Page 29 of The Gilded Heiress

Josie

Leo and I spent the next few hours on errands as dictated by Melvin. At the dressmaker I was measured and inspected, poked

and prodded for much longer than was comfortable. Then I sat for a photographer, which felt interminable, with different poses

and expressions. Finally, Leo and I stopped for a late luncheon at a small hotel restaurant, also paid for by Melvin.

After we ordered and our meals arrived, an easy silence fell between us. I sipped my tea and looked around, marveling at the

fancy women dining here. I couldn’t wait to be independent and wealthy, able to travel about luxuriously and perform. Where

everyone recognized me. Like Lotta.

Except Leo seemed to be receiving most of the attention during our lunch. The ladies lunching in the vicinity of our table

were admiring him quite openly. He was the youngest man here and definitely the best looking, but that didn’t give them the

right to ogle him, especially while I was sitting with him. I directed a pointed glare at our neighbor—and she looked away

guiltily.

“What has you frowning?” Leo asked as he added a splash of cream to his tea.

“Do you not even notice anymore?”

One eyebrow shot up. “Notice what?”

I leaned in and lowered my voice. “The women staring at you.”

The edges of his mouth twisted into a boyish grin, and his handsomeness struck me like an arrow to the gut. “Jealous?”

“No—and answer the question.”

“I don’t believe you.”

With a huff, I sat back and looked away. “Forget it.”

“Come now, I’m teasing. And the answer is I try to ignore it for the most part.”

“Why?”

He lifted his broad shoulders in a tiny shrug. “Because it’s just a face. I didn’t earn it.”

“But you said ‘for the most part.’ That implies there are times when you don’t ignore the attention.”

“Yes, when I use it to get what I want.”

“A woman to warm your bed, you mean.”

He set his silver spoon on the table carefully, lining it up with the other flatware. “Or a woman from whom I need a favor.”

“Like Lotta. And Martha.” I remembered the intimate way he’d smiled at them, like he knew a wicked secret. Part of me wished

he would smile at me that way.

I watched his lips hug the porcelain as he took a sip. Those lips were dangerous. I couldn’t stop thinking about that kiss

at the opera, the feel of him holding me, touching me. He was some kind of sorcerer with the ability to turn my bones to jelly.

Are you wet for me?

A tiny shiver worked its way down my spine. I didn’t know if this was how all lovers spoke, so real and raw, but I liked it.

And it made me realize that I knew next to nothing about his history. “Have you ever had a sweetheart?”

He blinked twice, teacup paused halfway to his mouth. “I don’t have time for that sort of thing.”

“What are you busy with? Your sales job?”

“Yes, as well as my family.”

The five sisters and his mother. “Tell me about Ambrose.”

“What would you like to know?”

“Let’s begin with how you met and how long you’ve known him.”

He looked down at the table, his fingers smoothing the white cloth carefully. “I’ve known him over ten years. We met through mutual friends in Boston growing up, and with similar interests we immediately hit it off.”

“What similar interests?”

“You’re asking a lot of questions today. Why the sudden curiosity?”

“Because I hardly know anything about you.”

“Well, I don’t know much about you, either,” he grumbled. “But I’m not peppering you with a dozen questions about your past.”

Why was he so surly? Did he never talk about himself with anyone? “You told me you were an open book.”

“When on earth did I say that?”

“When we left Martha’s. You said—”

“I get it.” He waved his hand. “You don’t need to recount the entire conversation. I told you my father died when I was young,

right?” I nodded, so he continued. “Ambrose had no family, so the two of us were apprentices of a sort with a salesman around

town.”

“You weren’t in school?”

Looking down, his eyes remained on the table. “There was no time for that. I had to earn money with my father out of the picture.”

“That must’ve been hard.”

“Life is hard, sweetheart.” He lifted his head and focused on my face. “But you already know that.”

Yes, I did. But I refused to be bitter about my past. I couldn’t change it, and I was more interested in the future. “I could’ve

had it worse. The nuns looked after Pippa and me. They were strict, but kind.”

“You must’ve given them headaches,” he said, his smile soft, almost affectionate. And it reached his eyes this time.

Butterflies erupted in my chest and for a second I almost forgot what we were talking about.

Which was certainly strange. That never happened to me.

I cleared my throat and focused on the plate of food in front of me instead.

“I didn’t make it easy on them, that’s for sure.

‘Ladies do not argue, Josie. Ladies do not interrupt when a person is speaking, Josie,’” I mimicked. “They weren’t sorry to see me go.”

“The nuns sound a lot like my sisters,” he muttered.

Though he sounded annoyed, I could tell he didn’t mean it. Not when he’d worked since a young age to take care of them. “Tell

me about them.”

“Oh, you don’t want to hear—”

“I do, I do. Please , Leo.”

He inhaled a deep breath through his nose, then exhaled out his mouth. “Let’s see. There’s the oldest, Flora. She’s a wild

one. Carolyn is next and she’s the most honest, trusting person I know. Hattie is in the middle, then Molly and Tess are the

twins.”

“Goodness. Your house must be loud.”

“It is.” He considered me, his pale blue eyes clear and bright. “They would most definitely like you.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re real and unpretentious. Unafraid of anything. And you never hesitate to take me to task.”

I picked at my fried fish and tried not show how much his observations pleased me. No one had ever spoken so highly of me

before. Except Pippa, maybe, but we were family. “I don’t think Pippa would like you.”

“Because I dragged you away to New York?”

“She doesn’t trust handsome men.”

“Aw, you think I’m handsome.”

I ignored him. The man was well aware of his good looks. “ And she worries that you’re taking advantage of me.”

Leaning in, he gave me a half grin. “You said in the park that you were going to take advantage of me.”

That voice. It was his low seductive purr, the same one he used with Martha, and I didn’t stand a chance.

Flames licked my insides as heat raced to every part of my body.

I struggled to breathe, the air in the room suddenly weighted with longing and desperation.

I stared into his eyes, my brain trying to make sense of what was happening.

Was he flirting with me?

No, it couldn’t be.

He’d been reluctant to kiss at the opera, not to mention he pulled away in Central Park. Leo didn’t harbor those sorts of

feelings for me.

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

I assumed the words were hyperbole, meant to bolster my spirits before we ventured out into the opera box.

But what if they weren’t?

I had to ask Pippa’s opinion. She was the only person I trusted to tell it to me straight.

“I need to send a letter to my friend, Pippa,” I blurted.

Leo sat back in his chair, his expression shuttering. “Sure. We can pick up materials today, if you like. What’s the rush?”

I couldn’t tell him the truth, that I needed advice about him, so I said, “I want to update her on Melvin and the Metropolitan Opera House. While it’s still fresh in my mind.”

“But I thought you never forgot anything.”

This was why I hated lying. I could never fool a soul with the simplest of fibs. “True, but I promised to tell her I arrived

safely. Otherwise, she’s likely to come here and track me down. By the way, are you ever going to tell me what you and Ambrose

were fighting about last night?”

Using his knife and fork, he cut a bite of chicken very carefully. “How much did you hear?”

“You’re answering a question with another question again.”

He took the time to chew and swallow the chicken before speaking. “He doesn’t believe I’m truly your manager.”

“Then what does he think we’re doing together.”

“Something inappropriate and unrelated to your singing career.”

“That’s ridiculous.” I said the words quickly, loudly, as if to convince both him and myself that the idea was preposterous.

But was it?

What would’ve happened at the opera if the show hadn’t started? And would those things have continued if Ambrose hadn’t arrived?

Had Leo been flirting with me a moment ago?

Men were so confusing.

“Don’t worry,” Leo was saying. “I set him straight. And when he hears you sing, he’ll understand.”

He didn’t say more, just concentrated on eating, but there were still too many unanswered questions rattling around in my

brain. And he couldn’t very well dodge the questions while trapped at lunch with me, could he? “Why did you go to where your

father used to work? The Pendelton mansion?”

Annoyance flashed over his expression, a muscle jumping in his jaw. “Curiosity.”

“About what?”

“Why does it matter?”

So prickly, which was entirely unlike Leo. Had I touched a nerve? “Question with a question once more. That’s two in one conversation.

Indeed, for a loquacious man, you are being exceedingly difficult over this.”

“It was nothing. I wanted...” He exhaled and rubbed his eyes. “I needed to see everything my father worked so hard to accomplish. Those gardens are his legacy.”

“And what did you discover?”

“Not as lush, but still beautiful. It made me feel, I don’t know, connected to him in a tiny way. Seeing everything he’d planted

still growing there, thriving? It’s proof that he didn’t fail, even though they let him go. I was proud of him again, and

I haven’t felt that way in a long time.”