“She was my grandmother’s companion for twenty years. After her passing, I could not turn the woman out. She had no family besides me.” Joshua stood, moving to the bank of windows and pulling the draperies back to reveal the rising sun. “She would not remain here on charity. So, she assumed the role of my housekeeper. Not that I see her as such or ask much of her.”
“I can understand a person’s need to feel useful and earn their keep.” Isn’t that what Kate had always attempted to do? Kate bit into her toast, savoring the tangy plum marmalade as she chewed.
With the drapes pulled back, Kate was able to see the room more clearly. An old painting of a woman with long, brown hair hung above the hearth. Behind her stood a man with an upturned chin, piercing green eyes, and a nose that appeared startlingly similar to Joshua’s. On the woman’s lap sat a babe dressed in vibrant blue hues. Standing near the man was a toddler, another boy. The portrait was striking, yet none of the four in it appeared happy.
“My grandparents,” Joshua spoke. He’d returned to the bedside. “With my father and uncle. These were Grandmother’s chambers.”
Something tightened within Kate at the tone of his voice when he spoke. Longing and a sense of loss permeated the air between them.
“After my grandfather passed and my father took over the dukedom, Grandmother retired here to Cavendish Square at her family’s home.” His tone softened. “My sibling and I were left to stay with her for weeks, sometimes months at a time. My parents traveled most of the year and did not relish their children as hangers-on. Grandmother was a kind, loving woman. She, with Dolly’s help, basically raised my brother and me. I was very close to both women.”
“What of your brother?” Kate asked. It was another surprising fact about Joshua that she’d never thought about—he had a brother. Kate sometimes longed for such a connection, a kinship with a sister or brother close to her age.
Joshua’s chin dropped, and he focused on the rug at his feet. “He took far too much after my father and grandfather. He loathed my grandmother’s paltry—his word, not mine—existence. As soon as he was old enough, he moved permanently to my father’s townhouse and began learning everything he needed to know in order to take over my father’s title when the time came.”
“Yet, you remained here.”
“Until I left for Oxford—at my uncle’s insistence—yes.” He chuckled. “Despite my brother being the heir apparent, I was the lucky one. My grandmother hired the finest tutors, we visited every museum within a day’s carriage ride, and I learned to care for myself. Not every man is given such a gift.”
There was much Kate had presumed to know of the solicitor, yet startlingly little of it fit into this new understanding of the man.
He cleared his throat. “My apologies, Miss Kate. I did not intend to burden you with my family situation.” His weak smile told her that he had more he wished to share, but thought he’d said enough for the time being.
Kate longed to know more, craved a deeper connection to someone, something to help break away from the solitude she’d shrouded herself in.
“I sent my driver to appraise the damage to your building. The fire was contained on the first floor, the schoolroom for the most part, but was put out rather quickly. The flooring and two walls, as well as the front window and door, will need repairs. The smoke and soot left a mess, but your personal possessions were mostly unharmed.”
Only a single night spent in Joshua’s house, and Kate had nearly forgotten the travesty awaiting her in Cheapside. “Can we go see the building this morning?”
“Of course.”
Her hands trembled, and she set the plate aside before she spilled crumbs all over the expensive blue bedding. “The children…they will be worried.”
“Do not fret. I sent word to my assistant, Henry, to speak with each of the children as they arrived to make certain they knew you are well.”
He’d thought of everything. “Thank you, my lord.”
“Joshua.”
“Thank you, Joshua.” Kate swallowed, heat creeping up her cheeks at the use of his given name despite how often she’d thought of him as simply Joshua, not Mr. Stuart. “You have done too much. I am sorry to have burdened you with all of this. Please, have the physician send his bill to me.”
“It is what friends do. And the doctor has been taken care of.” He smiled shyly.
Kate had been relegated to a point where she needed another to care for her needs. It was a position she’d promised herself she would never be in. Yet, what other option did she have? She’d never seen a proper physician and had little notion of their fees, but the bill was likely more than what was left of the funds she’d received a few days prior.
“I will return the money as soon as I am able.” It was no wonder her father had liked and trusted the solicitor. He’d come to her aid, knowing she had no resources to repay him. And he’d called her friend. “Are we friends?”
Her cheeks flamed hotly at her bold question, while Joshua’s eyes widened before his eyelids lowered slightly. “I have always believed so, Miss Kate. Though if you have enough friends and do not wish to add me, I will rescind the offer.”
Kate laughed, her chest aching. Friends. Only friends. She’d be a fool to believe that there could be anything more between them. However, counting him as a friend was more than Kate should expect. “One can never have too many friends. Especially ones such as yourself, Joshua.”
“As I said last night, I was only in the right place at the right time.” He glanced toward the door, his unease apparent. Kate also realized the inappropriate nature of their conversation—especially alone in her bedchambers. Her temporary room in his house. “I had my driver collect a fresh gown from your dressing closet. I apologize that I haven’t any stowed away here. If you’d like to wash up and dress, I will have my carriage brought round to take us to your schoolroom.”
Joshua gave her a curt bow and exited the room, leaving her alone with her chest fluttering.
Could the flutter be a result of the smoke from the fire?
No, it most certainly was not.
She stared at the closed door, a vision of Joshua standing on the landing at her home filling her mind, the man backlit by flames and smoke. Yet, the image couldn’t be as it had actually happened. In her daydreams, Mr. Stuart—no, Joshua—was not wearing a shirt, and his intense stare never left her.
Kate shook her head as her father’s warning on such wayward thinking filled her with guilt.
Surprisingly, even to Kate, she realized the feeling was in no way accompanied by the remorse that generally followed.
Chapter 5
Kate removed her elbow from the surface of the pristine table linens and folded her arms in her lap, only to bring her hands to rest on the table once more as a door swung open to reveal a procession of three servants. The trio glided through the breakfast room with more poise and grace than Kate had ever managed in her short nineteen years. They held their serving dishes at precisely the same height as their skirts swooshed about their legs. One thing Kate noticed was that their half boots did not make a sound on the gleaming wood floor.
Unlike hers as she’d attempted to slip into the room without drawing Lord Stuart’s notice. Her heel still slapped the floor when she walked. Thankfully, most of the walk through his townhouse had been down hallways and stairs lined with plush, vibrant rugs that muffled the sound.
How was it possible that she felt more out of place here in this lovely, airy breakfast room overlooking the townhouse’s back gardens than she had when they were alone in her borrowed chambers the night before?
Clasping her hands in her lap once more, Kate leaned back as one of the maids sat a steaming bowl of porridge on the table next to a plate of ham. There was also toast and jam, as well as a pot of tea, and what Kate suspected was cocoa.
At the head of the table, Joshua watched her intently, making Kate all the more nervous.
“Tea, miss?”
Kate jumped in her seat, not realizing a maid stood next to her, her question spoken in a calm, even tone.
“Umm…” She glanced at the table and reached for the finely painted teacup and saucer. As she took hold of it, her fingers shook, causing the cup to clatter against its base. Kate paused, took a shallow breath, and then held it in as she grasped the handle in a firm hold. “Yes, please.” She exhaled.
She wasn’t used to being served, except for the few times she and her parents had journeyed to the inn down the street from their building. And that had been many years ago when she was still in the schoolroom.
When the maid paused to pour Joshua’s cup, he shook his head and dismissed her with a soft smile that Kate had seen him use with her students on many occasions. The other servants trailed after, and they closed the door behind themselves, leaving Kate alone with Joshua once more.
“I hope you slept well.” He collected the platter of meats and held it out to her. When she shook her head, he shrugged and started to pile his plate with the delicious-smelling ham. “I can say with almost certainty that the stench of smoke and burnt wood will likely never be removed from my jacket.”
Kate was uncertain what the correct response to his declaration was. Should she apologize and offer to replace the garment? Or commiserate with him regarding the likely ruination of her favored nightshift, as well?
Thankfully, he continued before she had time to decide.
“Between you and I,” he said, dropping his voice low and glancing around the room as if to verify that they were, indeed, alone, “I despised that coat. The collar was scratchy at my neck, and the sleeves were a half-inch too short. Not to mention the uselessness of the shallow pockets. It is my valet who thought the thing ‘the height of fashion.’ Mayhap I should have made him wear the dreadful thing for a few hours.”
Kate nearly caught herself laughing but held it in, preferring only an amused grin at this jest. The coat had likely cost more than her entire wardrobe, and it was her fault that it had gotten ruined. Besides, if she laughed, it would pain her chest as it had earlier when she coughed. The maid who’d come to tidy her room had assured Kate that she’d overheard the physician say the cough was from the smoke she’d sucked in escaping the fire and it shouldn’t persist more than a day or so.
It was exceedingly odd to think that only the previous evening, she’d wandered about her home alone, too conservative to even stoke the fire. And now, just one day later, Kate was here, sitting at a table with proffered tea, cocoa, and farther down the surface, blocked by a centerpiece of soft peach blossoms, a pot of coffee. Kate could smell the earthy, nutty aroma of a blend much akin to that offered by the bookseller in Cheapside.
And she and Joshua were speaking of ruined garments.
This was far removed from her normal morning conversations regarding the children’s time spent with family while Kate dwelled on her solitude.
“I have arranged for my carriage to be readied within the hour so we may go directly to Cheapside.” Joshua used his utensil to place a perfectly cut piece of ham into his mouth. After chewing for several moments, he swallowed and continued. “I am certain you are anxious to see your building. Quite frankly, I am, too.”
“Yes,” Kate mumbled. She collected a piece of toast and scooped porridge into her bowl. “I cannot imagine what I will do if everything is lost.”
Everything…what little was left from her parents. They’d lived simply, possessing only what they needed and giving the rest away, but there were still things that held great emotional value. Her mother had not gifted her much, but there was a quilt, a beaded bracelet, and a poem she’d scribed for Kate one Christmastide. Losing them in the blaze would wound Kate greatly.
Insignificant items, yet meaningful—if only to her.
“My man says the second floor is easily reachable. We shall be able to search for your possessions as long as we do not linger.”
We? Kate kept her eyes focused on her plate, though her thoughts were on Joshua.
No one had ever taken such an interest in her or her schoolroom. Most of her students’ parents hadn’t so much as even visited their children’s classroom.
“We have spent some time together, but I find I know little of you and your family,” Joshua mused.
Kate would not share that there were many times she felt as if she did not know much of her parents. They’d loved one another and their church, and they’d certainly been devoted to Kate and her well-being. Yet, devotion and love are two very different things in a practical sense.
Love was strong.
Devotion was intense—a responsibility, a duty, a burden.
“I mean to say, when they were with us, I enjoyed chatting with your father regarding many things. In fact,”—Joshua chuckled softly, setting his fork aside—“I believe it was he who insisted the Americans, with their religious ideology, would be the first to throw themselves at our mercy. And…heavens, what would he think of Napoleon being sent to St. Helena?”
Kate’s heart ached at the many small things she’d let go about her parents: her father’s love of political matters despite his commitment to the church, and her mother’s love of pastries, though her father called it gluttonous and sinful when her mother wasn’t listening.
“He did relish a rousing political sparring match,” Kate said.
“He certainly did. Do you remember the evening I came around and your father insisted I remain until he listed all of Henry VIII’s greatest feats?” Joshua poured coffee into his cup and added sugar and a healthy amount of milk to the brew. “I remember feeling envious of you being sent to bed.”
“And I’d longed to stay up and take part in the conversation,” Kate admitted.
Joshua’s eyes widened. “You know of Henry VIII, too?”
“Heavens, no,” Kate said. “I do not much care for the old king; however, I found it rather intriguing when my father grew passionate about a subject.”
Kate fell silent. The vicar hadn’t been fervent about anything to do with his daughter except insisting a pious, private lifestyle. It was a connection Kate had longed to share with her father, but he’d always kept her just out of reach. And Kate was uncertain why. In her youth, she’d believed it was because she was a mere girl. But as she grew older, she’d come to accept it was more than that, and something that would likely never change.
“Please, forgive me, Kate,” Joshua said softly. “I did not mean to cause you unrest.”
Kate lifted her gaze to meet his, blinking several times to clear her vision.
“You did not upset me,” she confessed. And he hadn’t; he’d only stirred feelings within her she’d suppressed for years. Without seeing her parents’ stark detachment every day, Kate had been able to dwell on the loving moments, the truly close moments they’d shared as a family. Unfortunately, those times were not nearly as numerous as she’d deceived herself into believing. “It is only that I cannot claim to know my parents any more than you, my lord.”
“Why do you say that?” Joshua leaned slightly forward, and a spiced-mint aroma floated toward Kate.
She swallowed, bringing her thoughts back to the conversation—a topic she’d never discussed with anyone. “They were my parents, certainly, but they never spoke to me regarding important matters. Or about themselves. I only knew both sets of grandparents were deceased, and both my mother and father were only children. They wed young, my father being twenty and my mother only sixteen, and they weren’t blessed to give their love to a child until later in life.”
To distract him from the topic, Kate shrugged and set about spreading jam on her toast.
Joshua must have sensed her unease as he turned his attention once more to his plate.
They ate in companionable silence for a stretch before the quiet in the room became too much for Kate. Her mind ran in circles in times such as these. She thought far too deeply into subjects she did not wish to dwell on, and the energy wasted would all be for naught because she�
�d still find no answers.
“While my sense of aloneness is greater now,”—Kate sighed—“it has always been present. I always noticed that I was different; as did many of the children in my mother’s school and in my father’s parish.”
Her skin tone wasn’t that of a normal English girl, her hair did not lay in large, bouncing curls but tight ringlets, and her eyes were not the muddy brown of both her parents. Everyone around them had taken note, especially Kate.
“I think in that regard we are much alike.”
Joshua’s words surprised her. How could the son of a duke feel alone or different? He’d been raised as part of the peerage, a class above Kate. He could afford things she never could. He was surrounded by servants, Dolly, and the man from his office.
“How can you feel different?”
“My desires for my future contrast greatly with those of my family.” He sat back in his chair, his plate empty and his cup drained. “I’ve set myself apart from them, and that has led to a very lonely existence, especially since my uncle’s and grandmother’s passing. I do not feel I belong among the ton, nor can I truly be a member of Cheapside. It is a position I accept, though.”
“My lord.” A footman entered the room, stopping to give a quick nod to Kate before addressing Joshua once more. “Your carriage is ready to depart.”
“Thank you, Smithe.” Joshua pushed back his chair and stood. “Miss Kate, please finish your meal at your leisure. I have a few things to gather in my study before we go. I will meet you in the front hall when you are finished.”
With a grin and a bow, Joshua departed the room, following after Smithe.
Kate had had much the same experience as he. She felt as if she didn’t belong in the place she’d spent her entire life. Certainly, for different reasons than his, but still, they shared a mutual solitude and a sense of not entirely belonging. Perhaps Joshua did understand her situation better than she imagined.
Glancing at her nearly empty plate, Kate knew she shouldn’t linger. She needed to see the damage to her building firsthand and decide how to handle it all.
Fortune’s Final Folly Page 6