Page 22 of The Gilded Heiress

Holding out his hand, Leo reached in to help me down. I eased out of the carriage carefully, terrified of wrinkling Martha’s

precious silk gown. It fit perfectly, as if it had been sewn to my frame. Polly, Sticks’s mother, had performed a miracle

on my hair and I felt like a true princess as I stepped to the walk.

Leo’s gaze traveled up and down my frame. “You look perfect, Josie.”

My stomach warmed, some of my nerves dissipating. The compliment wrapped around all the cold and empty places inside me, the

aches of a little girl who’d never been right for anyone. It was exactly what I needed to hear. “Thank you.”

We started across the street. The opera house entrance, with its huge rounded arches, loomed ahead. I drew in a deep breath

and let it out slowly.

“Are you ready?” he asked.

“I think so. My only task is to remain silent.”

“That’s right. I’ll lead you around at the intermission and introduce you to various people. You’ll smile and say nothing.”

“Feels strange, not to talk.”

He chuckled. “For you, I believe it. But this will ensure everyone’s interest in you. Melvin’s quite brilliant.”

I knew this was true, but lying to people didn’t sit right with me. For Melvin, though, I would do it.

Streams of operagoers hurried all around us. The gowns were gorgeous, with ostrich feathers and silk top hats bouncing in every direction. I clung to Leo’s arm and allowed him to lead me through the crush, while I concentrated on not tripping in my borrowed evening slippers.

“Slow down,” I finally whispered. “These shoes are not easy to walk in.”

He frowned at me. “Quiet, remember.”

“Then don’t walk so quickly.”

We entered the opera house on the Broadway side. I couldn’t see much, due to the crush, but Leo was taller than most of the

other patrons. He dodged and weaved until we reached the ticket window.

“Miss Joséphine Smith,” he told the man at the window. “There should be two tickets waiting.”

The man checked his list. “I don’t have them, sir. Best to check around the corner at the Thirty-Ninth Street entrance.”

Leo tipped his top hat. “Thank you.”

We pushed through everyone trying to come in, but it wasn’t easy. I feared for the state of Martha’s skirts with how people

were jostling me. When we reached the walk, I breathed a sigh of relief. “Why are they making us use a back entrance?” I asked

Leo.

“No idea, and keep quiet.”

I hadn’t forgotten, but it was hard not to use my voice. I pressed my lips together tightly and gave Leo’s arm a squeeze.

Shockingly, the people entering on Thirty-Ninth Street were even fancier. Under their fur-edged capes, ladies were draped

in elaborate silk gowns, the intricate beadwork sparkling in the yellow gaslight. Gentlemen, fashioned in black and white,

wore serious expressions as they escorted their women along a long red carpet, while perfectly polished black carriages lined

the curb, their matching horses standing proudly. It was a dizzying glimpse into a world I’d only heard about: New York’s

High Society.

This couldn’t be the right place for Leo and me. I tried to pull on his arm, but he kept moving forward, like he’d done this

a hundred times. “Leo,” I tried quietly.

“Come on,” he said and approached the door.

A staff member held up his hand, looking us up and down. “May I help you, sir?”

“The ticket man on the other side told us to enter here,” Leo said. “On Thirty-Ninth Street.”

“Ah, I see. Follow me.”

We trailed the staff member inside to a small window and Leo gave my name. Our tickets were produced and we were shown to

the stairs. “Miss Smith,” another staff member said after checking our tickets. “Please, follow me to your box.”

Box? I was prepared to sit in the top balcony. Perhaps stand on the floor. But a box?

This had to be a mistake.

As if he could feel me about to speak, Leo squeezed my arm in a silent message. To the staff member, he said assuredly, “Very

good. Lead the way.”

We climbed a set of ornate marble stairs, complete with brass fixtures and a plush carpet. Never had I been inside a building

this grand. The back of my neck twitched as uneasiness crawled along my skin. Would everyone spot me as a fraud? How could

I ever appear as if I belonged here?

“Relax,” Leo whispered. “Confidence, remember?”

Right. I needed to show confidence before I could feel it. Pushing my shoulders back, I kept my head high. My mouth was bone-dry,

so it was a good thing I wasn’t supposed to speak tonight.

After another flight, we started down a narrow corridor. To the left were salons and retiring rooms, while on the right were

open doors. There were brass plaques with numbers hanging above each doorway, and we kept walking toward the middle. Finally,

we stopped and the young man waved his arm. “Here you are. Programs and champagne are inside the salon. The seats are through

the curtain. Enjoy the performance.”

Leo produced a coin from somewhere and handed it to the attendant. “Thank you.”

I couldn’t wait a moment more. We had a box at the opera house, something I’d never dreamed possible. I hurried into the tiny salon, but kept going. I needed to see the inside and the stage.

On the other side of the curtain a glittering golden fantasy greeted my eyes. Holy smokes! This place was beautiful . I sucked in a breath and tried not to swoon.

Gaslights flickered overhead to illuminate rows and rows of seats and boxes that faced a huge stage. A towering proscenium

framed the closed curtain, while patrons milled about on the floor below. Most of the other boxes were empty, but I couldn’t

take my eyes off the stage. What would it feel like to perform at a place like this, to have all these people staring at you?

Someday I’ll find out.

“What do you think?”

I turned at the sound of Leo’s soft voice. When I opened my mouth to speak, he held up his hand. “No talking, remember.”

I frowned. How was I supposed to share what I was feeling if I couldn’t talk?

But Leo was perceptive. His lips twisted into a fond smile. “I can tell you love it. It’s breathtaking, isn’t it?”

I nodded vigorously and looked around, wishing to memorize every detail. Who knew when I’d return?

Leo touched my arm. “Come. Let’s have a glass of champagne before the performance starts. We can speak freely in there.”

I didn’t want to leave yet, but privacy meant I could ask all the questions burning my tongue. Once in the salon, I blurted,

“Christ, did you see it? I’ve never imagined a place so grand. How did we get this box? Does it belong to Melvin, do you think?

Have we the funds to pay for this champagne?”

Leo handed me a full glass. “Drink and try to calm down. You’re a famous singer from Paris, Josie. When we return to our seats

out there, you need to appear as if this is old hat to you.”

I knew he was right, but it wasn’t going to be easy. I was a singer, not an actress.

Lowering myself onto the sofa, I brought the glass to my lips and swallowed half the bubbly. It burned as it went down, but it wasn’t often I had the opportunity to drink champagne.

Leo sat next to me, a glass cradled in his elegant fingers. If he felt out of place, I certainly couldn’t tell.

“To answer your many questions,” he said, “I did see it and it is indeed grand. According to the plaque by the door, the box

belongs to a shareholder, Mr. Wetmore. I assume Melvin is friendly with Wetmore, who loaned out the box for the night. And

the champagne is complimentary.”

“You think I’m silly.”

“No. I think you’re adorable.”

He was staring at me with affectionate amusement, like I was an annoying younger sister. It didn’t help. I felt out of place,

a fraud. As if I’d be kicked out at any moment and exposed as a liar to the entire world.

There was every chance I could ruin everything before we even began.

I swallowed more champagne, hardly noticing the burn this time. I had to find my spine. This crowd had to believe I was one

of them—worldly and experienced, beautiful and rich. But how?

I needed confidence. My eyes slid to Leo again. I needed him to distract me and make me feel wanted, like he had in the park.

I didn’t stop to think if it was a good idea or not. Putting my glass down, I blurted, “I need you to kiss me.”

His amusement died, his expression turning blank. “What?”

“I’m too nervous and I don’t want to drink too much champagne. I know kissing isn’t professional and you don’t want me like

that. But I’m about to jump out of my skin, Leo. Help me.”

“Take a few deep breaths,” he advised, though his gaze darted to my mouth.

“It won’t work. I’m telling you, a quick kiss will distract me.”

He shook his head. “We shouldn’t. What happened in the park was a bad idea. Besides, what if someone walks in?”

Those were valid points, but I was too anxious to care. My corset felt too tight, the lighting too bright. My heart was racing like a rabbit in my chest. We would be the topic of conversation and speculation tonight, all those fancy people judging me, and I needed to quiet my thoughts.

I placed my glass on the side table and edged closer to him. He froze. “What are you doing?”

Being careful not to wrinkle my dress or ruin my hair, I put my hand on his chest and leaned in. Our faces were close and

I could feel his heart thundering beneath my hand. “I know it’s madness. Yes, you’re a scoundrel, a terrible choice for me,

but you’re here and I’m desperate. Kiss me, Leo. Please.”

He still didn’t move, though our mouths were only inches apart. “If I kiss you, everyone will know what we’ve been doing in

here. Your lips will be swollen and I’ll be as hard as wood.”

Hard as wood? Did that mean he desired me too? Maybe a tiny bit?

Encouraged, I boldly placed my other hand on his thigh. “Help me, Leo. Make me feel beautiful, like I belong here. Please. ”

Finally—finally!—he closed the distance between our mouths. He brushed his lips across mine and the familiar electricity jumped

between us, heat and sparks that went bone-deep, and I sighed with satisfaction. Before I knew it his tongue was in my mouth—or

maybe mine was in his?—and he tasted like champagne and secrets and man. Like Leo. I had a brief thought that the intoxicating

combination should be bottled like elixir for lonely people everywhere.

My plan worked, because I soon forgot about our surroundings, why we were here. Everything fell away, leaving Leo and me in

our own little haven. As our tongues slid together, flicking and dancing, I clung to him, desperate for more. More kisses,

more touching. I wanted to feast on this man.

It was foolish, my craving for him. I’d determined this morning never to repeat what happened yesterday, to keep our interactions professional, and yet I’d asked for this kiss. Needed it like air.

I angled my head as he shifted to drop kisses along my jaw, then I gasped when he sank his teeth into my throat. “You are

wanted. You are beautiful. Never doubt it for a single second in my presence.”

The words wrapped around my heart, knitting together a few of the fragments of doubt and slivers of uncertainty. “Don’t stop.”

“This is madness.” He dragged his tongue over the sensitive skin of my collarbone, his breath hot. “Your dress will be ruined.”

Who cared about ruined dresses?

Not me. Not while his mouth was working magic on my skin. I wanted to feel him everywhere, to explore and be explored, and

to allow these dizzying sensations to spiral out of control. My breasts were heavy, aching, while my nipples were tight against

the corset, and the pounding beat between my legs was almost unbearable.

“Please, Leo. Touch me.”

Nimble fingers began lifting the layers of cloth covering my legs. He put his mouth near my ear to whisper, “Are you wet for

me, sweetheart? Let me—”

The lights flickered overhead.

“Shit,” Leo hissed. Panting, we broke apart, our breathing harsh in the relative quiet. Without a word, he rose from the sofa

and faced away as he adjusted himself in his clothing. Smoothed his hair and coat. “We should take our seats,” he said after

a beat. “The performance will begin soon.”

Indeed, the performance. The reason we were here.

The fever in my blood cooled significantly. Be professional, Josie. He didn’t want to kiss you, but he did you this favor.

At least I wasn’t as nervous now. Bully for me. And I had no reason to be cross or hurt. Leo hadn’t lied about his feelings for me, not once. He didn’t want anything other than a working relationship, so I should be grateful he’d bent the rules this one time.

Standing, I shook out my skirts. Ignoring the way he tensed when I approached, I patted his chest. “Thank you, Leo. I admit,

it’s nice having a tomcat around for moments like this. Your skills do come in handy.”

Instead of grinning at my attempt at humor, he frowned, his eyebrows low as he stared at me. I couldn’t read his thoughts,

the cheerful blue of his eyes mostly swallowed up by stormy gray. Was he unhappy?

Before I could ask, his expression cleared and his practiced, happy-go-lucky smile returned. “At your service, sweetheart.

Now, let’s get out there and give New York City a real show.”

I walked to our seats in the box, hating that smile of his.