Page 9 of Fortune’s Final Folly

“Good day, Miss Kate,” he greeted, tipping his head to her as she passed. “Enjoy your walkabout.”

“Lovely to see you again, Mr. Stuart.” Kate nodded but did not stop to inquire about his presence at the cobbler’s. He, as any person in Cheapside must, had the need to visit the cobbler’s shop every now and again. The soft flapping of her boot sole reminded her of this fact.

Instead, she followed the children as they marched on, suppressing the urge to glance over her shoulder to see the solicitor continue across the street to his office. A small part of her wondered if he’d be staring at her if she turned back, his intense, dark eyes locked on her progress.

Kate shook her head and slipped her gloved hands into the pockets of her cloak, denying herself the irrational urge.

Her father had lectured her often on the evils of wayward thinking and daydreaming about people and places the good Lord would never bless the likes of Kate with. No, it was always best to focus on what she had been blessed with in her life as opposed to what she longed for.

Chapter 3

Joshua had all but taken up residence at his Cheapside office since he’d spoken with Cuttlebottom three days ago. The cobbler had been less than responsive to his well-worded warning that Joshua handled all of the woman’s business matters and the man should stay clear of Miss Katherina Elliott and her schoolroom. When the elderly man challenged him as to what might happen if he disregarded the sage advice, Joshua had hastily threatened to have the magistrate summoned. The foolish man had dared him to send for the authorities.

Dared him!

Instead of doing as he threatened, Joshua had retired to his office and searched the entire building for any record of Kate’s father’s intentions to sell his building to Cuttlebottom. There was none. Not a single document had been written by the vicar or Joshua’s uncle about any such transaction. His concern had been so great that Joshua had sent his assistant to look through the old files at his Bond Street office, as well.

Nothing. Not a single slip of paper to corroborate Cuttlebottom’s claims.

Yet, he could not go to Kate about the matter since she’d pleaded with him to refrain from speaking with anyone regarding the argument he’d witnessed.

He’d kept watch of the schoolroom from sunup to sundown, and Joshua was pleased to note Cuttlebottom hadn’t returned to harass Kate. Perhaps the man knew full well that there was no proof of Vicar Elliott’s intentions to sell the building, and he’d simply taken to pestering the woman out of spite. Or, mayhap due to old age and misremembered conversations. Joshua knew firsthand how cantankerous men could become as they aged. He’d seen it with his own father. So much so that Joshua had moved from the family townhouse in Belgrave Square to his far more modest accommodations in Cavendish Square, the home formally belonging to his paternal grandmother.

Henry cleared his throat at Joshua’s side, pulling him from his musings. He glanced up to see his assistant prepared to depart for the evening, a satchel over one shoulder, and his eyelids heavy.

“Go home, Henry.” Joshua attempted to direct a stern glare at the younger man; however, he was as tired as Henry was. “You need rest and a hearty meal.”

Henry shifted from one foot to the other, his hands gripping the strap of his satchel. “Are you certain, my lord? I could remain for another hour or so and help you. There is the Goosestein matter, and…”

Joshua glanced at the spare desk nearest the front window, the one with a clear view of Kate’s schoolroom. The surface appeared cluttered with much to do; he hadn’t accomplished anything in days—except keeping an eye trained on the buildings across the street.

“No, no,” he said, waving his hand. “I was about to leave for the evening, as well.”

“Very good, my lord,” Henry dipped his head. “I will be in first thing in the morning. Your calendar is in your office. Would you like me to send your coach around when I collect my horse?”

Joshua had patched the roof and hired a groom to care for the stable behind his office. It was large enough to house four horses and his carriage. Since taking over the building a few years prior, he’d also come to possess a half-dozen cats who thrived on the mice that had once overtaken the small stable.

Shaking his head, Joshua busied himself with stacking the folders he’d carried out to the front desk that morning to keep up the appearance of hours spent toiling over documents. “I planned to take my meal at Mr. Porter’s Inn down the road before journeying home.”

“Very well. Good evening.” The bell chimed above the door as Henry departed.

Joshua sighed, comfortable in the quiet solitude of his office. It was far simpler to feign work when no one was keeping a close eye on him. The sun was descending quickly, and the street between him and Miss Kate would soon be cast in deep shadows. No gas lamps lined the streets in Cheapside, and the night could be very unforgiving in its harshness. While Joshua made his living during the daytime hours, pickpockets, thieves, and miscreants thrived as soon as the sun set.

As he watched the two-story clapboard building across the way, a light flickered in the upstairs window, and someone could be seen moving about the top floor. Kate was likely preparing for the night. He wondered what occupied her many hours when she wasn’t teaching the children of Cheapside. What books did she read? What meals did she enjoy? What current events drew her notice? Joshua feared that during the evening hours and the days when the children did not attend school, Kate remained alone for hours—days—with no one to keep her company and nobody to banish the loneliness.

Joshua knew better than most how lonely and solitary life could be. Though he had a large family, they had very little in common. And in Cheapside, Kate had nothing in common with her neighbors. At times, he could envision her gowned in silks—or satin—entering a ballroom alongside London’s beau monde, and he had no doubt she would fit in perfectly. She would do more than fit in. She would capture the hearts and attention of everyone in attendance.

But that life would ruin a woman of Kate’s caliber. She was kind, caring, and compassionate—thinking of others far more than she thought of her own needs. The men and some women of the ton would mistake her kindness for weakness and strip her of all Joshua saw as good.

Joshua hadn’t spoken to Kate since running into her outside the cobbler’s shop after she’d specifically requested he not speak with Mr. Cuttlebottom about the matter he’d overheard. In fact, while he’d kept a close watch on her, he’d been actively avoiding her. He had little doubt she would ask about his visit to Cuttlebottom, and Joshua was not prepared to admit he’d gone against her wishes, though indirectly. He did not wish to quibble over semantics, especially when he was well aware he was in the wrong on the issue.

It didn’t matter that he’d done it to protect her, to show the old cobbler that while Kate’s family may be gone, she was not alone or without someone to look after her.

Yawning, his eyes grew unfocused, and his stomach growled with a fierceness that clawed at his insides.

Perhaps it was he who needed a decent night’s sleep and a hot meal.

He’d lied to Henry when he said that he was planning to take his meal at the inn before returning to his Cavendish Square townhouse for the night. The truth was, he’d requested that his coachman collect him later that evening when he was certain the cobbler had closed his shop and had returned to his residence several streets over. He wished to make sure Kate was safely tucked in bed, and the last candle extinguished from her upstairs window.