Page 37 of The Gilded Heiress

I read the words quickly, never believing for a second that they’d been directed at my father. Who had been the true recipient?

I would need to study one of these letters carefully, out from under Porter’s watchful eye.

Distraction. Dip. Departure.

The pickpocket’s mantra.

“Oh, look here.” I leaned across the desk with one of the papers in my hand. I set it on the desk and pointed. “See, this

sentence. What does this mean?”

Porter leaned forward to read it—and that split second was all I needed to fold one of the letters in my other hand and tuck

it into my pocket.

The detective quoted, “‘You are my golden light, my reason for existing.’” He glanced up at me. “Seems pretty straightforward

to me.”

“Golden light?” I stroked my chin. “Does she mean someone with blond hair? What color hair did Hardy have?” I knew the answer—dark,

like mine.

“That’s a metaphor. Something one lover says to another.”

Possibly, but possibly not. “And you don’t have the letters Hardy wrote back?”

“No, those were never found. The nurse probably took ’em with her when she left.”

I handed over the remaining letters and sat back. “What did Hardy say when you questioned him?”

“Denied it, of course. We leaned on him fairly rough, but he stuck to his story. Wasn’t having an affair and wasn’t involved

in the kidnapping plot.”

“Does the nurse mention the kidnapping in the letters?” I gestured to the file on his desk.

“Not directly, but she would’ve known better than to write it down.”

“So, other than the alleged affair, you don’t possess evidence that points to either of them?”

Porter appeared genuinely annoyed at my question.

“Baby nurse and gardener are having an affair. Neither have much in the matter of funds, so they hatch the kidnapping plot as a way to start over somewhere new, together. Baby nurse has access to the little girl. The ladder used in the kidnapping belongs to the estate and is stored in the gardener’s equipment shed.

Baby nurse disappears, and the gardener sticks around to steer the investigation away from them. ”

“But they didn’t end up together. The gardener moved to Boston and died.”

“Only because the kidnapping went sour. They never had a chance to demand a ransom for the little girl.”

This theory was a stretch, based on very little evidence. And the evidence Porter had—the love letters—only involved one of

his suspects. “It sounds like you’ve given this a lot of thought. I’m surprised you couldn’t arrest Hardy.”

Porter shifted in his chair and straightened the papers on his desk. “The detectives at the time said there wasn’t enough

evidence to convict him. So I went to Tammany and got myself appointed to the department. Then I took over the case when the

others gave up.”

“Smart of you.” I slapped my thighs and rose out of the chair. “Indeed, thank you, Detective, for indulging me. I’ve taken

up enough of your time.”

We shook hands. Porter walked with me to the door. “Incidentally, who did you say you knew who worked on the estate?”

“The old groom. Freddie.”

“Ah, I remember him. Good man. He was very helpful every time I came by.”

“Yes, he does like to chat,” I said with a chuckle. “Quite the old storyteller, from what I recall.”

We walked into the corridor. I put my hat on and gave him a nod. “I’ll see myself out. Thank you again, Detective. If you’re

ever in Boston, stop by Station House No. 3.”

“I will. Take care.”

“Take care.”

I walked out, choking on bitterness and resentment. And I swore right there, as I exited for Mulberry Street, that I would find the answers myself.

I would clear my father’s name all on my own.

Josie

Late-morning light filled the bedroom by the time I woke up, my exhausted muscles heavy and sore. Leo and I had stayed up

much too late, a blur of sensation and sweat. I couldn’t remember the number of orgasms he’d given me—I lost count after five—but

it was a night I’d never forget.

I dressed slowly, wondering what Leo was doing while I slept the day away. Except when I finally emerged from the bedroom

it wasn’t Leo I found.

Ambrose was at the kitchen table. He was reading the newspaper, sipping from a teacup. There was no one else around.

“Good morning,” I said as I went to the stove. Was there any coffee left? “I wasn’t expecting to see you.”

“Good morning, Miss Smith. I beg your pardon for the intrusion. I needed to collect some clean clothing.”

After I started heating water, I took a seat at the table. Ambrose folded the newsprint, angled in his chair, and crossed

his legs. “You and Leo are having fun, I gather.”

I tried to keep a blank expression, though it wasn’t easy. “I suppose so, yes.”

“You have a discoloration on your neck.” He peered closer. “And it looks to be about mouth-size.”

Leo had left a mark? My hand flew up to cover my neck, but Ambrose merely laughed. “Now, don’t get all shy with me. It’s the

reason I left the two of you alone, after all.”

“Don’t be crass, Ambrose.” I ignored the heat crawling up my face. “Where’s Leo?”

“Left a few hours ago.”

“Did he say where he was going?”

“I didn’t see him, so I couldn’t say. But he left you a note.” Ambrose slid a folded piece of paper toward me.

Chest fluttering with anticipation, I opened Leo’s note.

Sweetheart,

Went to run an errand. Will return this afternoon. Be ready.

Yours, Leo

I stared down at the words, tracing the loops and swirls of his handwriting while searching for insight. I imagined him sitting

down to write it, his hair falling onto his brow as the pen traveled across the paper.

Yours.

One little word, yet it held so much meaning. A lump formed in my throat, a ball of yearning for a dream I’d all but given

up on. My whole life I’d only wished for one thing: to belong. To a family, to the nuns. To anyone. All I ever wanted was

to be someone worthy of loving.

Maybe Leo and I weren’t so temporary, after all.

I refolded the paper, hope bubbling in my chest. A dangerous emotion, hope. I’d avoided it for years, especially when it pertained

to other people. In my experience people only let you down if you relied on them.

Yet Leo had somehow worked his way under my skin. And right now I was anxious to see him, touch him. My skin nearly crawled

with it, an ache settling low in my belly at the thought of being with him again.

“I can see you are equally smitten.”

I shook myself out of my thoughts and returned my attention to Ambrose. “Pardon?”

“You, smitten over Leo. Just as he is smitten over you.”

More heat spread under my cheeks. “You think Leo is smitten with me?”

“My dear woman, he is positively over the moon for you.”

I bit my lip, wondering about this. If Leo was smitten, why was he talking about what he’d do when he returned to Boston?

Shouldn’t he plan to stay with me in New York? “Why would you say so?”

“Because I know him. I see the way he looks at you. Not to mention he told you about the Pendelton estate, about his father.

That isn’t information he shares with just anyone.”

There went my hopes even higher. “You know all about it too?”

“Yes, but Leo and I go way back.”

“How far back?”

“Ages. Your water is boiling, by the way, and yes, I would love a cup.”

I wasn’t about to ignore his evasive answer, but I needed to deal with the water for my tea. Once I had two cups ready, I

brought them over to the table. “There. Now, tell me how you know Leo.”

“It’s not an exciting story, I’m afraid. Two young fatherless youths on the streets of Boston. We were both lads, not more

than twelve and thirteen. Got into trouble now and then. Those were good times.”

I stirred sugar into my tea. “I can only imagine. A terrible thing, what the Pendeltons did to his father.”

“Indeed. Leo’s always had his mind fixated on revenge against that family.”

He had? I quirked an eyebrow in Ambrose’s direction. “Revenge? How?”

“Oh, I couldn’t say, miss. We used to dream up all kinds of wild schemes as boys. Makes it easier that they never did find

out what happened to the missing daughter.”

“What do you mean, it makes it easier?”

He sipped his tea, then wiped his mustache delicately. “The schemes. We imagined all number of things, from finding the Pendelton

heiress and marrying her, to writing a fake ransom note and running away with the money. Or even convincing a young woman

to pose as the heiress and split the reward money with her.”

My jaw dropped open as I stared at him in horror. “Those are terrible, awful ideas. I know they mistreated Mr. Hardy, but

they suffered a great loss, a misery no parent should be forced to endure. To pile on more is just cruel, Ambrose.”

He held up his palms, instantly contrite. “Oh, I realize that now. I would never perpetrate such a thing. I’m merely recalling

the ramblings of two young boys with hardly any cash to speak of.”

“Shame on both of you for even considering it, though I can understand Leo’s side, I suppose. His father’s life was destroyed

when he was let go.”

“Yes, it certainly was. Have you seen where the Hardys live in Boston?”

“No. Why?”

He shook his head sadly. “Quite a small space for seven people. Leo doesn’t have an easy time keeping them afloat.”

Was Ambrose trying to say I shouldn’t have brought Leo to New York? “Well, I certainly hope our trip here will change all

that.”

“No doubt our dear Leo hopes the same.”

We sipped our tea in silence for a few minutes. I got the sense Ambrose was observing me for some reason, though I couldn’t

say why. Was he worried I was somehow taking advantage of Leo? Or was he trying to see if I was serious about his friend?

Was he waiting for me to confess all my dirty secrets?

I nearly snorted. He’d be waiting a long time, then. Sleeping with Leo was the dirtiest secret I had, and Ambrose already

knew about it.

When the silence stretched, I couldn’t take it anymore. “Were you waiting for me to say something?”

“No, why?”