Fortune’s Final Folly

by McKnight, Christina

  “Kate?” The concern in Joshua’s tone cut through the fog surrounding Kate and her thoughts. “Kate, are you unwell?”

  “My apologies.” She leapt to her feet, surprised that while her head swam and felt weighed down by a dense haze, her body was quick to action. “I should leave you”—her eyes flitted to the open parcel in his hands—“to your work.”

  His brows drew low. “The parcel is for you. Well, it was addressed to me, but the letter inside is for you.”

  “For me?” She glanced past Joshua, but the servant had departed the room, closing the door behind him. Joshua held out the letter, but Kate could not bring herself to take it. “Are you certain?”

  “It arrived from the bank. And, yes, it is addressed to you.”

  She stared at the missive and then up at Joshua. He nodded, giving her the courage to take it.

  There was nothing she could learn that could shock her more than discovering the countess’s existence.

  Finally, Kate grasped the envelope and read the erratic script on the outside. It was faded and nearly illegible, but Kate could make out her name.

  She slipped her finger under the wax seal and removed the letter.

  The same hurried script covered the page from edge to edge as if its writer had needed to fill every available inch with words to be shared.

  Katherina,

  If you are receiving this missive, you have either reached a certain age, and your bequest has run dry, or you’ve figured out far more than was expected. Either way, the Bank of England has not been foolish enough to go against my wishes. I may be old, but I am still a duke. This letter is to inform you, Miss Katherina Elliott, that a new account with the Bank of England can be accessed in your true name, Lady Katherina De Vere. The money was always to be yours, despite the many people who attempted to re-write the past.

  Your mother, Layla, was wed to my wretched son. He was a rogue among rogues, and I must take the blame for his insolence. Though no one can deny that you and your mother were punished in the severest, cruelest manner, something I wouldn’t wish on my enemies. Pierce was—perhaps remains so to this day, only time will tell—a scoundrel, an abuser of women, and a deceiver. He broke his mother’s heart, my precious Henrietta, and cast her into her dying role as a fiend. My dear girl, please know she was not always the heartless, cold, calculating woman Pierce turned her into. In the end, she could not bear to look upon your mother or you and think of the son who’d forsaken her, betrayed her, and felt no remorse. Henrietta thought to punish our son, but it did no good. He cared for nothing and no one except for perhaps himself.

  I am not writing to make excuses for the cruelties forced upon you and your mother. No, I am here to make amends for it all in the only way an old, tired, lonely man can. I shall die alone, that is my cross to bear, and I am resigned to that fate.

  For you, dear girl—despite my weakness in your infancy—I can at least provide a better fate.

  Even back then, I attempted to do right by you. The vicar and his wife were good people, never blessed with a family of their own. I knew they would provide well for you and give you a home and a future away from Shrewbury, outside the reach of your father and my wife.

  Kate folded the letter in her hands, unable to go on. She’d wanted to believe that it hadn’t been as awful as her mother had explained. That perhaps A’laya had misunderstood something or misremembered everything.

  Kate straightened her shoulders and unfolded the letter once more, finding where she’d left off.

  I implore you, Katherina, do not be angry with your parents, the Elliotts. They took you in when Henrietta would have seen you thrown on the streets and forgotten. I could not allow that to happen, not to you, my precious granddaughter.

  I was—am—a weak man.

  I can only think that it is a common trait of the Shrewbury men.

  It is far too late, as I well know. However, I must try to make amends before it is too late for me. After you were sent away to live with the vicar and his wife, nothing more than a tiny babe, I set up your trust with my solicitor with instructions that you were to be given this letter when you reached twenty-two, or in the event that you came looking. To you, I give everything within my power to give. The Shrewbury coffers in their entirety. Anything not entitled to the dukedom.

  It is all yours, my dear Katherina.

  Though I wish I had been strong and could have given you more.

  My final request—if an old man of my debauched nature has any right to ask it—is that you please find your mother, Layla.

  A’laya.

  Kate turned the paper over in her hands, longing—searching—for more.

  There was nothing else.

  The letter was signed simply, Walter.

  A tear slipped down her cheek, dripping onto the paper, causing the ink to smear and the final words to blend into a swirl of black.

  Walter De Vere, the Duke of Shrewbury.

  Her grandfather.

  She and Joshua had learned enough about the people mentioned in her family’s file to know that the old duke and his wife, Henrietta, were both long deceased. What Kate hadn’t known was who had set up the trust that gave her the stipend and why. Now that she knew, she realized it didn’t make the situation any clearer in her mind.

  Kate and her mother had been pawns in a family feud that had started well before Kate had been born. Even before her mother had met and married Pierce De Vere if her mother’s story about Pierce using his marriage to her as a way to thwart his mother were true.

  Joshua sat on the lounge next to her. His familiar presence calmed her, not because she did not want to cry in front of him, but because she knew she could be weak with him. He would not judge her, nor would he turn away from her; he would not leave her to muddle through the mess others had made for Kate.

  The urge to lean into Joshua and allow him to surround her with his warmth was nearly more than Kate could take.

  “This was also in the parcel.” He held another paper in his hand…a single sheet.

  This one was clearly written by a meticulous hand, a steady quill, someone with some semblance of organization—unlike the letter from her grandfather.

  Strange how easily she’d accepted the fact that she possessed a grandfather.

  The page was a detailed list, signed at the bottom by a Mr. Caleb Abelston, Solicitor. He was the man listed in the file they’d found in Joshua’s Bond Street office.

  Kate scanned the document, her mind working to keep up with the extensive list, including a large sum of money, several properties, livestock, and antiquities.

  “What is this, Joshua?” she asked, holding the paper out to him.

  “It appears to be a list of assets. A bequeathal to you upon your twenty-second birthday.” A note of awe tinged his tone as he scanned the page for a second time. “Henry and I will inquire into the matter first thing tomorrow morning.”

  “It is all mine,” Kate mumbled. “He says it belongs to me.”

  That morning, Kate had fretted about her home, the schoolroom, and the means to repair it lest she find herself without a place to live.

  In a few short hours, she’d discovered her true name, her ancestry, her mother, and the story of the devastating way they’d both been treated by the people that should have loved and cared for them. Kate hadn’t had adequate time to allow the countess’ presence to sink in, let alone discover that she was to inherit so much from a man she’d never even met.

  Kate had gone from questioning who she was to learning truths about herself that only confused her more.

  Joshua’s stare was focused on her. Kate sensed it with a comforting warmth. Each time something happened, he offered help—never questioning her. Even now, she knew she could trust him.

  When her fingers shook, Joshua took the envelope from her hand.

  “May I?” he asked.

  When she nodded, he unfolded the letter and read, his brow pulling low. “I am truly sorry, Kate.�
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  “Sorry?” Kate’s hand no longer quivered as she took the letter and the list back from Joshua. “There is no reason to be apologetic. We have the answers we’ve been searching for—or at least most of them. My mother found me, and it appears I am a wealthy woman.”

  All of her trouble should have evaporated. There should be a measure of finality with the information she’d gained. The weight of her responsibilities should be less.

  Rationally, Kate comprehended how she should feel in that moment.

  She should be happy. She should feel lighter and enlightened. She should bask in the new knowledge of her past. She should feel fulfilled in a way that had always escaped her.

  Why then did she feel more alone and unbalanced than ever?

  Why did she sense that she needed Joshua more than she ever had?

  “I am happy you are here,” she whispered. And she was. He was her constant, the one person she could count on to be who he was at all times. “I do not think I could wade through all of this alone.”

  “No one should be made to live their life alone.” Joshua shifted on the lounge until he faced her, his legs brushing hers as he caressed her cheeks. His fingers were soft and warm against her chilled skin, reminding her of the press of his lips to her bare wrist. “We—you and I—were not made to be solitary creatures.”

  She longed for the sensation of his kiss once more, for Joshua to take her in his arms and banish all her concerns.

  “I truly want to believe that is true.” Kate covered his hand with hers, stopping him from pulling away from her. Her entire body screamed for her to hold tight, to not let him go—to demand they both realize there was far more between them than friendship. Kate wanted to belong to Joshua, which would, in turn, make him hers. They could face what came next together. They were stronger together than when they were apart. Kate felt that more and more each day.

  His intense stare held hers as if he could read her thoughts and knew what she was thinking, and…

  But that could not be.

  Joshua was—had always been—a gentleman.

  And Kate’s thoughts were wanton and scandalous.

  Leaning forward, Kate held her breath until her mouth met his. She hadn’t any notion what she was doing or where it might lead, but she trusted Joshua enough to allow him to show her. Surprisingly, he didn’t pull away from her. His hand moved from her cheek to the nape of her neck, his other wrapping around her back and pulling her closer.

  When his lips parted, Kate melted. A sigh escaped her as she longed to be closer to him. But how could that be possible?

  The rhythm of his lips dancing with hers promised there were many, many ways for Kate to be closer to him—both physically and emotionally.

  Her hands grasped at his shoulders, her nails biting through the thin fabric of her gloves and into his coat. The undeniable draw between them only intensified when Kate adjusted until she sat on his lap, their lips never separating as she drew in the courage to slip her hands from his shoulders and into his hair.

  A growl rumbled from his parted lips as if he very much liked the feel of her fingers in his strands.

  Her mind—and her heart—thrummed with a new heat that seemed to coil tightly in the pit of her stomach.

  All those parts of her that had been slowly crumbling from the moment Joshua rescued her from the fire began to meld back together, fusing so surely Kate suspected that no matter what came tomorrow, she’d never find herself weak to the point of falling apart again.

  This man, this gloriously handsome and kind man in her arms, would make certain to hold her together through anything.

  It was only when she’d literally questioned her entire existence that everything became clear to her.

  The clock chimed on the mantel, and Joshua stiffened, his hands falling away from her as he drew back.

  Kate stared up into his deep brown eyes. Shining back at her was a reflection of what she felt for him: love, adoration, longing, and, most of all…acceptance.

  Without a single spoken word, Kate knew Joshua accepted her regardless of whether she was the daughter of a penniless vicar or a lord most foul. She wasn’t certain who she was or who she wanted to be, and that was fine. It was more than fine because he would be with her while she figured it all out.

  “Kate,” Joshua whispered, shifting her on his lap as she rested her head against his shoulder. “You are the bravest, kindest, most beautiful woman I’ve ever met. I understand you have much to learn, a lot to sort through, and it will take time. But—”

  “We have much to learn,” Kate said, the hint of a smile touching her lips. “And it can take all the time in the world as long as we do it together, you and I.”

  When he didn’t immediately respond, Kate sat up straighter, her head leaving his shoulder. Not for a second did she fear he would shy away from her assertion.

  And she was correct.

  In answer to her proclamation, Joshua pulled her close again, his kiss an unspoken agreement. A promise that needed no words.

  Chapter 16

  Joshua waved to Kate and her mother as they paused outside the schoolroom to look back at him before entering the building. It continued to take him by surprise each time the women stood close to each other. The resemblance was unmistakable even with the years separating the pair. The last thing Joshua wanted was to spend even a minute without Kate by his side; however, there was work to be done, and he would join the two women as quickly as his day allowed.

  The newly acquainted pair also needed time together. They’d lost nearly twenty years, and it would be no small feat to overcome the time and distance between them to forge a genuine familial bond. The immense level of joy he felt for Kate and all she’d discovered brimmed inside him. She was happy, too. Joshua knew it. However, there was still much confusion for her to work through.

  The why of it all had been answered, but so many questions remained.

  And it would likely take time to uncover it all.

  Thankfully, with the letter from Walter, the Duke of Shrewbury, written before his passing, Kate had all the time and funds needed to set her own pace with the discovery. Joshua was content and more than willing to let Kate guide them through the new revelations.

  Joshua smiled, taking in the bustling street around him where men and women hurried down the walkways, rode horses down the lane, and went about their days.

  Looking forward once more, he noted that Kate and the countess had disappeared into the schoolroom.

  The quicker Joshua handled the matter of the old duke’s letter, the swifter he could rejoin Kate.

  He’d never been one to succumb to such all-encompassing feelings for a woman. But Kate made Joshua want to throw caution to the wind and embrace wherever their attraction might take them. She’d fit perfectly in his arms the previous night, and he hadn’t wanted to let her go. But he knew that if Dolly or another servant happened upon them in such a situation, the gossip would spread quickly, and Joshua did not want that for Kate.

  Joshua turned and entered his office, greeting Henry with a bit more enthusiasm than was typical. “Good morning, Henry. I do hope your evening was satisfactory.”

  His assistant stood, gave Joshua a curt bow, and then glanced over his shoulder to Joshua’s office.

  Light shone from the partially open door.

  “My lord,” Henry’s voice was a tentative whisper. “You have a visitor in your office.”

  “A visitor?” Joshua stared past Henry, ignoring the young man’s unease. Unfortunately, whoever awaited him was out of sight. “My first client isn’t expected for another hour, and I have some work to do…”

  Henry cleared his throat, his voice dropping lower than before. “He insisted it is a matter of great import.”

  “The man’s name?” Joshua mentally counted the number of people and businesses he’d contacted of late. Most were linked to Kate—the bank, the Shrewbury estate, and the matter of Walter’s letter.

  Gra
bbing a card from his desk, Henry handed it to Joshua. The paper was thick with an embossed name printed in gold leaf on the fine card.

  Mr. Daniel Burns, Solicitor.

  Joshua had heard of the man. He had been at Oxford a few years before Joshua. His family held one of the most prestigious law offices in London and were rumored to handle matters for the Bank of England, Barclays, and The London Gazette. The family had wealth and means with many connections even Joshua’s father could not boast about.

  Why would the man be in Cheapside awaiting an audience with Joshua?

  “Lord Joshua Stuart?” Burns sauntered into the main office and halted several feet from Joshua, a folder under his arm.

  Never had Joshua felt like an interloper in his own building; however, the way Burns looked perfectly at ease despite having no appointment made Joshua apprehensive.

  “How can I be of assistance, Mr. Burns?” Joshua, attempting to take back control of the situation, walked forward and gestured toward his office. “We can speak privately in my office.”

  Joshua took in the room once they’d both entered, and he’d closed the door behind them. Everything appeared as it had the night before. His desk was orderly, and chairs lined the room, ready for class to be held later in the morning after Kate had finished across the street.

  Neither man sat, each preferring to stand.

  “My lord, am I correct that your client is Miss Katherina Elliott?” Burns clasped his hands behind his back, the file still under his arm as his serious stare assessed Joshua. When Joshua nodded, the man continued. “I received word from the Bank of England concerning your client’s request for funds pertaining to the Shrewbury estate.”

  “That is correct.” Joshua eyed the solicitor. His finely tailored suit appeared freshly pressed, and his cravat was expertly arranged. “Are you a solicitor for the bank?”

  Burns barked with a sharp chuckle. “Heavens, no.”