Fortune’s Final Folly

by McKnight, Christina

  A’laya’s chest contracted at the forlorn look in her daughter’s eyes. She’d seen it in her own over the long, hard years. It was the look of a woman who wanted something very badly but was resigned to never have it.

  In A’laya’s case, it had been someone. Her daughter.

  In Kate’s case, A’laya suspected it was also about someone.

  Joshua.

  “You should go to him,” A’laya whispered, staring toward the front of the room and out the open doorway.

  Kate feigned confusion. “Go to whom?”

  A’laya saw directly through the ploy. “The solicitor.”

  They’d been reacquainted only a short time; however, she truly felt as if she knew the young woman before her. Her hopes, her dreams, her fears. Because they matched many of A’laya’s from the past.

  On cue, Kate’s cheeks blossomed with heat at A’laya’s direct answer. “No, I cannot. He had work to do, and I’ve inconvenienced him enough.”

  There was no fooling A’laya. In fact, the solicitor hadn’t even attempted to hide his attraction for Kate. Attraction… She scoffed. What Joshua felt for Kate was far more than simple lust—and just as complicated. Maybe more so. The interest and captivation were duly returned by her daughter. One did not have to claim any type of extra senses or gifts to see the connection between the two.

  A budding love that would soon bring Kate to her senses. Very unlike the speedy courtship and duplicity of A’laya’s relationship with Pierce.

  There was only authenticity behind the stolen looks exchanged between Kate and Joshua.

  “You are not an inconvenience to him, my girl.”

  Kate shook her head. “He, as well as his uncle, was friends with my parents. He feels responsible for me. Needs to make certain I do well.”

  “It is more than that.” A’laya shook her head. “Your hand, my daughter.”

  Kate’s eyes widened, but she came forth and offered her bare hand to A’laya. Both had stripped their gloves when they began working, and the feel of her daughter’s soft skin against her rough, calloused, wrinkled flesh was welcome. Very welcome, indeed.

  Straightening her shoulders, A’laya stared into Kate’s eerily familiar eyes and took in her creamy complexion—just the right strength of tea with milk. She did not want to let her go. She smiled, squeezed her daughter’s hand, and brought it closer as she traced the lines in Katherina’s palm.

  “Ahhh,” she cooed. “Methinks you know more than you speak, Kate. Tell me, have you and the solicitor spoken of your connection?”

  “Not in so many words.” The blush returned, only hints detectable high on her cheekbones as she averted her stare. “But, yes. And I think if things were”—she paused, lifting her chin—“different, mayhap we…”

  “What, my dear girl?”

  “Before…before I knew who I was or anything about you, I thought our stations in life were what would keep us apart.” A rigid kind of acceptance overtook Kate, and A’laya noted the way her daughter’s eyes cleared. “But now…now I know it is so much more. Not only do I not know who I am, but I do not know where I belong. How can I bring Joshua into that? It is not fair. Not to him and certainly not to you. We have only just met, and it is you who needs me.”

  A’laya laughed, the chuckle rumbling deeply within her until her shoulders ached. She released her grip on Kate’s hand. “We have much time—years—to spend together. I will never leave you again unless you request it of me—”

  Stark fear darkened Kate’s face. “I would never.”

  A’laya lifted her hand to pat Kate’s cheek, something her mother had done to her when she became anxious in her youth. She let her hand fall to her side, uncertain if it was the right thing to do. “What I am attempting to say is that I will not leave you. But Lord Stuart, he is a kind and generous man. One with a heart larger than I’ve encountered in anyone since my father’s passing. You should not let anything stand in your way if he is the man you desire. And if it is love that draws your heart to him, do not wait another moment to tell him.”

  If anyone knew how quickly life could change, and so drastically you might not even recognize yourself or your surroundings, it was A’laya. In the blink of an eye, she’d gone from an innocent young woman to a scorned wife, abandoned with a babe in an unfamiliar home. Before she’d been able to reconcile her new reality, that had been stolen from her, as well.

  Fate was not always kind.

  Fortune could not be counted on to be in Kate’s favor.

  Neither fate nor fortune had treated A’laya well in the past. But Kate was not A’laya, despite both women having found men they loved. A’laya’s husband had been a selfish man, yet all she’d witnessed of the solicitor were acts of kindness and altruism. Pierce was a scoundrel who’d mistreated and betrayed A’laya. Lord Stuart was not the earl, and A’laya needed to make Kate understand that fact.

  * * *

  The open and honest encouragement from her mother—Kate still could scarcely believe she could call the older woman that—had Kate rethinking everything that pertained to Joshua. Undoubtedly, she felt a certain, unexplainable draw toward him; however, it could not be as simple as all of that.

  Yes, she desired him. Greatly.

  Yes, he had been her constant for longer than she realized.

  Yes, their kiss had stirred feelings and emotions in Kate that far exceeded lust.

  She’d noted him watching her on their ride into Cheapside. Though she hadn’t dared glance over her shoulder, she’d felt his eyes on her as she and A’laya had journeyed across the street to the schoolroom. Even in this moment, she suspected that if she glanced out the open doorway, she’d glimpse him in the window across the street.

  Surprisingly, Kate felt comforted by his presence and attention. For the first time in recent years, everything was not her burden to carry alone. Never, not once, had Joshua given her the impression that she and her life’s circumstances were a hardship for him.

  When had Kate begun to crave Joshua’s presence?

  “Do you love him?” A’laya whispered.

  Love? Kate had loved her parents, the vicar and his wife. She knew she was already coming to love the woman standing before her. But to love a man? Kate had never seen such a thing in her future. It was a dream she hadn’t allowed herself to believe could be hers.

  Yet, the truth was undeniable.

  No matter the uncertainty in her life, Kate was convinced of one thing: she was in love with Joshua.

  Her mother smiled. “Oh, my girl. I do believe he loves you, too.”

  “How can you be certain?” Kate wasn’t convinced her feelings for Joshua were reciprocated. Yet, A’laya, who’d only just met him the previous day, seemed confident.

  “He looks at you the way my father did with my mother. He cares for you, thinks only of you, even when the easier decision would be to remain detached.” A’laya sighed, a forlorn sadness creeping into her expression. “He is everything I longed for in my youth.”

  “Did my father…?” Kate swallowed, knowing that despite Walter’s letter, she needed to hear it from her mother. “He must have loved you at some point.”

  “I thought he did.” A’laya’s smile was heartbreaking. “He was everything I’d dreamt of in a husband: handsome, dashing, charming, titled, and he lavished me with gifts. At least he did in those very early days of our courtship. It was all a ruse, a way to ensnare me, and, worst of all, punish his mother for withholding his allowance.”

  “Did the duke tell you this?” Kate had been gaining the courage to share with A’laya the letter Walter had left for her. Not because she did not trust the older woman with the knowledge, but because reliving the pain of those early years might very well be too much for A’laya to bear. She never should have had to endure it in the first place. How could Kate allow her to read the damning evidence of it all written in black ink by the duke’s own hand? “I mean—”

  A’laya held up her hand, and Kate fell s
ilent. “He did not have to speak any of it. The duchess was keen on making sure I knew that Pierce’s heart and loyalty had never been with me. Even after he disappeared to London before your birth, it was evident our marriage had never been the serendipitous event I’d believed it to be. I was an utter fool, little more than a senseless girl who could not see Pierce for the nefarious lord he was. But you, Katherina, you are not that girl. You are a woman, a lady who knows her worth and that of others. Your heart knows that what you feel for Lord Stuart is true, even if your mind has yet to accept it.”

  “I wish we hadn’t been separated all those years ago.” A tear spilled unbidden down Kate’s cheek, and A’laya brushed it away.

  “I think, mayhap, fate had plans for you even before you were born, my dear girl.” A’laya rubbed at her necklace before reaching around her neck and untying the twine that secured the treasured keepsake. “If you’d remained with me, you might not have crossed paths with your solicitor, and we might have suffered more at the duchess’s hands. We would have had one another, but you may not have found love.”

  Kate’s chest swelled, filling in a way she’d never known it could. She’d grown up with a certain detachment from everything and everyone around her, even her parents to an extent. Finally, she was coming to understand who she was, where she’d come from, and most importantly, where she belonged.

  It wasn’t a place, though she loved her tiny schoolroom.

  It wasn’t Cheapside, though she had an affinity for her pupils and those she’d come to meet and know in the area.

  Where she belonged had everything to do with who was by her side.

  No matter if they resided in England—or the New World—Kate belonged at Joshua’s side. And he at hers. She suddenly knew it with certainty.

  The silent exchange they’d shared the previous night made more sense as Kate accepted the startling reality.

  “Mother, I think I should go—”

  “Go to him, Katherina,” A’laya said with a grin.

  Kate embraced her mother, lingering in the soft, welcoming embrace before stepping back.

  She needed to speak with Joshua and tell him how she felt. Their silent pledge was no longer all she wanted. It was only when she spoke to him of her love that she’d know the extent of his feelings for her.

  “I will return,” Kate called over her shoulder with a wave as she started for the door.

  She hurried across the room, making certain to watch her step on the loose floorboards. As she neared the front of the building, a shadow crossed the threshold, and a man stepped into her boarded-up school, the light from outside momentarily shrouding his face from view.

  He was a familiar stranger, that much Kate knew. It wasn’t Joshua, Henry, or one of his other servants, but the man’s height and set of his broad shoulders were vaguely familiar.

  The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end when A’laya gasped behind her.

  Kate missed the name her mother called into the nearly empty schoolroom, but as she turned back toward her mother, the man swung his arm, his fist connecting with Kate’s left temple.

  Lights exploded before her eyes as she careened backwards, her arms flailing for something to steady herself but finding nothing in the bare room. Her head swam and burst with pain when it knocked against the floorboards.

  Her arm was wrenched upward as she was pulled to her feet, but she could not bring herself to open her eyes as the bursts of colored light faded until all she saw was pitch-black.

  As she allowed herself to embrace the darkness and ward off the pain, Kate heard her mother scream…

  “Pierce!”

  Chapter 18

  Kate came to slowly, her vision blurred to the point where she needed to close her eyes to concentrate with her other senses. She smelled the remnants of a fire. She was still in the schoolroom, but perhaps upstairs? The room was frigid, as made evident by her numb fingers. The sounds of labored breathing permeated the room. The only other sounds to be heard were the passing carriages and horses on the street below, but even that was muffled. She must be in the room farthest from the road and near the mews.

  Wiggling her foot, Kate realized that she was sitting in a chair; the toe of her shoe grazed the wooden floor. They must be in the small kitchen area. She leaned forward slightly, only to find something sharp and unpleasant press into her neck just below her chin.

  “Do not move, Katherina,” A’laya whispered hoarsely.

  The scrape of a chair across the floorboards sounded not far from Kate.

  “Yes, Katherina, listen to your mother,” a male voice hissed in her ear.

  “Let her go, you fiend!”

  “Do shut up, you caterwauling shrew.” Whatever the man held at her throat receded until Kate barely felt the pain of its sharp point. “Now, Katherina, why could you not simply have perished in the fire? It would have saved me a lot of trouble, and you much pain.”

  She slowly opened her eyes. As she focused, she peered into A’laya’s hardened stare. Her mother’s rigid posture and penetrating gaze did not hide the tears that seeped from her eyes as she glared at the man behind Kate. Her mother, likely much the same as Kate, sat in one of the chairs that were usually tucked close to the tiny table that Kate and her parents had dined at in her youth.

  She moved her arms a bit and twisted slightly. Nothing bound her to the chair but the threat of the blade at her throat. It was the same thing that kept her mother frozen in the chair across from her.

  “However, I do see the advantage of having both of you here at the same time,” the man drawled, drawing out each word with agonizing slowness. “Doing away with just one meddlesome female would not have solved my problems, I understand that now.”

  Terror must have shone in Kate’s eyes because her mother mouthed the word, “Sorry,” over and over again.

  “It isn’t your fault,” Kate declared, the blade cutting into her neck once more. A fiery trail snaked down her throat and under the collar of her blouse. There was little doubt who the man at her back was. Pierce De Vere—her father. And he’d set the fire that had nearly killed her.

  Now, he’d returned for a second attempt at doing away with her.

  Only now did Kate understand why he’d seek to do it. She was nearly old enough to have received Walter’s letter when her bequest ran out, and her full inheritance was made available to her.

  And her mother was in trouble, too.

  “Please, let A’laya go,” Kate pleaded. She knew it would do no good, and if anything of the man were to be believed, he was not above being cruel for cruelty’s sake, but she had to try. “She stands to inherit nothing from the Shrewbury estate, and I don’t even know her.”

  “Do you think me simpleminded?” the earl snarled.

  “You certainly are not an intelligent man,” Kate prodded, only achieving a quick press of the blade before he once again eased back. “What do you want?”

  “What do I want?” His tone was deranged, his pitch rising with each word. “I want what is rightfully mine. What I earned.”

  “Earned?” A’laya scoffed. “You’ve earned nothing, you treacherous beast.”

  Pierce stood behind Kate, the knife leaving her throat as he rushed at A’laya, the blade pointed at her.

  “Don’t touch her,” Kate screamed, kicking out her leg until it tangled with his, sending him off balance as quickly as his punch had knocked her down earlier. “Run!”

  As he slammed into the table, bashing his hip against the unforgiving wooden top, he cursed.

  Kate glanced at her mother but noticed that she hadn’t run. Instead, she stood, grasping the chair with both of her hands as she swung it, catching the fiend in the knees. He collapsed.

  There was no time to commend A’laya on her accurate blow.

  Pierce’s howl of pain echoed in the small room as he fought to gain purchase on the table while still keeping the knife in his grasp.

  Kate attempted to make her way past Pierce and
toward A’laya to the door of the upstairs’ landing behind her. Pierce halted her, swinging out his arm and swiping the knife at her thigh, ripping through her skirt. Kate grabbed at the area, staggering back, but the blade hadn’t made it through her underpinnings to cut her flesh.

  “You bastard!” Her mother darted past Pierce and took hold of the copper pot from the pellet stove. “I will never allow you to harm Katherina again.”

  A’laya held the cookware high above her head and brought it down, crushing Pierce in the shoulder.

  He dropped, and the knife skittered across the floor into the far corner.

  When he didn’t immediately move, Kate lifted her stare to her mother’s enraged face as she seethed with anger, her heavy breathing audible even over the pounding of footfalls on the stairs.

  “Mother,” Kate said, rushing to catch A’laya before her knees gave out from her trembling and she tumbled to the floor. “Are you hurt?”

  “No, child.” A’laya rubbed at her shoulder as Kate slipped her arm around her mother’s waist to help support her.

  “What in the bloody hell?” Joshua rushed into the room, out of breath from his dash up the stairs, another man close on his heels. His face drained of color when he spotted Pierce crumpled on the floor. “Kate, A’laya, are you both okay?”

  “Go to him, Katherina,” A’laya whispered. When Kate trained her gaze on her mother, A’laya continued, “Go, I will be fine. Sore from my old age, but I am well. Very well, indeed.”

  With a smile, Kate kissed her mother lightly on the cheek, surprising even herself with the intimate gesture.

  Kate skirted the room, staying out of Pierce’s reach even though he groaned in a heap on the floor and, with Joshua’s arrival, proved no further threat to anyone, especially Kate.

  “Joshua.” Kate threw herself at him, and he opened his arms wide to catch her. She didn’t fear for even a moment that he wouldn’t bundle her close and press a kiss to her forehead, her cheek, and finally her lips. After a few moments, she pulled back and cupped his face between her hands. “Joshua Stuart, I am utterly, completely, and madly in love with you! I don’t want another minute to pass without you knowing that my whole heart belongs to you.”