Page 24 of The Gilded Heiress

She had to believe me honest and trustworthy, not an accomplished liar.

For once, the words weren’t easy to force out. “I did that for you. Because it’s what Melvin wanted, what will help your career.

I felt awful lying to those people too.”

Her shoulders relaxed, clearly relieved at my answer. “Good. I started to worry for a minute or two. You sounded so believable that even I started to think I was a famous Parisian singer.”

I laughed like this was a big joke. “I want this to work. And, Josie, it will. You were perfect out there. Lotta would be

very proud.”

She started for the door to the corridor, her skirts rustling as she moved. “Lies are nothing to be proud of, Leo.” She disappeared

through the door and I was alone.

I threw back the contents of my glass. The champagne tasted like ash in my mouth.

Josie

If I didn’t take a moment to breathe, I would scream.

All those people and their incessant questions... They stared at me like I was one of the animals in the Central Park Menagerie.

Curiously, as if waiting for me to do or say something outrageous. I hadn’t liked lying to them.

Leo, on the other hand, had lied so smoothly. Too smoothly.

It shouldn’t bother me. He was good with people, always knew what to say. His cocksure demeanor exuded confidence and people

relaxed around him—including me. Seeing him tonight, hearing the lies fall so easily from his mouth, reminded me of Lotta’s

warning about him. And Martha’s warning. Hell, even Melvin had seemed suspicious of Leo.

It was all overwhelming. I needed a break.

Thankfully the corridor was empty. I started toward the retiring room, but stopped. I’d met nearly this entire tier during

intermission— lied to nearly the entire tier during intermission. I couldn’t face any of them right now.

I made my way toward the stairs.

An usher opened the door for me. I smiled and pointed up, a question in my eyes. “Retiring room?” I whispered, hating the charade of having no voice.

“Yes, miss. There is one for ladies at either end of the tier.”

I thanked him and continued on, careful of my skirts. This wasn’t how I ever dreamed of attending the Metropolitan Opera,

unable to speak and pretending to be someone I’m not.

Someday I’ll be on that stage. And I’ll not pretend to be anyone else.

As I entered the next tier, I felt my shoulders relax. No one knew me up here. I was a stranger, just another theatergoer

enjoying a night out. When I reached the ladies’ retiring room at the far end, I glanced around, certain I was lost. This

was a retiring room? The space was every bit as opulent as the rest of the theater, with a crystal chandelier, velvet sofas

and chairs, and brass fixtures.

“It is far too much, wouldn’t you say?”

A woman was seated on a sofa. Her beaded evening gown was elegant, but she wore little jewelry and her dull blond hair was

pulled into a simple style. A haunted weariness shone in her eyes, much like the nuns at the asylum. It was the look of a

person who’d seen too much heartache and tragedy to be cheerful.

I gave her a polite smile. “I beg your pardon?”

Shit. I wasn’t supposed to talk. Five minutes away from Leo and I’d already screwed up.

“The room,” she said. “A tad gaudy, wouldn’t you say?”

With my silence already broken, I saw little use in continuing the pretense. I drew closer to where she was sitting. “It’s

not relaxing, at least not for me. I’m worried I’ll break something.”

“Are you particularly clumsy?”

“Yes. No.” I shrugged and offered a tiny chuckle. “Maybe? With all this fancy glass and crystal around, I feel like a donkey

at a debutante ball.”

That caused her lips to twitch like she might laugh. “One would never know it. You are a beautiful young woman.”

I could feel my skin heating. I wasn’t used to compliments from strangers. “Thank you.” The older woman didn’t move, and I found myself curious about her. I lowered myself into a nearby bench. “Are you escaping the performance? Or all those people out there?”

“What makes you think I’m escaping?”

I tapped my temple. “Like recognizes like, ma’am.”

“You are very perceptive. I know my excuse. However, I can’t understand why you would need to escape. Is your escort misbehaving?”

I thought of Leo and his lies. “No, it’s not him. I feel like a camel out there, with everyone staring at me.”

“A donkey and a camel? Goodness, you have quite the imagination.”

Pippa always said the same growing up. What else could an unwanted orphan do but make up fun stories to ease the loneliness?

“Guilty. You’re probably used to these fancy crowds, but it’s new for me.”

“Not used to them, no. Learned to tolerate them, yes. I used to love it, but then—” She shook her head. “The key is to smile

and never let them inside your head or your heart.”

“That is decent advice.”

“Unfortunately, I have experience in this area. Are you new to Manhattan?”

“First trip. I’ve recently arrived from... Paris.” I caught myself just in time.

“Ah. It is the perfect city for someone young and pretty like you. Full of excitement and fun. But there are dangerous elements

as well. Be careful.”

“Oh, thank you. I’ll be fine.” I’ve been taking care of myself nearly my whole life, after all. “But I appreciate the warning.

Have you lived here long?”

If my invasive question bothered her, she gave no indication. “All of my forty-five years.”

“You must love it, then.”

I expected her to agree, but the lines in her forehead deepened thoughtfully. “I both love and hate this city. It’s my home,

but there are many bad memories. I keep telling myself I should move away.”

“So why don’t you?”

“Hope.” She lowered her gaze to stare at her hands clasped in her lap. “It’s a terrible thing, hope. It’s a prison without

walls.” Without warning, she rose and straightened her skirts. “I should return to my seat. My husband is no doubt wondering

where I am. It’s been very nice chatting with you, Miss...?”

“Smith.” I stood and offered my hand. “Nice to meet you, ma’am.”

She touched my hand lightly, as if unused to the concept of a handshake. “Likewise. Enjoy the rest of the performance and

your time in New York.”

“I will. Good evening.”

Regal and calm, she floated to the door and disappeared through it. It was then I realized she didn’t return the introduction.

I was slightly disappointed. For a moment I thought I’d made a friend here.

An attendant hovered inside, ready to offer assistance, so I asked, “Do you know the name of that nice older woman who was

in the outer room a moment ago?”

A worried expression came over the attendant’s face, a pinch to her lips as if the question distressed her. Maybe she was

hard of hearing or didn’t speak English. Whatever the reason, my question rattled her. I smiled and put my palms up in apology.

“Never mind. I shouldn’t have asked. Have a lovely night.”

I left and returned to the corridor, where muted sounds of the orchestra filled the space. Violins swelled, signaling a dramatic

point in the story, and I suddenly regretted missing the performance. Who knew when I’d return here? I needed to soak in every

minute.

If life has taught me anything, it was to make the most of each opportunity.

I hurried down to the lower tier and our box. When I emerged from the curtain I swore I saw relief on Leo’s face. Had he been

worried about me?

Of course he had. He was worried I would ruin the evening by talking or telling someone my real name.

After I retook my seat, Leo leaned over. “Where were you?” When I opened my mouth to answer, he put up his hand. “Wait, tell

me later. Save your voice.”

I watched the performance, my chin high. I felt better. Perhaps it was meeting that woman in the retiring room, but I suddenly

felt as if I could do this. I could pretend to be someone else, dazzle and charm the snobbish Knickerbocker crowd. All I had

to do was smile and not let them in my head or my heart.

And that included Leo as well.