Page 5 of Fortune’s Final Folly

To say that having Miss Kate Elliott close was an added benefit to renting the building in Cheapside was not worth dwelling on. The elusive draw that always had him staring out the front window in hopes of gaining even the tiniest of glimpses of her was beyond his ability—out of his control—and something Joshua could not deny himself.

He’d longed to invite her to join him for a meal or perhaps a carriage ride to Hyde Park. The friendship they maintained was not to that level. More’s the pity. They’d been acquainted through his uncle’s solicitor’s firm for years, and neighbors after he’d rented his office across the street from her schoolroom, but neither had dared to go any further.

A wave. An afternoon chat. Once or twice a shared cup of tea while her students worked, but never more.

That did not stop Joshua from taking every opportunity to speak with Miss Kate. To ask after her day, to offer help with her students, or to simply be near her. Even if that meant visiting the cobbler next door to her schoolroom in the hopes of catching her eye as he walked past and having her invite him inside for a few moments while the children attended to their lessons or read books in silence.

Voices rose from within the schoolroom housed below Miss Kate’s small residence she’d once shared with her parents, though it wasn’t the laughter or conversation of her pupils.

One most certainly belonged to Miss Kate, but the other was deep, loud, and…angry?

It was not the raised, happy voices of children Joshua was used to hearing floating on the breeze or in through his open office windows and door.

Joshua quickened his steps, peering into the darkened schoolroom as his eyes adjusted to the dim interior.

The children who’d entered as he departed his office wiggled past him and headed back outside. The milk from the jug the girl carried sloshed over the top and nearly splashed the leg of Joshua’s trousers, but it saturated the front stoop instead.

“Sorry, Mr. Stuart,” Sally Ann said, dipping her head.

“No worries, little miss.” He chuckled. “They can be washed as easily as the floor. Who is with Miss Kate?”

“Ol’ man Cuttlebottom. And he be right miffed, he is.”

Joshua glanced around the schoolroom but Miss Kate and Cuttlebottom, the cobbler from next door, had moved out of sight into the back area. The spare space was used as a storeroom of sorts for supplies and other learning necessities.

“What is he upset about?” Joshua knew children, though seemingly unobservant, listened intently when they suspected something was afoot. Joshua had done much the same when he was young, especially when his father and grandmother embarked on one of their loud rows.

“He comes all the time to call and pester Miss Kate,” Sally Ann whispered. “And he smells worse than the butcher shop.”

True enough. There was a slightly pungent aroma in the room.

One of the boys tugged at Joshua’s jacket. “He be want’n Miss Kate’s schoolroom for hisself. I be have’n half a mind to thump the old bloke somethin’ good.”

Joshua stared at the children who’d gathered around him, silently waiting for him to handle the situation. He recognized some of the young ones by name and others only by sight.

“The lot of you wait here.” He gave the group a reassuring smile. “I am certain I can settle the matter for Miss Kate and Mr. Cuttlebottom.”

Kate had never told Joshua she was having an issue with anyone, let alone the cobbler. And wanting Kate’s schoolroom and residence? Bloody hell, Cuttlebottom had been Vicar Elliott’s close friend, and his grandchildren had grown up attending this very schoolroom.

Joshua made his way around the rows of tables with their benches pushed in, Cuttlebottom’s voice growing noisier and harsher as he neared.

When he stepped into the back room, Miss Kate stood facing him, her hair swept high atop her head in a severe knot with a few stray curls escaping, her hands on her hips. Cuttlebottom shook his fist in her face, and Kate’s bluish-grey eyes sizzled with warning as she took a step toward the old man.

“What is going on here?” Joshua demanded, moving between the pair. Cuttlebottom had no other option but to take a step back, his face molten red with fury. “Miss Kate”—he held up the parcel in hopes of defusing whatever had been transpiring between the pair— “I came to deliver this. The children said Mr. Cuttlebottom had come to visit you.”

Her hands fell from her hips, and her expression morphed into her familiar, welcoming smile. Only Joshua feared it was a mask she donned to diminish the severity of the situation he’d interrupted. “Thank you, Mr. Stuart. Mr. Cuttlebottom was readying to depart. He knows I teach class in the mornings.”

“Shall I walk you out, Mr. Cuttlebottom?” Joshua offered when the man made no move to leave.

His glare remained focused on Kate as he said, “I know my way out, Solicitor.” Cuttlebottom spit out the word as if he’d rather have called Joshua a colorful expletive. “But this is by no means over, girl.”

The cobbler spun around, nearly tripping over his own feet as he rushed from the room in a huff, slamming the door to the schoolroom behind him.

“Thank you,” Kate mumbled, busying herself with collecting a stack of primers from the shelf next to her. “Mr. Cuttlebottom can become quite nettled when the occasion strikes him.”

“What was he enraged over?” Joshua paused before adding, “if you do not mind my asking.”

Kate scurried past him, her arms full, and her gaze fixed on the uneven wood planked floor in front of her. “It is nothing. Truly.”