Page 30 of The Gilded Heiress

The emotion in his voice, sad and wistful, wound around my heart and squeezed. This was the real man underneath the fancy suit and slick words. The one who felt deeply and carried the responsibility for his family, the one who still hurt from losing his father.

I understood.

I longed for a similar connection to my lost family, a place where I belonged. A sense of roots . The asylum had been a building in which to live, but it wasn’t a home. I didn’t care if I ever went back there.

But Leo had this marvelous memorial of his father, tangible evidence of the care and love his father had provided to the world.

He must’ve been a wonderful, remarkable man.

“Does that make any sense?” Leo asked, looking up from his plate.

“Perfect sense.” He didn’t say anything more, but the haunted expression remained. It tore me up inside, so I blurted, “Will

you take me there?”

Startled, he rocked back in his chair slightly. “Where?”

“To see the gardens.”

“Why?”

Because I want to learn about you. Because I want to see more of the real you.

I couldn’t tell him as much, so I lifted a shoulder. “Why not? It’ll be fun.”

“It’s just a bunch of flowers and plants, Josie.”

“No, it’s not. As you said, it’s your father’s legacy. Show me what he worked so hard to create, what he lost when he was

let go.”

I could tell Leo didn’t care for the idea. A war raged behind that bright gaze, now gray with his thoughts. He studied my

face as if searching for a weakness, an opening upon which to refuse my request. “They might not let us in,” he tried. “And

it’s a long way uptown.”

“We have the time and we have Melvin’s carriage for the day. It’s the perfect opportunity for such an excursion. If they don’t let us in, who cares?”

“Josie...”

He sighed heavily and I could feel him wavering. “ Please , Leo.” I put as much feeling as I could muster behind those two words.

His mouth curved, as if I’d pleased him, while his hooded blue gaze burned across the table from me. The moment stretched

and I felt both heavy and light at the same time. Cold and sweaty. Dizzy, but unable to move.

Abruptly, he pushed his plate away and signaled for the waiter. “Let’s go.”

Leo

I stared at the Pendelton mansion, a silent Josie by my side. I tried to see it as she did in the dying afternoon light, with

the peeling paint, chips, and stains. The once grand structure, though still imposing, had fallen into disrepair.

According to Georgie, the Pendeltons had trouble keeping good help around. Looking at the mansion, I wasn’t surprised. The

family’s knack for destruction was unsurprising to me. My chest ached with what might’ve been, the future of which our family

had been robbed.

Josie sighed and folded her hands. “I bet it was beautiful once, back in the day.”

“Yeah, it was.”

“Come on. Let’s go around back.”

Grabbing my elbow, she towed me across the street. When we reached the other side, I led her to the garden entrance. I slid

open the latch and held the gate for Josie to pass through, then followed her inside.

“It’s nice,” she said, looking around.

“They’ve pared it down quite a bit over the years. When my father was here, the place was overflowing with greenery and blooms. Here, let’s walk.” I took her arm again and we stepped onto the path.

“Did your father plant all these trees and bushes?”

“A lot of them, yes. The original landscape designer outlined the entire space, then my father was hired. He was here a few

years before becoming head gardener. After he took over, he worked closely with Mrs. Pendelton and Mr. Olmstead to enhance

the gardens. But this is a fraction of what the space used to look like.”

Lifting her skirts, Josie stepped over a fallen branch. “You spent a lot of time here.”

“I did. I loved coming to work with him. My favorite part was the fish pond. It’s gone now.”

We continued around the path, and I pointed out all the things I remembered. I told stories about my childhood, about the

games I invented and the adventures I undertook.

“It sounds lovely,” she finally said. “And you spent a lot of time around your father. Most children aren’t so fortunate.

It’s an extraordinary gift you were given.”

I supposed that was true. I never thought of it in such a way, but then of course Josie would, seeing as how she’d never had

a family of her own.

I guided her to the left. “Come this way. I want to show you something.”

She didn’t argue but asked, “What is it?”

“Hush, it’s a surprise.”

We wound along the path, past boxwoods and small trees, toward the rear of the property. Then, through a clearing, it came

into view.

This had been my favorite spot as a child. Something told me Josie would love it just as much.

Josie sucked in a sharp breath. “Sakes alive, it’s a tiny replica of the main house.”

“It’s the carriage house,” I said as we approached the two-story Gothic building. “A replica of the main house down to the tiniest detail. The stables are directly behind it.”

Like the main building it was modeled after, the carriage house was in disrepair, dirty and surrounded by weeds. Cracked stone

and peeling paint. It felt forgotten back here, uncared for and unloved. For some reason this saddened me more than anything

else.

“It is adorable, like a doll’s house,” Josie said as we stopped to take it in. “I bet it was your favorite place as a boy.”

A small smile broke free. “Indeed, it was. I hid on the second floor and watched the grooms and horses for hours.”

“Let’s go in.”

“We can’t. The grooms will—”

Josie started toward the carriage house, not bothering to wait for me. It took me a second to recover before I hurried after

her. “Hey, wait up!”

She didn’t slow in the slightest, her shoulders back like she had the right to be here. Like she owned the place.

Except I preferred not to encounter anyone, if at all possible. They would ask questions that I didn’t care to answer, especially

in front of her. “Josie!”

Damn, it was too late. She was already inside.

I darted through the door, hoping to find the carriage house empty.

It wasn’t. Three men sat around a stump, playing cards. One of them was Georgie, the head gardener, and they all gaped at

Josie.

“Afternoon, miss,” one of the men said, standing. “May we help you?”

“Afternoon, sirs,” she said. “We’re looking around at your magnificent gardens. Is one of you responsible?”

“I’m the head gardener, miss,” Georgie said as he rose. His gaze shifted to me as I stepped closer. “Oh, it’s you again. Youngblood,

wasn’t it?”

“Good memory.” I tipped my hat. “Yes, sir, that’s me.”

Josie’s face registered her confusion, but she didn’t contradict my lie.

The oldest man frowned at us. “You folks can’t wander about here. This is private property.” He was older, probably in his

early sixties, with graying sand-colored hair. Was he a groom?

“It’s all right,” Georgie said to the other men. “His father used to work here.”

“I don’t remember no Youngblood,” the older groom said. “And I’ve been here nearly twenty-five years.”

Before I could stop her, Josie blurted, “What about a Hardy?”

I held my breath. Maybe he wouldn’t remember.

He stilled, then his gaze swung to me. Recognition dawned in his expression and my stomach dropped. “You’re Steven’s boy?”

he asked.

Shit. I hadn’t wanted anyone here to know my real name or my connection to the place.

With no choice but to admit it, I nodded once.

“Well, now.” The man looked me over. “Leopold, wasn’t it?”

I couldn’t recall this man specifically—there’d been countless workers on the estate in those days—but I must’ve met him at

some point. “Yes, sir. Good memory.”

“I thought you said your name was Robbie,” Georgie said, eyebrows pinched in confusion as all three men retook their seats.

“Robbie is my middle name,” I answered smoothly. “Robbie Youngblood is what I use in my professional life.”

“Ah.” The confusion left Georgie’s face. “He’s a manager on Broadway,” the gardener explained to the other men.

The old groom’s eyebrows rose at this news. “You trailed after your father everywhere in those days, a little wee sprite running

about. I’m Freddie, though you probably don’t remember me. How’s your father these days?”

“He’s dead.” My voice was flat, unemotional.

“Sorry to hear that, son.”

A lump lodged in my throat, bad memories sitting in my stomach like spoiled milk. I looked at Josie. “Ready to go?”

“No, not yet,” she said absently, then asked the groom, “Are you the only staff member from that time still working here?”

“Yes, miss, I am. The others were all let go either directly after the episode or within a few years.”

“The episode?”

“The missing little girl. You know, the kidnapped heiress.” He scratched his jaw. “I thought the whole world knew about that.”

“Why the difference in time,” Josie asked, “in letting the staff go?”

“Josie,” I said quietly, not wanting to dredge up the past. It was bad enough standing here.

“No, wait, Leo. I’m curious. Why let some of the staff stay, only to sack them later?”

The groom tilted his head toward the mansion. “After a while the police weren’t making progress, so the family hired a Pinkerton.

The investigator uncovered new details and Hardy was sacked as a result a couple years after the kidnapping.”

That got my attention. I frowned at the older man. “What new details?”

“I couldn’t say. Your father wouldn’t tell us nothing, other than it weren’t true.”

Wasn’t true? New information? I hadn’t heard about this.

Josie flicked a glance at me, then returned her attention to Freddie. “But you never heard what he discovered?”

“Well, now.” He shifted on his feet. “There were rumors, but they’re not exactly fit for a lady’s ears.”

I blinked several times, sure I misheard. “What does this mean? What are you implying?”

“You can say it in front of me,” Josie encouraged. “I’m no Fifth Avenue princess. I’ve heard it all. So, what were the rumors?”

Freddie shook his head. “I’m the epitome of a God-fearing man,” he said, though he mispronounced epitome , rhyming it with “home.” “And I don’t like to speak ill of the dead. That poor little girl was never found, and there’s no use trying to blame anyone for it now.”

Disbelief and anger poured through me, so much so that my muscles began shaking. Had the Pinkerton insinuated my father was

involved in the kidnapping? It was patently absurd. I knew my father. He’d loved working here, had taken pride in every square inch, and the man hadn’t a nefarious or cruel bone in

his body. As a boy, I took an apple off a cart without paying and when my father learned of it, he marched me back there the

next day and forced me to apologize to the owner, as well as pay for the apple from my own savings.

Under no circumstances would he participate in a kidnapping scheme for anyone, let alone a baby.

I swallowed the fury gripping my tongue. “My father would never have involved himself in something as terrible as kidnapping

a little girl.”

“Now, I’m not claiming he did.” The groom put out his palms toward me. “I’m merely repeating what happened at the time.”

“And this was why Steven Hardy was let go?” Josie asked.

“Yes, miss.”

“Why weren’t you fired?”

Freddie scratched the back of his neck at her question. “I don’t rightly know. I kept my head down, I suppose. Did my work

and never bothered no one.”

I was hardly paying attention. The edges of the room wavered. I couldn’t speak. Couldn’t think. That anyone would even suspect

my father was absolutely infuriating. What was this new evidence that revealed itself two years after the kidnapping?

Josie touched my arm. “Leo—”

The sound of hooves and carriage wheels thundered nearby, drawing closer. The men in the carriage house began scrambling to

clean up the evidence of their card game.

The younger groom waved us toward the back. “You two can’t be here when the mister comes in. Hide in one of those side rooms until he goes inside.”

The mister? Did he mean Mr. Pendelton? Good. I had a thing or two to say to that man. How dare the Pendeltons think my father

capable of such a heinous act? I straightened my cuffs, preparing for battle.

Josie grabbed my hand and tugged, but I didn’t move. She tugged harder. “Come on, Leo. Let’s get out of sight.”

“No.” I ground my back teeth together, frustration clawing at the nape of my neck. “I want to speak to him.”

“Are you cracked? You can’t do that. He’ll have you arrested for trespassing.”

I didn’t care. I needed to set the record straight and clear my father’s name.

“Go, go!” The grooms were waving for us to hide, while the sounds of a carriage thundered along the mews.

“Leo, look at me,” Josie whispered. Then she was in front of me, her beautiful face all I could see. Her palm cupped my jaw

and she stared into my eyes. “This is not the time. I promise, we’ll fix this. But we can’t do it now. You’ll get these men

in trouble. And we might get arrested.”

Part of me wanted to stay and fight, but I supposed this made sense. I wasn’t in the frame of mind to have a rational conversation

with Mr. Pendelton. But I would soon.

Eighth rule of being a confidence man: keep a cool head at all times .

Numbly, I nodded and followed Josie to a side room. I heard her close the door behind us, but it was too dark to see anything

inside. As soon as my eyes adjusted, I discovered a large sleigh, dusty and forgotten. I remembered this room from my time

here as a boy. I would sit in the seat and pretend I was an explorer at the South Pole, driving the sleigh over frozen tundra.

Christ, I hadn’t thought about that in years.

A small hand grabbed mine. “Climb in. We’ll wait together until the coast is clear.”