Page 38 of Fortune’s Final Folly

All while A’laya had been slowly dying on the inside.

“Please ride close to the carriage, my lady,” Lord Joshua warned as he offered to assist her onto her horse. “Chapman will keep watch. The distance is not overly far.”

Katherina stood in the shadows near the carriage, holding a basket A’laya hadn’t seen her collect.

“She will listen. I promise,” he whispered in A’laya’s ear. “Kate—she is known as Miss Kate to everyone in Cheapside—has encountered much change and uncertainty of late. However, she is always understanding, even with those undeserving of her time. Though I pray that is not the case here.”

Atop her mare, A’laya kept a close watch as the solicitor returned to the carriage and assisted her daughter inside.

A’laya also prayed she was deserving of Katherina’s understanding and kindness.

She prodded her mare into a slow trot and fell in line beside the conveyance. The crisp London night air bit at her face and instantly chilled the tears that began falling once more.

There was much A’laya had to be thankful for as she kept pace through the darkened streets: finding her daughter in good health, the compassion of the solicitor, and the hope that A’laya had held onto every day, even when it threatened to abandon her in hard times.

Mostly, A’laya was thankful the turn of the carriage wheels and the clopping of the horse’s hooves masked the gut-wrenching sobs that erupted from her without restraint.

Chapter 14

Kate sat across from Joshua in the carriage, desperately trying to suppress the urge to pull the drapes aside and press her face to the foggy glass to keep watch on the woman who trailed them on horseback. She succeeded and forced her hands to remain in her lap, though tightly winding and unwinding the fabric of her skirts, crushing the material until it was beyond wrinkled. This woman, this stranger, held all the secrets…answers to things Kate hadn’t known to look for. She could not risk having her questions go unanswered for even one more day.

The possibility that the countess—her mother—would disappear into the night as quickly as she’d appeared was nearly as frightening as accepting everything the woman claimed to be true. Why should it matter that some lord she’d never heard of before the fire and his parents had sent her away? The vicar and his wife, the two people Kate adored above all else, had loved her in return. They’d raised her in a safe home and encouraged her to be a kind and caring person. Yet they’d hidden a momentous and life-altering truth from her all these years. Had it weighed heavily on them? If they were still with her, would they be remorseful? Would they have broken down and insisted that she find her true family?

Had the secret slowly crushed her parents over the years as Kate grew up? Did they sense that Kate never truly belonged with them or in Cheapside? And if the countess hadn’t found her this night, would Kate have ever discovered the truth of her past?

Everything should be far simpler than it was. Kate had believed herself alone in the world only that morning. Now, she’d discovered that she had a mother and possibly more family. She wasn’t alone. Nor was she plain Miss Kate. She was Lady Katherina De Vere. If she could not find the funds to fix the schoolroom, it would not mean that she’d be left without a home or would be dependent on Joshua’s charity with no plans for her future. The news she’d just received changed everything. Not how she felt about others, but how she felt and accepted herself. For so long, she’d built this wall between herself and those around her, especially with Joshua. But as her mother had spoken, that barrier had crumbled, exposing all of Kate’s misconceptions about her past, her present, and all the stark possibilities her future now held.

She had a mother…family, even if it only turned out to be the two of them. From the haphazard appearance of the countess, Kate doubted she had much more to her name than Kate herself did. Though, as the vicar—Kate’s mind halted—no, he was still her father despite their lack of shared blood. Her father had always told her that possessions did not make the man, nor could one be fulfilled and whole simply because they possessed a grand house, servants, and coffers of money.

Pain sliced into her palm, and Kate looked down to see her fists clenched so tightly that her nails had bitten through her gloves and into the soft skin beneath.

“Kate?” Joshua took hold of her hands and leaned so close she could smell his spiced scent. This man, someone who had been no more than a neighbor and acquaintance not long ago, had turned into her only constant. He helped but asked nothing of her. He listened but never dictated what she should do. He’d had the foresight and ingenious idea to seek out Shrewbury and the bank who held her account, but he’d never forced any decisions upon her. He always knew what to do, where to go, and whom to trust. All while Kate seemed continually on the verge of falling apart…helpless and despondent.

Looking up from their clasped hands, Kate met his brown stare. The resolute persona she’d managed since meeting the countess crumbled. She’d felt it happening on the inside but only now, with Joshua close, did she let it show outwardly. If she were a spool of thread, she’d surely be unraveling, winding across the ground, never knowing when it would all come to an end or where she’d end up when it did.

“When you offered to help me, I imagine you did not expect for all this…trouble.” She sighed on the last word, unable to pull a better term from her addled haze. “The workmen said the upper floor of the schoolhouse is suitable for living again while the repairs are made. I think it best if I return—”

Joshua had his own life to live. His attention was better focused on his businesses and his clients, not her. She’d brought messiness into his neatly organized life. And it appeared that things would likely spin even more out of control before Kate could get a firm grasp on everything.

He shook his head as he slipped from the seat across from her in the moving carriage to kneel on the floor between them, his body swaying gently from the conveyance rocking to and fro. “I cannot let you go. Not now…with everything.”

“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.