Page 15 of The Gilded Heiress

Leo

For a few moments after leaving Ambrose’s place, I actually considered a brothel. My skin was crawling, itching, as something

dark and dangerous threatened to undo all my hard work. I should purge the feeling out of my system. Regain my equilibrium.

Focus on the task ahead.

It had been a close call.

She’d been beautiful, staring up at me with her gorgeous eyes and angelic features. Except Josie was no angel. She was feisty

and stubborn, bold and clever, unafraid to push me. Everything I liked in a woman. No doubt she’d be fantastic in bed.

But those thoughts would only land me in trouble.

Second rule of being a confidence man: never lose sight of the endgame.

St. Elmer had drilled this into our heads, as young boys are notoriously unfocused. The moment you take your eye off the goal,

the instant you ease up or grow lazy, the game is over. You want the money? Then you have to put in the work.

Best to return after Josie was asleep and couldn’t tempt me anymore. With no destination in mind, I hopped on a late-night

omnibus headed north and cleared my mind of all things related to Josie.

When I raised my head, I was surprised to find myself on the corner of Fifth Avenue and Seventieth Street. The block where

the Pendeltons lived. It felt like fate.

I hopped off and stared across the street at the massive mansion. It hadn’t changed much in all these years. The fading light bathed the Gothic limestone structure in a burnt orange color, making it appear otherworldly, almost hellish. Which was fitting, I supposed, considering who lived there.

The home was every bit as imposing as I remembered. To a boy, it had been a palace. But now, sixteen years later, it was nothing

but a symbol of greed and decadence at the expense of good hardworking people.

People like Steven Hardy.

Many of the servants were let go or quit after the kidnapping, but not my father. He continued to work on the estate for two

more years while the investigation wore on. Then, without warning, the Pendeltons sacked him, leaving a family of seven without

income.

My father never talked about it after that, even going so far as to forbid the family’s name from ever being spoken in our

home. Being kicked out so abruptly turned him bitter and angry, a drunk. The fun-loving man who’d let me trail him through

the gardens here disappeared overnight. What had he ever done to this family to deserve such shabby treatment?

I hated the Pendeltons with everything inside me. I couldn’t wait for Josie to fool them and then I could collect that reward

money.

My father had poured his blood and sweat into the grounds here. He had overseen a team of men, but he’d personally obsessed

over every tree, every bush. Each tiny flower. Had the Pendeltons torn those up, too, like they tore up our family?

I had to know.

I started around the block, toward the rear of the estate.

The gate off the mews was still there, so as if I’d last done it yesterday, I reached over and felt for the latch on the other side, flicked open the catch, and pushed inside.

I closed the gate softly behind me. No one was around, so I eased deeper into the gardens, careful not to make any noise.

It was like stepping back in time.

The landscaping was much the same, except the trees were bigger, the bushes thicker. The flowers were different colors and

sparser, however, as if the gardeners had reduced the number of blooms. A shame.

Funny how it seemed like a jungle when I was a kid. Now it was a nicely manicured, albeit boring, garden. I stopped by a row

of arborvitae trees that my father had planted. They used to be tiny shrubs. Now they were tall points, forming a hedge along

the path. He would have loved seeing the fruit of his labor.

They look good, Papa. Sorry you didn’t get to see them.

“Ho! Who goes there? What are you doing here, mister?”

I flinched at the booming voice. An older man in faded trousers and a coat was coming toward me, so I held up my hands and

tried to appear nonthreatening. “I beg your pardon, sir. I wanted to look around a bit.”

“You can’t wander about in here,” he snapped. “Go on. Get out.”

I made a living as a confidence man because I could read people. And I could tell this man wasn’t angry with me—he was nervous.

It was obvious by the way his eyes kept darting toward the house. He didn’t want to get into trouble.

I spoke softly, palms out. “I mean no harm. My father used to work here in the gardens.”

He drew to a halt and peered at me. “Your father?”

“Yes. He was a gardener for the Pendeltons, way back in the day.”

“How long ago?”

“Sixteen years.”

The man scratched his head under his cap. “I’ve only been here three. They can’t keep good help around.” He jerked his head toward the house. “Head gardener before me only lasted sixteen months.”

Interesting. My father had lasted twenty years. “Why’s that, do you suppose?”

“Can’t keep anyone around, not since their girl was taken. You know, the baby.” He shook his head. “Sad thing, it was.”

“Indeed. They never found her?” I pretended not to know.

“You didn’t hear?” After I shook my head, he continued. “Offered a big reward. Hired Pinkertons. No sign of her anywhere.

Disappeared without a trace.”

“How sad.” I put a great deal of sympathy in my voice. “And the family? You said they can’t keep good help.”

He glanced over his shoulder. “I shouldn’t be speaking ill of Mr. and Mrs. Pendelton.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t say anything.” I stuck out my hand and adopted an affable smile. “Robbie. Robbie Youngblood.”

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Youngblood. I’m George Richards. Everyone calls me Georgie, though.”

“A pleasure, Georgie. Would you show me around a bit? Is the old fountain still running?”

“No, sir. They removed that years ago. Come on. I’ll show you.”

We wandered away from the big house deeper into the gardens. “You’ve done a marvelous job here, Georgie.”

“Thank you. We do what we can. It’s down to just me and two other men. I’m the only one here full-time.”

“And you live on the property?”

“In the stables. There’s plenty of room in there, since they only keep the two grooms now.”

Two grooms? I remember six or seven men in the stables, along with almost a dozen horses. “We never lived on the property

when my father was here. We had a house downtown, but he let me tag along with him.”

“I imagine much of this was his work, then.” Georgie pointed to the rosebushes.

“Oh, yes. I remember helping him with those.” We continued along the path. “The carriage house... is it still a smaller replica of the mansion?”

“It is, though it’s fallen into some disrepair. We can’t get them to fix the leaky roof.”

“They have the money. Why not fix it?”

“Mr. Pendelton, he’s busy with his company. Mrs. Pendelton, we don’t see her much. Rumor has it she hardly leaves her room.”

I shoved my hands in my pockets and considered this. If true, it would make getting Josie and Mrs. Pendelton in the same room

together a challenge. “That so?”

“The estate manager and the butler, they do what they can for the place. But it seems she’s given up over the years.”

A minuscule twinge of sympathy tightened in my chest. I resolutely pushed it aside. What happened with their daughter was

a tragedy, but they’d been callous and cruel to my family. If I swindled a buck or two from these people to put the Hardys

back on their feet, I wasn’t going to lose sleep over it.

“She never leaves at all?” I asked.

“Once or twice a month. The opera. Never anywhere else. I hear the grooms talking about it.”

This was excellent news. The opera meant she loved singing. And knowing she attended the performances gave me something to

work with. I’d need to think on it.

We stopped by a patch of dirt. I stood in this spot for long hours as a child. “This was the fountain at one time, am I right?”

“Indeed, sir. It was right here. I can’t get anything to grow in its place. A shame.”

“There used to be big fish and frogs.”

“I’m told the fish developed some disease and all died. That’s when they tore the fountain out.”

Christ almighty. The place really was cursed. “Well, I should be on my way.” I held out my hand again. “Georgie, I appreciate

your time. Keep up the good work.”

“It was nice to meet you, young man. What do you do now?”

I puffed out my chest. “I’m a manager. Actors and actresses on Broadway.”

Fourth rule of being a confidence man: keep your lies as close to the truth as possible.

Georgie’s face broke out in a big smile as he slid his cap higher on his forehead. “Sakes alive, that’s impressive! I never

see any musicals or plays.”

“That’s too bad. Maybe I’ll send over some tickets one of these days. The next time we have a show opening.”

He looked thrilled at the offer. I didn’t know if I could ever make good on it, but I sounded as if I might.

Slapping my shoulder, he said, “That’s very generous of you, Mr. Youngblood.”

“Please, call me Robbie.”

We spoke a few more minutes and then I bid him farewell. I hurried from the gardens, a spring in my step. I’d learned quite

a bit from Georgie. Now I just had to come up with a plan to put Josie into Mrs. Pendelton’s path.

Josie

I woke up the next morning in a foul mood. I’d tossed and turned all night, hardly sleeping as I listened for Leo’s return.

He finally stumbled in around two o’clock. I heard cursing and a loud thump, as if he’d hit his leg or head on the furniture.

The whole time I imagined him in bed with some woman, laughing and having a grand time without me. I was sick to my stomach

over it.

I feel as if a night of debauchery is just what this degenerate tomcat needs.

I hated it. I hated his attractive face and boyish smile. His long legs and lean body. And I absolutely loathed that he was able to go out and have fun while I stayed home. It wasn’t fair.

I didn’t bother trying to keep quiet when I came out to make breakfast. There was Leo, flat on the sofa, still in the suit