Page 10 of Fortune’s Final Folly

Only then would Joshua seek his own home for the night for a few hours of rest before returning to his post before the sun was up again.

He wasn’t certain how long he’d need to keep up his watch. Days…weeks…years? Whatever it turned out to be, he’d do it. The cobbler would not take advantage of Kate while and if Joshua could prevent it.

Perhaps Kate was correct, and Cuttlebottom’s threats were empty.

Joshua rubbed his face, begging his eyes to focus—at least for another few hours.

The night was falling, and the streets of Cheapside would be abandoned soon enough, businesses closing and families retiring for the night. Leaving the darkness to those who made their way in life by means that were frowned upon during the daylight hours when polite society roamed the streets.

As if hearing Joshua’s silent pleas, the cobbler shuffled out of his shop, a bag hoisted over his shoulder as he glanced around before locking his door. It hadn’t taken much to discover that Cuttlebottom resided down one of the alleyways farther into Cheapside, past the inn. However, as the elderly man made to depart, he didn’t follow the path he’d taken the previous few nights. Instead, he turned toward the schoolroom.

Joshua pushed from his desk and slipped his arm into his jacket, keeping his stare trained on the man as he hobbled down the street. If trouble were brewing, Joshua would be at the ready.

With a sigh of relief, the old man briefly paused before the schoolroom but then kept moving down the street before turning into the alley two buildings down. Perhaps he was making a delivery—it would explain the large bag he’d slung over his shoulder.

He thought for a moment about following, though he let the notion go when his vision blurred, and a dull ached pounded at his temples.

It was Kate—and her well-being—that consumed Joshua.

If the cobbler wanted to walk the deserted streets of London all night, it wasn’t Joshua’s concern. If the man was fool enough to risk his safety entering the dark alleys, it wasn’t Joshua’s place to warn him against it.

He’d given the man quite enough warnings for the time being.

He glanced back at the window above the schoolroom. The light was no longer as bright as it had been. Kate had moved from the front of the building to the back. Was she preparing her last meal of the day? In truth, Joshua had never been to Kate’s private rooms above, not even when the vicar and his wife were alive. They’d always met at the parish or in the schoolroom when he’d brought their envelope or other paperwork from his uncle.

A dim light appeared in the schoolroom on the ground floor.

Kate must have forgotten something—a book, her shawl, something more intimate?

At first, he’d feared it would prove difficult to maintain a watch on her and keep the cobbler from pestering her again. However, since the day he’d spoken with the elder man and nearly collided with Kate, she hadn’t left the schoolroom. Not even once. She hadn’t ventured out to the market, and only had two visitors besides her pupils.

The faint light on the ground floor disappeared, and Joshua imagined Kate climbing the rear stairs, her pristine nightshift fluttering around her legs as she ascended, holding her candle aloft to see clearly in the dim stairwell.

He slid his arms from his jacket and dropped it on a chair, pacing the office.

He was being overly drawn to the situation to the point of allowing his responsibilities to be neglected. Though, in all honesty, both of his offices ran with seamless efficiency even when Joshua dedicated his time and thoughts to other matters.

A small part of his mind yelled at him that Kate was part of those responsibilities, and he was wholly justified worrying about her. He’d managed to convince himself it wasn’t that Kate could not care for herself—she had done so for many years—but that Cuttlebottom was unpredictable. Therefore, it was the old cobbler whom Joshua didn’t—and shouldn’t—trust.

It would stand to reason that since the cobbler had closed shop and departed for the night, Joshua had nothing to fear until the man returned on the morrow. Which meant, Joshua had no reason to linger in his office any longer.

He collected his jacket once more and slipped it back on. Though it was late summer, the temperatures could turn frigid quickly.

His driver would be busy in the stables, awaiting Joshua’s call to depart. Perhaps Joshua would relish returning to his townhouse early that evening before everyone had retired to their chambers for the night. Dolly would be overjoyed to spend a few hours with him and perhaps share a meal. The older woman had been a godsend since Joshua had taken up permanent residence in Cavendish. While the elderly woman, his grandmother’s bosom friend, saw herself as needing to earn her keep in Joshua’s home, her very presence had dispelled the emptiness in the townhouse that had reigned following his grandmother’s passing.

Since purchasing the building in Cheapside, he’d become accustomed to closing the office in the evenings. On the rare occasion that Henry stayed late, Joshua remained, as well. Henry had been a welcome addition to the office, and he finished enough work that he was equal to three associates. Despite the assistant’s accomplishments, Joshua did not expect Henry to work as tirelessly as he had. More to the point, as relentlessly as Joshua had up until a few days prior. He was confident Henry hadn’t noticed Joshua’s distracted air of late.

The candles extinguished, Joshua opened the front door and stepped into the empty street, turning the lock behind him before slipping the key into the hidden pocket of his jacket.

He stared up at Kate’s window, hesitating for a final moment before making his way around the building to the stables. No light shone through the thin drapes. All the lights were out in the cobbler shop, as well.

It was time he returned to his townhouse.

Though he spent little time at his residence, it was the closest place to a home he’d ever known—even if he always sensed something was missing. His father’s garish townhouse and extravagant country estate were nothing but hollow halls filled with luxuries and wastefulness. Joshua could not understand surrounding himself with such expensive things as rugs, paintings, purebred horses, and such when so many in England went without even the bare essentials.

His father and brother hoarded possessions and wealth, while the children who attended Kate’s schoolroom were lucky to have more than one meal per day. Joshua preferred an existence of simplicity over profligacy and extravagance. The life of the ton made Joshua uncomfortable and, in many ways, useless. His grandmother had held similar ideals, which had bonded them closer than most.

A brisk breeze blew down the street, ruffling his collar and hair. The crisp cold was welcome on his skin. It was only here, in Cheapside, that Joshua had found his place—a new outlook on the future and what was possible. He was able to help people here…those truly in need of his assistance. Unlike his Bond Street office, were his staff toiled day in and day out, drafting agreement after agreement between wealthy, titled lords who’d never know the struggles of inaccessible legal services and education.