Fortune’s Final Folly

by McKnight, Christina

  Joshua’s brow rose in question.

  The solicitor retrieved the file from under his arm, opening it to reveal several pages of handwritten notes. “I am here on behalf of the Earl of Holderness, Pierce De Vere. He is the heir to the Shrewbury dukedom, previously run by his late father. He has recently returned to London, and we are preparing to petition the Lord Chancellor for a writ of summons to the House of Lords. Unfortunately, there is a small matter that must be rectified before that can happen.”

  “Holderness is in London?” Joshua suppressed his shock, knowing Burns would use it to his client’s advantage if he were thrown off guard. “I heard it has been many years since the man has been seen or heard. At least, in England.”

  Burns snapped the folder closed and slipped it back under his arm. “Yes, well, circumstances have arisen, and my client believes it is in his best interest to reclaim his place among society and take over his father’s estate.”

  “What circumstances exactly, if you do not mind me inquiring?” Had the man created another scandal and been forced to return to London? Or had he squandered away whatever funds he had?

  “It is a delicate, personal matter.”

  “If you are here, I can only assume you know of the late duke’s wishes made before his passing.”

  Burns shrugged. “The earl only seeks what is rightfully his and then wishes to be on his way without further inconveniencing Miss Katherina.”

  “Do you not mean, Lady Katherina De Vere—his daughter?” Joshua was done tiptoeing around the solicitor’s true motives for the visit.

  “I am uncertain where you have gained your information, Stuart. However, I have no documentation proving that the earl has ever been wed, let alone fathered a child.”

  It was Joshua’s turn to chuckle. The dry laugh was nearly a growl. “You have seen the letter then.”

  “A letter written by a man who was certainly not of sound, stable mind.” Burns’ eyes narrowed. “It is highly unlikely that anyone would see the letter as anything more than the senseless ramblings of a man losing his mind with grief over the loss of his wife and his son’s departure from England. There is no proof my client was ever wed, and even if Miss Katherina were deemed an illegitimate offspring, she would not legally be entitled to anything from the dukedom. However, I have a proposition for Miss Katherina…”

  He could only imagine the proposition a fiend like Holderness would offer Kate. The man had wed and then abandoned his young bride when she was with child, leaving her in the hands of the duchess, arguably a worse foe. The vision of Joshua physically throwing Burns from his office flashed through Joshua’s mind, yet something stopped him.

  Holderness was in London.

  As was Katherina.

  As was her mother, A’laya.

  Did the earl know of his wife’s presence in town? Was it a combination of Joshua inquiring with the bank and A’laya’s reappearance that had instigated Burns’ arrival at Joshua’s Cheapside office?

  A wolfish grin crossed Burns’ face. He obviously took Joshua’s silence as confirmation that he was prepared to entertain whatever ludicrous proposition the scheming pair had devised to once again cheat Kate and her mother out of what rightfully belonged to them.

  The solicitor made a show of unbuttoning his jacket and retrieving an envelope from the inside pocket, though he did not hand it to Joshua. “I have prepared a document for Miss Katherina El—”

  “Lady Katherina De Vere,” Joshua corrected, his chin raising a notch in challenge.

  “Call the woman what you wish, as long as she signs the paper.” Burns waved off the correction before continuing. “If your client signs the document, my client is prepared to pay her handsomely for it.”

  Certainly not as handsomely as what the deceased duke bequeathed her, Joshua thought. “How much?”

  “Twenty thousand pounds, given at one time,” Burns said, his arrogance bordering on absurd.

  Perhaps the solicitor and Holderness were not privy to Walter’s letter, after all. The sum was laughable compared to what Katherina had been promised.

  If either gentleman thought that Joshua would agree to such a paltry sum for everything the women had endured, they were the ones not of sound mind.

  “Have we an agreement?” Burns prodded, his agitation brimming.

  “What is it you wish signed?” It was Joshua’s turn to push back. The solicitor obviously needed the document endorsed. When he did not answer Joshua’s question, he leaned his hip against his desk, anger flaring in the solicitor’s eyes. “I cannot bring something to my client without some explanation of what it is she is to sign and the benefits it offers to her—if it truly does benefit her.”

  “I can take the matter before the courts. The settlement is generous, considering the girl wasn’t aware before a few days ago that she was the granddaughter of a duke,” Burns scoffed. “She was raised in Cheapside, for heaven’s sake. And now she thinks she deserves my client’s inheritance? Every court in the land will see her for what she is.”

  “Which is?” Joshua’s hands balled into fists, and he slipped them behind his back to hide his anger at Burns’ words. The solicitor was the type of man who took pleasure in upsetting others. “Please share, Mr. Burns.”

  “A status-seeking hoyden who does not deserve the title of lady.” The matter-of-fact tone in the solicitor’s declaration enraged Joshua until his vision blurred.

  “My client only just learned her true identity.” Joshua spoke slowly, deliberately, begging his anger to subside, and his mind to clear. “Between you and I”—Joshua paused, working to release his built-up tension—“the sum is large for a woman of Katherina’s current means. There must be more to the situation. I am the son of a duke, Burns, I understand how things go, more than most.”

  Joshua sensed the animosity Burns directed at him swiftly turn to comradery.

  He’d convinced the solicitor that, as a peer, Joshua knew the overreaching hand of those beneath him. It was exactly as he wanted Holderness’ man to think.

  Burns seemed resigned. He stuffed the envelope back into his breast pocket and re-opened the folder he held, taking out a single sheet of paper and handing it to Joshua.

  The handwriting was similar to the letter Kate had received the night before, but the script was nowhere near as erratic. This had been written with great thought, not the impending urgency of a man who saw his end in sight.

  It was the Duke of Shrewbury’s officially recorded last will and testament.

  Much of the single page read as many of the wills Joshua drafted in his time with Stuart and Lords did. A list of assets, properties, investments, sums of money owed to others, as well as a few notes owed to the dukedom. There was mention of livestock, crops, and tenants—yearly repair and maintenance figures for a farming property near the town of Bampton, Oxfordshire. The Shrewbury dukedom was not the wealthiest title he’d seen, but it was far from being considered impoverished.

  Toward the bottom of the page, Shrewbury’s script turned bold as if he’d pressed the quill into the paper a bit too hard. The section was only a few sentences, and Joshua scanned the words before his stare darted to the beginning once more to read with purpose.

  I, the Duke of Shrewbury, of sound mind and body, do so intend and decree that all my worldly possessions, property, and funds not entitled to the dukedom are herein bequeathed to Lady Katherina De Vere, also known herein as Miss Katherina Elliott of Cheapside, the only child of the Earl of Holderness, Pierce De Vere. As of this decree, my heir apparent’s absence from polite society is known to all of England. If in the event that my son, Pierce, returns to England, he may inherit one-half of all non-entitled possessions, property, and funds if two stipulations are met:

  The Earl of Holderness agrees to find and make amends with his only daughter, Lady Katherina De Vere

  The Earl of Holderness returns to his responsibilities without tarnished name or reputation.

  If the heir apparent to the S
hrewbury dukedom does not wholly agree and execute these wishes, he shall not inherit anything but the title of duke and Shrewbury Gardens itself. He will forfeit all else to Lady Katherina De Vere.

  In the unfortunate event that Lady Katherina De Vere expires before the heir to the Shrewbury dukedom, Pierce De Vere shall be granted the Shrewbury estate in its entirety.

  Joshua read the final sentence several times.

  If Kate perished, Holderness inherited everything: possessions, wealth, and property—without question.

  “Has the earl seen this document?” Joshua asked.

  Burns plucked the will from Joshua’s hands and tucked it back into the folder before closing it. “Of course, he received it a few weeks ago.”

  “Mr. Daniel Burns,” Joshua roared. “Where in the bloody hell is your client?”

  Chapter 17

  A’laya stood in the small room off the main area of the schoolroom where tables and chairs had once filled the space. There was still a prevalent, acidic aroma in the air; however, with time, it would grow less and less pronounced until it was gone entirely. The damaged floorboards had been removed, as well as the scorched walls. Her daughter had shared on their carriage ride to Cheapside that a new door and front window would soon replace the gaping holes in the part of the building that faced the street.

  It was nearly inconceivable that Kate—A’laya was slowly adjusting to her daughter’s preferred name—had been asleep upstairs during it all.

  The metal at her neck heated as it often did when A’laya thought of her daughter.

  Before yesterday, it had been nothing more than a deep-seated longing that she feared would never be realized. Yet, now, only a dozen feet away, Kate moved a wood rocking chair toward the stairs. The intricately carved back had been charred in the blaze. The chair must have meant a great deal to Kate because she lifted it with a loving touch, not allowing the curved bottom to scrape the newly nailed-down floorboards.

  There was so much A’laya had yet to learn about Kate. Her questions seemed endless.

  Though, despite that, she remained quiet, happy to simply watch the daughter she’d never thought to see again. There would be time—years ahead of them—to discuss everything they’d missed in each other’s lives. Their future was endless. For now, A’laya was content to just be in Kate’s presence.

  And what a presence her daughter possessed.

  It was as if she didn’t realize the command she held over every room she entered. It was subtle but evident. Servants in Lord Stuart’s home had found every occasion to speak with Kate. When they arrived in Cheapside, a pair of ladies greeted Kate with an embrace. It hadn’t surprised A’laya in the slightest that Lord Stuart kept watch on Kate until they’d safely entered the schoolroom. Only then had he turned to his own building.

  A’laya had spent a great many years plagued with nightmares. In some, Kate lived in squalor, hungry, filthy, and without love. In others, her daughter had been deposited in a home for abandoned children. Once, she’d dreamt of finding a tiny cross on Shrewbury land and was forced to accept her daughter had been lost to her forever.

  It gave her some semblance of peace to know that Kate had been raised in a loving home with a mother and father who adored her, cared for her, and made sure she had an education and a home. They’d loved Kate as their own. This had given A’laya pause, but any lingering strings of jealousy over the vicar and his wife being given the gift of loving Kate had diminished as quickly as they appeared. It hadn’t been their fault that Kate had been stolen from A’laya. That was the Duke and Duchess of Shrewbury’s doing. They were the villainous pair, not the Elliotts.

  A’laya allowed herself to envy the couple’s years raising her daughter, but jealousy was not warranted.

  They’d protected Kate in a way no one had safeguarded A’laya after she met Pierce and left her family home.

  She stooped to pick up an assortment of books that were scattered haphazardly across the small room.

  She recalled the story Kate had relayed to her, and a shudder went down her spine at the thought of Kate and Joshua being trapped with no way out.

  “I can collect those.” Kate rushed over and took the books A’laya had managed to pick up. “I did not invite you to accompany me for the day only to put you to work. Please, sit down. The upstairs has been deemed usable. You can lie down if needed, or I can set water to boil for tea.”

  The empathy in Kate’s sparkling grey-blue eyes pained A’laya more than her aching back.

  “I am not one to lounge about when things need to be done.”

  Kate smiled, and for a brief moment, A’laya’s heart stopped beating, and she was transported to another time and place.

  “What?” Kate dipped and collected a few more books.

  “You have your grandmother’s smile,” A’laya confessed. She was thrilled to not see a speck of Pierce in the woman. “You have her eyes, too.”

  Kate met her stare, scrutinizing A’laya’s own countenance. “I have your eyes.”

  “I did not seek to be so bold,” A’laya said with a laugh.

  If anyone had told A’laya a fortnight prior she’d be standing in a room, chatting and laughing with her daughter, A’laya would have thought the person deranged.

  “Tell me of your family,” Kate asked lightly, busying herself around the room.

  A’laya had wanted to pour her heart out since finding Kate the day before. She’d wanted to shout it from on high and share everything about her past and that of their home country. She’d longed to ask Kate if she’d been treated differently than the other children because of her differences, if she’d wondered all these years where she’d inherited her creamy, tan skin, curling, black hair, and captivating, grey-blue eyes. What of the freckles that no doubt sprinkled across the bridge of her nose and cheeks when she spent too much time in the sun? Did she loathe them or love them?

  Yet, deeper than her outward appearance, A’laya saw the internal similarities between she and her daughter.

  Even without A’laya, Kate had become a self-assured, independent, generous, and intelligent woman. This was evident in how she’d taken care of herself in the years since her parents’ passing.

  A’laya would have been lost and desolate if she’d been left with neither of her parents. She’d been naïve and susceptible to Pierce’s lies, going so far as to ignore her mother’s warning of the man. However, A’laya had thought herself in love, and she possessed the same determined streak she recognized in her daughter.

  “I am unsure where to begin.” A’laya sat in one of the few chairs that hadn’t burnt entirely in the fire. She rubbed at her chest; the ache that should have disappeared with the discovery of Katherina still causing pain. “There is so much to say.”

  “Why not tell me about your necklace?” Kate nodded to where A’laya unknowingly rubbed at the metal. “I have seen a picture of it before.”

  “You have?” A’laya glanced down at the simple adornment that’d hung around her neck since childhood. “It was a gift from my mother. She bought it for me while we walked the merchants’ stalls when I was a child.”

  “What does it mean?”

  “It is the Path of Life.” A’laya felt Kate’s stare as it followed the intricate swirls and circles, likely thinking the same as A’laya had when she first saw the symbol. “My mother once said, ‘The paths are the circles. See the center rings? They go on forever. That is who you are. No matter what happens, you are always A’laya. Your mama’s daughter, your grandmother’s grandchild, and your father’s precious baby girl. You will make choices, little one. But know you are always loved for who you are.’”

  A’laya closed her eyes, a sadness burrowing deep into her chest at the words that had kept her focused for so many years, even during the long nights and even longer winters without Katherina.

  “The necklace was drawn on the back of a piece of paper in the file we found at Joshua’s office,” Kate said. “It seemed very important at
the time, as if I knew the symbol but could not place it.”

  “I am sorry I was not there for you.” A’laya hung her head. “While we were not together, you were still my Katherina. I thought of you every moment, dreamt of you every night, and prayed relentlessly to find you.”

  “Mayhap I did the same without realizing it,” Kate whispered.

  “I grew up with stories of the fierce, strong women of our past. Yet, I was weak. I allowed a fiend to deceive me, to trick me so completely I believed he loved me.” She paused, lifting her chin until she stared up at Kate. “But you, my blessed daughter, are everything I was unable to be. For that, I am eternally grateful.”

  “I do not feel fierce or strong.”

  A’laya sensed that it was her fault despite her absence. That she was the reason Kate did not fully comprehend her strength. “How can you say that?”

  Kate held her arms wide, gesturing to the schoolroom. “I nearly lost everything, and it is only because of Joshua’s kindness—and the funds from Shrewbury—that I can make the necessary repairs. If it were not for Joshua, I do not know where I would be. I did not question anything. I did not know where to turn when it all happened. Heavens, I did not even know that my home was burning until Joshua came for me.”

  Each time her daughter spoke of the solicitor, the light within her brightened. “Lord Joshua Stuart is a good man.”

  A’laya fell silent, allowing Kate to think on all she’d said. Upon meeting the man, she’d thought him her foe. She’d been taken aback to find that she trusted him almost immediately, even before she took his palm and made to read the lord. There was much a person could gain from merely requesting to hold another’s hand. Those who balked at the contact were most often to be avoided. Those who did not readily offer up their hand were generally hiding something. It was rare—very rare indeed—that a man held out his hand as Lord Stuart had, without question, hesitation, or reservations.

  Kate glanced toward the front of the schoolroom.