Page 39 of The Gilded Heiress

Josie

Maillard’s confectionary shop, located in a hotel, was a feast for the eyes, with bright colors and glass cases full of candy.

Looking around, I took in the patrons enjoying tea and sandwiches. The women here were well dressed, with expensive hats and

finely made dresses. I tried not to feel frumpy in comparison.

“Ah, there you are.”

Turning at the familiar male drawl, I saw Ambrose approaching. That was odd. Why was he here? Only yesterday Leo had confessed

his background to me, and knowing the truth made me wary regarding Ambrose.

Especially when I wasn’t expecting to see him. Earlier, Leo sent me a cable to meet him here this afternoon after his suit

fitting, per Melvin. I hadn’t realized Ambrose would be joining us as well. “Mr. Lee. This is a surprise.”

“Miss Smith.” He bowed over my hand. “How lovely you look today.”

“I don’t understand. Where’s Leo?”

“He’ll be along, don’t worry. In the meantime, I have someone I’d like for you to meet.”

I didn’t care for this, not one bit. Was he taking me to meet one of his friends? Considering his and Leo’s background, it

could mean almost anything. “I’d rather wait for Leo, if you don’t mind,” I said, digging in my heels when Ambrose took my

arm.

“He’ll be along. We might as well sit and be comfortable while we wait.”

That was sensible, I supposed. Besides, the confectionary shop was crowded and I didn’t wish to be in the way. Sitting for

a few minutes wouldn’t kill me.

I let him guide me deeper into the room, toward the back. Except he stopped at an occupied table, one with an older woman

enjoying her luncheon alone. A green silk afternoon gown, slightly faded, adorned her frame, but she was still elegant in

the overhead light. She hardly seemed the type of woman with whom Ambrose would socialize.

Ambrose bowed slightly. “Madam, good afternoon.”

The older woman looked up at us—and a jolt of recognition hit me. I knew her. We’d met in the retiring room at the Metropolitan

Opera House the other night.

I smiled. “Oh, hello. It’s nice to see you again.”

She angled toward me and blinked several times. “I... I don’t understand. It’s you?”

That was an odd greeting. “It’s me,” I said with a shrug. “Strange, I know. I never expected to see you again either.”

Ambrose’s voice climbed in surprise. “Wait, the two of you have met?”

“Is this some sort of a jest?” the older woman said sharply, her voice dripping with disapproval.

“Not at all, madam.” Ambrose sounded cool and confident once more. “May I present Miss Smith? Miss Smith, this is Mrs. William

Pendelton.”

Pendelton. Oh, goodness. This was Mrs. Pendelton, Mr. Hardy’s former employer and the woman who lost her child all those years ago? But why were we intruding

upon her luncheon?

Mrs. Pendelton placed her serviette on the table. “It’s clear you are both wasting my time.”

“I don’t understand,” I said, looking to Ambrose. “Why are you bothering her?”

“Now, wait a moment,” Ambrose said, putting up his palms as if to calm us down. “Let’s sit and have a reasonable chat together.”

“There is little to discuss, young man.” Though she was seated, Mrs. Pendelton looked down her nose at Ambrose. “You expect

me to believe it’s her?”

“It’s her.” Ambrose’s smile was a shade too slick for my liking. “I have verified it myself.”

What on earth was happening here?

Before I could ask, Mrs. Pendelton narrowed angry eyes on me. “Is this because of our interaction at the opera? Do you believe

me so desperate, so mired in grief as to be ripe for a charlatan?” She let out a bitter chuckle. “People have been lying to

me for almost eighteen years. Do you honestly think to succeed when the rest have all failed?”

The back of my neck turned hot under her accusatory stare. “I haven’t any idea what this is about. I’m here to meet a friend

of mine.”

“As if I’d believe that.”

I didn’t care for any of this. Mrs. Pendelton didn’t want us near her, and I had no idea what Ambrose was attempting to do.

I started to walk away, but Ambrose put a hand on my arm to stop me. “Release me,” I snapped.

Ignoring me, he addressed Mrs. Pendelton. “Madam, are you saying that you cannot see it for yourself? The hair, the eyes...

She looks exactly like you.”

“What is going on here?”

The familiar deep voice cut across the room. Leo was storming toward our table, his long stride eating up the distance easily.

My shoulders instantly relaxed. Thank goodness. He would set Ambrose straight.

“Leo,” Ambrose said. “You’ve arrived! Perfect timing.”

Perfect timing?

Before I could ponder what might be happening, Leo stepped closer to Ambrose, his mouth flat and angry. “Let go of her im mediately.” Ambrose released me and held up his hands, which prompted Leo to demand quietly, “Explain yourself. What is this about?”

“Who are you, young man?” Mrs. Pendelton said sharply. “Why are you here?”

“I’m with her.” Leo gestured to me. “I’m her manager.”

“Manager of what, exactly?” Mrs. Pendelton gave me a look that could wither a freshly bloomed flower.

But I was made of stronger stuff than that. I didn’t wither. Instead, I straightened my shoulders and answered with all the

confidence I could muster. “I’m a singer, ma’am. Miss Joséphine Smith from Paris. Perhaps you’ve read of me in the newspapers?”

Mrs. Pendelton froze, her body going very still. “What name did you say?”

“Miss Joséphine Smith. I’m quite famous.”

“Is that your real name?”

Why would she ask me such a thing? “As far as the newspapers are concerned, yes.”

“How old are you, girl?” the older woman asked.

It was always a difficult question to answer, and this time was no different. Through the tightness in my throat, I said,

“It’s hard to say exactly, but I think I’m almost twenty.”

“And why is it hard to say exactly?”

Frustrated, I glanced at Leo. His face was pale, his expression worried. I said, “Leo, I’d like to leave.”

“Of course,” Leo said and started forward.

But Ambrose put his arm out, preventing Leo from reaching me. “Now, now. Let’s not be too hasty. I think we are finally getting

to the truth of it.”

“Both of you boys, get out.” Mrs. Pendelton waved her hand at the two men. “I wish to speak to Miss Smith alone.”

“I beg your pardon,” Leo said. “But I won’t leave without her.”

“Then you may wait outside. But I’ll not have you two interfering any longer.”

Those words. They reminded me of the conversation between Ambrose and Leo after the opera.

We’ve never interfered before.

You’ve never brought in a woman before.

This all felt planned. Contrived. Clearly, Leo and Ambrose were up to something. And it involved me and Mrs. Pendelton.

But Leo wouldn’t involve me in one of his confidence schemes. He’d given all that up. Hadn’t he?

My head spun with doubts and recollections. I needed a moment to think. I knew the answer was in the conversations stored

in my brain.

Before I could do that, however, I needed to apologize to Mrs. Pendelton. “Please, wait outside,” I told Leo. “Give me a moment.”

“Josie, I think you should come with me. Now.” Leo moved closer, his blue eyes switching between pleading with me and glaring

at Ambrose. He almost seemed nervous. Was he worried about leaving me alone?

“I’ll be fine,” I reassured him. “And I won’t be long.”

“You heard the lady,” Ambrose said, putting a hand on Leo’s arm. “Let’s wait outside, Leo.”

Still, he hesitated.

Mrs. Pendelton sighed heavily. “Go, both of you. Or I’ll ask the manager to show you out.”

I didn’t want trouble, so I motioned for Leo to go. Apologizing to Mrs. Pendelton wouldn’t take long, and it was something

I had to do for my own peace of mind. Just wait outside , I mouthed to him.

Leo started to speak, then stopped. Nodding once, he turned on his heel and strode toward the door. Ambrose, looking strangely

pleased, gave us an elaborate bow as he backed away, then slipped his derby onto his head. He trailed Leo to the exit.

Clasping my hands together, I met the older woman’s stare directly. “I beg your pardon, madam. We have clearly wasted your time. I’ll leave you to your day and we may forget this ever happened.”

“Sit down.” She pointed to the empty seat across from her. “I wish to speak with you.”

Mrs. Pendelton’s words were commanding, laced with the attitude of someone used to being obeyed. She reminded me of the nuns

at the asylum. I didn’t dare disagree.

I sat.

Leo

A haze of panic and anger clouded my vision as I stepped outside. This was a goddamn disaster—and one person was to blame.

“You son of a bitch!” I shoved Ambrose’s chest when he arrived outside on the walk. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Unrepentant, Ambrose put his palms up. His smile was slick and satisfied, and I wanted to punch him. Badly. “Now, Leo. Have

you forgotten rule number five?”

Fifth rule of being a confidence man: always look out for yourself.

“Fuck the rules,” I snapped—and a woman walking by gasped at my language. Scowling, I grabbed Ambrose’s arm and led him away

from the pedestrians. When we reached an alcove near the corner of the hotel, I pushed him against the brick wall and Ambrose’s

derby fell to the ground. I snarled, “You had no right to use Josie like that.”

Ambrose bent to collect his hat from the ground, then brushed the brim with the sleeve of his coat. “Now, Leo. There’s no

reason to hate me because I pulled this off before you had the chance.”

“I changed my—”

“Aha! I knew it.” He pointed at me. “You were planning to get Josie in front of Mrs. Pendelton and convince the old woman that Josie was her daughter, then skip with the reward money.”

Another outraged gasp sounded behind my shoulder. I turned, ready to tell the busybody to get lost—except I found Josie.

Oh, shit.

I froze. Her eyes were wide with hurt, her face slack as she gaped at me. She’d clearly overheard our conversation, and my

stomach dropped to the ground.

Say something.