It is my home…the only life I know. But if there is no other option. I would be foolish not to consider it.”

  Had he not followed a course different than what his life should have taken? As the son of a duke, he was entitled to live a life free of labor. To spend his days and nights enjoying everything Kate had been denied. Yet, Joshua had taken a different course, a difficult one, and had thrived.

  Would he deny her the same opportunity?

  “I think it is far too soon to consider such a drastic move, that is all, Kate.” Whatever had transpired between them—his confession, her longing, her doubts—fled as quickly as it had come, yet his stare remained locked on her as if she considered fleeing London that same night.

  Joshua hastily stood, readying to depart.

  Kate longed to ask him to stay…even for just a bit longer.

  Being alone with her thoughts was not what she wanted. To be with Joshua, in her private room, discussing any matter of import was what Kate desired. More time for them to be a we and not individuals whose paths had crossed by folly. Something more. Their connection fated long before they met.

  Joshua had already done so much for her, and all she’d done in return was keep him from his responsibilities: his clients, his work, and his home. Now, he was burdened with her future. She could see it in his eyes.

  While it gave Kate some peace to know she had Joshua’s backing in whatever decision she made, it was nice to share the weight of it all with him. She was clearly asking too much of him, but she was helpless to avoid it.

  This notion of depending on another was new to her. That it was Joshua made the need all the more tempting.

  “Sleep well, my lord,” she offered, standing. “I shall be ready to depart at our usual time in the morn.”

  He halted, taking her in from head to toe before glancing into the hearth behind her. The quick move did not stop Kate from noticing the look in his eyes. It was a look she was becoming all too familiar with, though she was not certain what it meant. She could not stop herself from taking a step toward him. His stare darted back to hers when she did.

  Reaching out, she took his hand, his skin warm and smooth against hers.

  For a brief moment, she pictured her lips on the bare skin of his wrist similarly to how he’d pressed his to her flesh at his office off Bond Street.

  His penetrating stare told her he wanted to remain as much as she wished to ask him to stay.

  In that moment, the boundaries and differences that separated them evaporated. She was merely a woman…and he a man.

  Class, wealth, influence—none of it meant anything.

  Kate felt it to her core. She’d always known it. Her father had taught her that when everything was stripped away from a person, the heart was all that was left. It was what loved another, where kindness and compassion originated from, and what would ultimately determine where a person would go in the afterlife.

  Joshua was not being awarded anything for assisting her. His offer of friendship came from the purest of intentions. There was no other choice but to believe him—in him.

  She inhaled sharply. Despite their differences in station, Kate wanted more than friendship.

  It was something she’d always longed for—more than a mere acquaintance.

  A confidant. A trusted friend. A person to share her hopes and dreams with.

  Someone that could understand that she was more than a teacher, more than a vicar’s daughter, more than…

  He released her hand, and she felt the connection between them slip away once more.

  But she wasn’t ready for that. She wasn’t prepared to be alone again.

  Kate never wanted to return to her solitary life above the schoolroom.

  Could it be that Joshua sought more too but was afraid to voice his desires?

  She lifted her hand, still warm from his touch, and allowed her finger to graze his cheek. It had been a long day, and she could feel the prickly hairs at his jawline, but that did not deter her. It intrigued her. She wanted to touch more of him, not only his cheek.

  “Kate?” His gaze held hers as his hand cupped her face, splaying his fingers against her cheek. “This is…”

  “Unseemly and ill-advised?” she whispered.

  In response, Joshua stepped forward until there was barely an inch separating them, and a new spark lit his stare. With agonizing slowness, he removed her hand from his cheek, but he did not release it. He placed a kiss on the inside of her wrist again. His warm lips pressed gently into her flesh, so softly Kate did not dare close her eyes, afraid she’d miss the sight and wonder later if it had actually happened or if it were only another of her wayward dreams.

  “Nothing about this—or us—is unseemly.” He kissed her again, this time on her palm. “If anything, it is untimely as we have been attributing all our attention to your situation and not our situation.”

  “Our situation?” Kate’s head swam with the implications, struggling to make sense of everything Joshua was saying. Her feelings—about him, at least—were not new, and they only intensified with his proximity. How had she ever gone about her business across the street from Joshua without realizing her attraction? “The timing?”

  “You are a guest in my home, Kate.” He sighed. “I have no right to press my company on you or invade your chamber as I have.”

  “I invited you in.” And she was not ready for him to depart.

  “Yes, but—” He stepped away, dropping her hand when he did, and paced toward the hearth, pivoting and stalking the room until he halted before the door. “I should go. Please, excuse my impetuous behavior. Until tomorrow.”

  When he fled the room, he took all the air with him, and Kate strained to breathe in his absence, her chest aching within the constraints of her bodice.

  Yes, but…

  “Yes, but…what?” She wanted to scream after him.

  Kate’s mind went over and over the many nights she’d stared down from her window, watching the lights extinguish in his office and waiting to catch a quick glimpse of Joshua before he climbed into his coach and headed off into the invading twilight. She longed to know where he went, what he did, and who he spent the long nights with. Her cheeks blossomed with heat at the many times she’d dreamt of running down the stairs, into the street, and hopping into his coach before it rolled away. There had been so many times she’d caught his eye as he walked across the street and wished to wave him inside her schoolroom. There had been ample time for them to become better acquainted, but neither of them had crossed the invisible line that’d kept them separated without either of them realizing it.

  Now, she had answers to at least two of those musings. He came to Cavendish Square, and he remained alone.

  As she had each and every night since her parents’ passing.

  They were more similar than anyone would expect.

  And Kate had a feeling Joshua relished being alone about as much as she did…

  Which meant, not at all.

  Chapter 10

  Zeta clutched the missive in her hand as she took hold of her satchel, stuffed with all her worldly possessions. It had never mattered to her that she had nearly nothing to call her own. Her years with the caravan had been about mutual survival for everyone, not about each individual. But that time was gone now—there was something that belonged to her, and only her.

  And it was past time she reclaimed what was hers.

  With Lavinia’s p
assing the previous spring, Zeta had nearly given up hope of ever finding Katherina. The harsh winter that’d followed had seen the entire caravan stranded near the Scottish border with few supplies. Thankfully, the snowstorm had passed after a few days, and the high snow drifts had melted with a swiftness Zeta had never witnessed in all her years traveling the land. Since then, they’d spent the year near Westmorland in an area that was more accepting of their vagabond existence.

  Zeta had sent a letter to Augusta at Shrewbury, as she often did when she found herself in a town for longer than a fortnight or two. Yet, in the last seven years, she’d never gotten any word back from the maid. Which only meant that nothing had changed. Katherina’s whereabouts were still unknown. Zeta refused to believe that it meant anything else. She had to trust that Augusta was still employed at Shrewbury and that she remained focused on locating Katherina.

  With blessed relief, Zeta’s trust in the woman had finally come to fruition.

  A letter had arrived with the afternoon mail coach from Manchester, much to Zeta’s utter disbelief. In it was the information she’d been waiting for all these years.

  She walked to the far side of the wagon where her horse waited, saddled, and ready to depart. Hefting her satchel up onto the horse’s back, she tied the bag tight for her long ride, checking to make sure she’d tucked her provisions inside as well as the spare coins the group had collected for her journey.

  Normally, they all traveled together, but there was no time to ready everyone and make the four-day journey by wagon. Time was imperative, and it never failed that a wheel would break, or a horse would go lame. Zeta cared for everyone, but this was her journey to make, and she could not have anything slowing her down. They all understood and supported her decision.

  Zeta—no, her name was A’laya, and she needed to get used to it again—took in the gathered men and women around her. Some had been part of the caravan before her, while others joined over the years. Regardless, each and every one held a special place in her heart.

  “Ye shall return if ye doona be find’n her?” Charlie asked. The man was young but capable. He’d taken on the task of hunter for the group, and since he’d come to them, they’d never gone without food. “We will wait here for ye ‘til the cold hits…then we travel to Liverpool.”

  Earlier, she’d begged them to do what was best for them, not wait in Westmorland for her return. Because, if what Augusta had written was correct, A’laya would not be returning. The caravan was a fiercely loyal lot, and she’d always appreciated their dedication…but her time with them was at an end, even if Charlie and the others were not immediately accepting of the fact.

  The mare stomped her hoof, and A’laya’s heartbeat increased, her nervousness matching the beast’s anticipation even as her body ached already thinking of the long ride ahead. She’d asked to take the youngest horse for the journey, knowing the broader ones were needed to pull the wagons. The mare had also proven fast with the endurance required to make the trip quickly.

  Tucking Augusta’s letter into her pocket, A’laya gave hugs all around, knowing that this might very well be the final time she saw any of them. Next, she mounted her mare and looked down the long road ahead of her.

  It was late September, and the weather would be warm.

  She had enough coin in her satchel to find a room for the night where she could bathe and prepare for the final day’s ride into London.

  She waved to the caravan and prodded her horse into action as she leaned close to the beast’s neck. They flew South to Stuart and Lords, Solicitors, near Bond Street. Augusta had written of a young clerk who’d arrived at Shrewbury seeking the duke. The butler had turned the man away, and he’d started back toward London, but not before Augusta had detained the clerk for a private word.

  He’d carried a letter with him, addressed to the Duke of Shrewbury from a Lord Joshua Stuart, Solicitor on behalf of one Miss Katherina Elliott.

  Her daughter!

  The old duke had spoken the name Elliott all those years ago. She’d been unable to trace a family with the name, but now she knew they were in London, or at least their solicitor was.

  The wind whipped at A’laya’s hair, and her cheeks grew moist as tears of utter joy slipped down her face to be carried off on the breeze.

  This solicitor knew A’laya’s daughter, but how well? What could he have been writing the duke about? Had her daughter known of the treachery surrounding her disappearance from A’laya’s arms?

  There were so many questions. But A’laya felt in her heart that the man held the answers she needed.

  The metal between her breasts heated against her skin as if it suspected that A’laya’s path of life was finally about to be complete once more.

  The lord could be the man responsible for helping Walter and Henrietta hide Katherina from her all these years. But that didn’t matter now. The duke and duchess were gone. Pierce, the coward, hadn’t been heard from since she spotted him at the pier in Portishead several years prior after she’d heard rumors of his return to England. There was nothing left to hide. No one left to keep A’laya from Katherina.

  As she rode, pushing the mare ever faster—harder—she imagined what her precious daughter would look like. Would she recognize her on sight? Did she have A’laya’s dark, Barbadian skin tone? Had her eyes remained that greyish-blue from her infancy or had they changed? Had she felt as out of place as A’laya had in the small village she’d grown up in?

  It was very likely, especially if the duchess had any part in Katherina’s upbringing. It was possible her daughter had never been taught anything of her heritage.

  There was time, A’laya reminded herself.

  Katherina would only be nineteen—not much older than A’laya had been when she met and wed Pierce.

  The surefooted rhythm of her mare’s hooves increased A’laya’s confidence. This would be the journey—her last one—and she’d finally be reunited with her daughter.

  All the many years she’d spent handing out fortunes for a pittance hadn’t prepared her for her own fate. She’d passed on hope and sage advice to many but had never truly believed she would one day receive the word she’d been longing for all these years.

  Nothing remained in A’laya’s way but the distance she needed to travel to London.

  Not the duke, not the duchess, not Pierce, and most certainly not Lord Joshua Stuart, Solicitor.

  Chapter 11

  The afternoon was fast nearing twilight when Joshua waved Henry off for the night, pulling his own jacket on as he prepared to collect Kate from across the street. In the nearly two weeks since the fire, they’d settled into a routine. They would travel to Cheapside each morning with the rising of the sun, she’d used his back office to teach lessons, the children would depart at noon, and then Kate worked alongside the men to repair her home. Most days, she forbade Joshua from joining her because, as she declared, she’d inconvenienced him enough by allowing her to stay at his townhouse and teach in his office.

  Some days, he listened and did his best to concentrate on his work. Other days, he pushed off most tasks or assigned them to Henry and rolled up his sleeves to help Kate.

  And then, each night, they returned to his townhouse. Together.

  Yet, he hadn’t invaded her private chambers again. She was basically without a home, and he would not be responsible for pushing her away. They hadn’t spoken about their shared moment in her chambers. And he’d needed to remind himself of his duty as a gentleman on several occasions.

  Nothing had changed as the days passed, but Joshua became more and more accustomed to having Kate in his life, in his home, and in his office. If she strayed, it was only across the street to her schoolroom. She was always within sight.

  Except, she avoided being alone with him outside of their travel and meals.

  He’d spent so many years divided from his family, he hadn’t realized how much he missed having someone to talk to, to dine with, and to share the day-to-d
ay goings-on. But not simply anyone. At home, he’d always had Dolly close. And at his office, Henry was his constant companion. No, it wasn’t just someone.

  It was Kate.

  Companions, work associates, and his grandmother’s dear friends, while good people, were not what Joshua needed. He needed Kate…only her.

  Before the fire, he remained at his office as late as possible, returning home to find his bed long after dark. But now, he found he needed to occupy himself so as not to declare that they return to Cavendish Square too early. In his home, Joshua had Kate to himself. He needn’t share her with the crewmen or Henry or her students.

  It was selfish, and Joshua knew it.

  In his quest to set himself apart from his lineage, Joshua had only succeeded in isolating himself from his family and the men he’d once considered friends. However, the daily life of a lord did not interest Joshua in the slightest. Men of his age and station were comfortable living off their allowances, wooing women they never intended to wed, and spending their free time at gaming hells.

  How many friends had he met at Oxford, only to part ways once they took their places in society?

  Certainly, he’d been introduced to many gentlemen of his league as they came to work at Stuart and Lords, but they were not his friends. Despite their equal share partnership, they all viewed him as their employer—as did Henry, Chapman, and his stable hand.

  There was Dolly, but Joshua could ask nothing more of his grandmother’s aging friend.

  As his and Kate’s time together lengthened, Joshua found it increasingly difficult to keep himself from wanting to spend more hours of his day with her. He’d known since the moment he made her acquaintance years earlier that she was intelligent and had a kind heart. Though it hadn’t been until she lived under his roof that Joshua learned just how caring and compassionate she was. She worried about her schoolroom because she wanted her pupils to learn and go on to live happy, successful lives—not because she would be without a home if it couldn’t be repaired.