Fortune’s Final Folly

by McKnight, Christina

  “I belong in Cheapside, Joshua,” Kate countered. It was the same conversation they’d had several times since the fire. “My home is there, I was raised there, and the children need me. It does not matter that the circumstances of my birth have changed.”

  She’d expected him to refute her justifications. They were the same things she’d used to prove that they could not share anything beyond an acquaintance of friendship. He was the child of a duke, which he could not change. Yet, now she’d learned that she’d been born nobility, as well. His childhood and noble birth proved he did not belong in Cheapside, while her upbringing, despite her noble origins, trapped her to a life in Cheapside.

  She was a hypocrite, and she waited for him to accuse her of it.

  “I think the countess needs you more than anyone in Cheapside.” He twined their fingers until they were laced securely together and then squeezed gently. “And, no matter how independent you are, you need her, too.”

  What Kate needed was for Joshua to guide her, to tell her how to fix everything without banishing the few remaining beliefs she had about her past and where her future lay. She longed for him to assure her that everything would be all right. They’d return to his townhouse, find their respective beds for a long night of rest, and in the morning, they’d both awaken to find it had all been a cruel dream—wayward and sinful as it was. How many times had the vicar warned her about longing for a life above her station? How many times had her mother showed her that a pious existence helping others was fulfilling and more than some could ever hope for? Kate should be grateful and not allow her mind to stray to a future anywhere but in her schoolroom. Alone.

  The appearance of Lady De Vere and her harrowing tale of being cast out and abandoned changed nothing. Kate was still near penniless with little more than a damaged building to her name. She should be grateful for how blessed she was to possess what she did when others, many of them her pupils’ families, had so much less.

  The folly of her fortune in life had never been so startlingly laid bare before her as it was now.

  None of what the countess had said should matter, but it did. She’d lived her life allowing others to keep her in the dark—her parents, and to a certain extent, Joshua—all while deluding herself into believing that she had a firm grasp on her life. She’d believed herself independent because she contained herself in a bubble of sorts. Kate had lived without letting anyone in, without allowing anyone to truly know her. In turn, she hadn’t really gotten to know anyone else either. That needed to change. It must, or Kate would have nothing left when the money ran dry. She’d be unable to feed herself, let alone help the children of Cheapside.

  And she’d suffer alone.

  She had little choice but to embrace who she was in all its nuances and explore her past—or risk losing everything.

  Her vision clouded as tears pooled in her eyes at the same time a new, raw clarity settled around her. “What I need, what I’ve always needed, is the truth—no matter how hurtful it is. My parents died without telling me anything of my past…of their past. If they lied to me about so many things, it is possible Mr. Cuttlebottom speaks the truth about the building, and my father did agree to sell my home to him. Who is this woman, the countess? And where did she come from? Why was I unwanted—something to be kept hidden and eventually forgotten? And why all the secrecy behind the bequeathal to the vicar?”

  She fell silent as her questions continued echoing in her mind. Who was she, and what did all of this mean for her future?

  Forgetting everything would be impossible. Continuing as she had before today would be foolish, as well. And accepting her new identity, while heartbreaking and terrifying at the same time, might be a necessity.

  “You are confused,” Joshua whispered. “And rightly so, I fear.”

  “What do I do, Joshua?” She pulled her hands from his and brushed away a tear before it blazed a path down her cheek to betray her fragile state. She’d attempted to handle matters herself, but it had become more and more apparent that Kate needed Joshua. “You’ve guided me of late. You must know what I should do next and what is to come. Do I listen to the woman and forsake my parents, tarnishing their memory? Or should I refuse to listen, cast the woman out, and attempt to forget everything?”

  “There is no easy path or simple answer.” He pressed his fingers to her jaw, lifting her chin. “However, I do know that nothing you learn today can alter who you are. You are still Katherina…sweet, caring, and intelligent. You are a daughter, a friend, and a teacher. None of that has changed. Anything new we learn about your past will only add to what you already are, not take away from it. This is a decision—whatever it is—that you must make for yourself and no one else.”

  Kate wished his words were true, longed for him to be correct because if he were, they’d one day be able to return to how things were before the fire. Before she’d moved into his townhouse, and before Lady De Vere appeared in his office. They’d once more be solicitor and teacher.

  He could remain in her life and she in his.

  She’d lied when she claimed they couldn’t be friends.

  Kate longed to call Joshua her friend, though she desired to be more to him. Her heart longed for him in a completely different manner. To go back to the days when she watched him leave his office at sunset from her bedchamber window and dreamt of where he went at night before she knew of his grand house. Back to the days he’d saunter into her schoolroom with a friendly, bright smile and a hearty joke for the children. Back to the times when she’d wave as she and the children marched down the street toward the bookseller.

  In that alternate reality, Kate could hold fast to him and not ponder the possibility of him leaving her life. She didn’t need to fret over what she would do or where she’d go once her trust was completely depleted. In those days, before she’d discovered that her body, her mind, and her very soul craved him, she hadn’t had to confront the many troubling aspects of her life. Not her suspicions surrounding the vicar and his wife or the holes concerning her heritage. She’d been able to love them as her parents—nothing more and nothing less.

  However, if she entertained a conversation with the countess, everything could—and likely would—change. Accepting her new place as the daughter of nobility might well mean her existence in Cheapside could not continue as it had, even if she attempted to keep everything the same.

  Chapter 15

  The two women—one he’d known for years, and another he’d only just met that day—sat side by side, neither truly seeing what Joshua saw before him. Beyond their distinct appearances, their posture was similar, each tucking one ankle behind the other, hands clasped in their laps. They made a striking pair. Even their voices were of the same light melody he’d come to relish hearing when Kate spoke.

  He imagined how the pair would have taken London society by storm to enchant every lord and gain the envy of most ladies.

  Kate…the daughter of a countess.

  The news changed nothing about how Joshua felt for Kate. She was still the intelligent, compassionate, giving woman he’d known since journeying to Cheapside all those years ago. Be her nobility or a gentlewoman, Joshua did not care. His heart knew not the difference—and his mind agreed. He was not fool enough to think it didn’t matter to those of the peerage, but to Joshua, it was insignificant.

  Her strength had not wavered, even when faced by such life-altering information. If anything, her beauty had multiplied in his eyes. She was not resigned to wear a façade, portraying one thing on the outside while being different on the inside.

  Though she hadn’t known who she was or what her past held, Kate had always had a true sense of who she wanted to be.

  The trio had retired to Joshua’s mother’s favored sitting room immediately upon arriving at Cavendish Square. Joshua had bid a maid to collect Dolly and send her to join them before setting about bringing tea to the sitting room.

  Dolly, ever the perfect lady’s companion, had
entered the room and hardly showed any shock at the older woman’s presence. She hadn’t batted an eye when A’laya had been introduced as the Countess of Holderness, though she preferred simply A’laya. Nor had she so much as flinched when she was told that A’laya was Kate’s mother.

  There was nothing Joshua could do as introductions were completed, tea was served, and the room fell silent.

  Both Kate and the countess picked at the stitching in their skirts.

  It was as if they both dreaded the conversation that was to come, except Joshua could see no reason for either woman to be fearful.

  “Tell me, my lady,” Dolly said, setting her cup on the table at her elbow. “I have always admired Miss Kate’s complexion. It is not the sickly pale that most young women favor of late. I am pleased to note that she gained it from you.”

  Joshua held his breath but was relieved when the countess smiled.

  “Many years ago, my grandmother, Zeta, met a man in Barbados when his ship, the Bonnie Belle, docked near her home.” A’laya paused for a moment, but when Kate seemed to lean closer, taken in by news of her past, the woman continued. “His name was Samson. They fell in love, and she sailed back with him to England. They wed shortly after and started their family.”

  “That is very intriguing.” Dolly sighed, pressing her palm to her chest. “Please, do go on…”

  Joshua noticed that Kate had stopped fussing with her gown, though her fingers trembled.

  He set his hand on hers and squeezed gently. He could not begin to fathom how it felt to have a person walk into your life and tell you that everything you knew about yourself was wrong. That everything you’d grown up believing was not the truth. That every person you loved had kept secrets from you.

  Glancing at Kate, Joshua saw her nod to the countess, her gaze transfixed on the woman.

  “When they returned to England, my grandfather took a position as a steward with Baron Oderton. Years later, my mother fell in love with the baron’s son, my father, Eugene Banesworth.”

  “What a marvelous tale.” Dolly turned to Kate, her grin mischievous and one Joshua knew well. “Can you imagine, Miss Kate? Oh, true love is a blessed thing, is it not, Joshua?”

  His late grandmother’s companion had never been known for her subtlety when she took a notion to heart.

  “It is,” Joshua muttered.

  “And what of you, my lady?” Dolly continued, smiling in A’laya’s direction. “Have you ever wed? From the looks of Kate, her father was a dashingly handsome man, indeed.”

  Joshua silently chastised himself for not having a word with Dolly before she entered the room. He’d only wanted the countess to know that Kate had not been residing under his roof without a proper chaperone.

  A’laya stared down into her tea, steam still rising from the untouched cup. “I did, though I cannot confess it was a marriage based on love.”

  Joshua winced, knowing some of what was to come.

  “The Earl of Holderness was a dashingly handsome lord, but he was not a kind man, nor an attentive husband.”

  “We certainly know a few of those types, don’t we, Joshua?” Dolly’s mouth pinched in a tight frown, and she shook her head. “I have known a few rascals in my day, I can assure you, my lady.”

  A’laya looked up at her daughter, and Joshua would have been a fool not to notice the look that passed between the pair. If he were a betting man, he would guess that it was the first of many the newly acquainted women would share in the days—and years—to come.

  “I wed young, and my naiveté was to my detriment—and Katherina’s.” The countess brought her cup to her lips and took a short, tentative sip before lowering the tea once more. It was only after a deep breath that she spoke again. “Before long, I was with child, and my husband had abandoned me at his family’s home in Oxfordshire. It took many, many years before I even so much as laid eyes on the man again.”

  “You’ve seen him?” Tension had Kate sitting up straight as if a rod had been placed in her spine. “When?”

  A’laya’s eyes narrowed, and Joshua sensed the woman’s unease for the first time. “It was only a few years ago. He arrived by ship, and I got the barest glimpse of him. But you were not with him, and so, he mattered naught to me.”

  Dolly had fallen silent, never one to revel in the misfortunes of others.

  “Did you know anything about your father’s or his mother’s duplicity or of the time when she took you from me?” A’laya’s question was barely a whisper. “What have you been told?”

  “Nothing.” Kate’s voice was resolute. “While I always sensed I was different, I was never told that the vicar and his wife were not my true parents—though they loved me as if I were theirs.”

  The conviction in Kate’s words must have given the countess pause because she did not immediately speak again.

  They’d spoken of A’laya’s past—what she knew, where she’d been, and everything she’d lived through, but they’d not talked about Kate. She hadn’t been cursed with the same fate as her mother. Kate had been loved and well cared for.

  “I feared as much, though I must admit I am relieved to know you had a proper upbringing, even if I was not there for you.”

  “It was not your fault,” Kate said, holding her mother’s stare for several seconds before looking away.

  Joshua wondered where they all went from here as he took in Kate, the countess, and Dolly. They were a motley group with far more in common than most.

  So much needless hurt between them. So many lost years. There was no way to gain any of it back, and he was reasonably sure they’d never know the reasoning behind all of it. Why had A’laya’s husband abandoned her? Why had the duchess taken Kate from her mother and sent her away? And where was Pierce De Vere when it all happened?

  Joshua had known Kate for years—even though several of those had been in the capacity of mere acquaintances—yet he could not envision his life or his future without her as a part of it.

  Joshua couldn’t walk away.

  Bloody hell, he couldn’t imagine a morning without her nestled in the carriage with him as they sped across London to Cheapside.

  He was utterly in love with her.

  With each day, with each new challenge, Joshua needed her more.

  He’d fooled himself into believing his work in Cheapside enabled him to discover who he was and what he wanted for his future. That wasn’t true at all. Because Joshua wouldn’t be himself without Kate.

  Suddenly, he realized they could be anywhere—Cheapside, Bond Street, even on the open ocean in a rowboat. As long as she was by his side, Joshua would know his course.

  “Mayhap I should show the countess to her bedchamber for the evening.” Dolly pushed to her feet, somehow sensing they all needed time to think, arrange their thoughts, and begin the conversation anew later. “I’ve had the peach chamber prepared. It is next to Miss Kate’s and has a lovely view of the gardens.”

  When Joshua and A’laya stood, Kate rose, as well, smoothing her palms down her skirts.

  She paused for only a second before crossing the scant few feet separating her and the countess and wrapping her arms around her mother. The two women remained in their embrace for several moments, and he noticed that they whispered into each other’s ears before Kate squeezed one last time and stepped back.

  A’laya smiled warmly, bid Joshua a good evening, and told Kate she looked forward to seeing her in the morning.

  Joshua wanted to push Kate to go with her mother, but the selfish part of him longed for her to stay with him. He didn’t say a word when the two women, Dolly in the lead, departed the room, leaving the door open in their wake.

  Joshua observed Kate watching them bustle from the room, her shoulders stiff, and her breathing shallow.

  * * *

  Kate drew in a deep breath the moment Dolly and the countess exited the room. Once again, she was astounded by the fact that everything could change while remaining unchanged at the same time
.

  She had a mother, yet she’d always had one—an adoptive mother.

  She had a past, a heritage, generations of family—and though she hadn’t known of her heritage, it did not alter her memories of her childhood, it only enhanced them.

  So much came into focus the more her mother shared about her past—their past. She wanted to know everything, craved an understanding of who she was and where she’d come from. Even learning of the earl’s duplicity where A’laya was concerned did not stave off her need for more details.

  Barbados?

  As the countess had spoken, Kate had searched her memory for the nation’s location.

  If she remembered correctly, it was a smallish isle along the shipping routes of the many trading companies’ vessels that traveled to places far removed from England.

  “My lord?”

  Kate focused on the doorway her mother had departed through to where a servant stood, a parcel in his hands.

  “Evans.” Joshua nodded. “Good evening.”

  “Gregory from your office delivered this a few moments ago.” His stare settled on Kate for a brief moment before moving back to Joshua. “He said it arrived after everyone had departed.”

  Joshua took the large envelope and turned it over in his hands.

  Kate sank back onto the lounge where she’d sat before, stock-still while her mother had spoken so openly to all of them, relaying tales of her tragic past. She would never forget the feel of the older woman in her arms when Kate had embraced her. She’d been rigid as if she hadn’t expected the hug. Kate honestly hadn’t realized her course of action until her arms were around her mother, and the new scent of the countess embedded itself in Kate’s memory. She smelled of open air and…wild flowers mixed with leather, likely from her long ride to London.

  The scents were new to her because Kate hadn’t traveled outside of London in all the time she’d lived there. The pungent smell of the crowded London streets and burning coal was as common to Kate as the scent of an old book, its paper tainted by years of handling.