Page 43 of The Gilded Heiress

Josie

Silence greeted me on the ground floor the next morning. I hadn’t slept well, tossing and turning, thinking about Leo’s betrayal,

but I couldn’t stay in bed once the sun emerged—an old habit from my days at the asylum. I expected to find a flurry of activity,

a bevy of staff bustling about while the Pendeltons breakfasted.

Instead, the rooms were empty. Quiet. Like the place was strangely frozen in time.

I didn’t know what to do. I considered pulling on the bell to ring for a footman, but that felt... presumptuous. Who was

I to ring for the staff? Maybe I should leave. The invitation had only been for one night, after all, and I didn’t wish to

impose. My plan was to say goodbye to Mrs. Pendelton and be on my way. I had a broken heart to mend and a life to build here

in New York, and there was no time to lose in feeling sorry for myself.

But it felt rude to leave without thanking her, so I supposed waiting a few more minutes wouldn’t hurt. I could always leave

a note, if it grew too late.

I wandered the massive rooms, admiring the paintings and decor. While the Pendeltons had suffered an unimaginable loss, they

also possessed more than most Americans. What was it like to be surrounded by so much wealth? To never worry about your next

meal or having a roof over your head?

I couldn’t fathom it.

As I passed a dim doorway, I glanced in and found a large piano. Curiosity piqued, I wandered inside and cracked the drapery for light—and discovered a music room, complete with wood paneling and a bevy of instruments. Holy Christmas ...

My heart gave a happy little skip, the first sign of life in my chest since Leo’s departure last night.

I sat on the small piano bench. For the hundredth time I wished I knew how to play. I could only sing, unfortunately. Not

that I’d done much of that recently.

There were a few songs I sang when I was sad, but one was my favorite: “I Dreamt I Dwelt in Marble Halls” from The Bohemian Girl . It spoke of a life that was never mine, a love I could never possess.

An emptiness I could never fill.

I let my finger slide over the keys until I found the right beginning note. The sound reverberated in the room and lingered.

Not bothering to warm up, I began singing, the haunting tune so familiar. My voice built in tenor and pitch as I went, growing

stronger and bouncing off the walls, until the end when I reached full volume.

When I stopped my cheeks were wet. I wiped them with my fingers—and someone started clapping behind me.

I spun around, dread clogging my throat as if I’d been caught stealing instead of singing.

An older man stood there.

He wasn’t very tall, but he had a commanding presence. Dressed sharply, neat beard. A gold watch chain attached to his silk

vest. And keen eyes that watched me carefully. Instantly, I knew this was Mr. Pendelton.

I stood. “Good morning, sir.”

“You must be Miss Smith.”

“Indeed, I am. You must be Mr. Pendelton. Thank you for allowing me to stay here last night.”

He took a few steps into the room and shoved his hands into his trouser pockets. “That was my wife’s doing, but you are welcome. She has really taken a shine to you.”

“I didn’t wish to impose, but she is hard to turn down.”

“Yes, well.” The edge of his mouth lifted slightly. “She gets what she wants, certainly. Especially from me. You have a lovely

voice. She said you were a singer, but I didn’t believe it until just now.”

“Oh, yes. I have an agent and everything.”

“Who is your agent, if I might be so bold as to ask?”

“Mr. Melvin Birdman.”

Mr. Pendelton looked impressed. “I know him. He’s one of the best, from what I hear.” He paused. “May I speak plainly, Miss

Smith?”

“Please.” I always preferred to know what people really thought, rather than needing to guess.

“I’m aware of how you came to be involved with my wife. If you think to extort money from us—”

“I don’t!” I said quickly. “I wouldn’t.”

“Nevertheless, I feel it needs to be said. I won’t have her hopes lifted once again, only to be dashed. Nor will I entertain

a reward check for a pair of confidence artists.”

“Understood. May I also speak plainly?”

“Of course.”

“I was not aware of what the two men were planning. If I had been, I certainly never would’ve agreed. I’ve broken ties with

them.” Misery oozed in my chest, like a festering wound that would take a very long time to heal.

“You knew these men to be hustlers.”

“Not exactly.”

“Elucidate.”

It was obvious why Mr. Pendelton was successful. He didn’t strike me as weak or indirect, nor did it seem as if he’d give

up without answers.

And there was no reason to hide the truth.

I folded my hands and looked him square in the eye. “I fancied myself in love with one of them, sir. He had a bit of a murky

past, but I believed he had my best interests at heart. I wasn’t aware he was using me to...” A lump formed in my throat,

making it hard to say the rest. I waved my hand dismissively as more tears threatened. “It’s not an inventive story, I’m afraid,

but it’s the truth.”

“Unfortunately, I have met many of these types over the years and I know how convincing they are. I’m sorry for you, miss.”

“I should’ve known better,” I said with a lift of one shoulder. “Someone arriving out of thin air to help me launch a singing

career? No one would do such a thing without an ulterior motive.”

“Come now, I’ve heard you sing. You were bound to get discovered sooner or later.” He paused, his gaze sweeping over my face

and hair. “In addition, I am able to see how your features resemble my wife’s.”

“That is kind of you to say, considering.”

“Considering that you were nearly part of a swindle to capitalize on the most painful experience a parent can endure?”

Indeed, I liked him. There was no pretending, no dancing around a subject. “Exactly.”

“The man you were in love with? My wife said he is the son of our former head gardener.”

“Yes, that’s true. Leo Hardy is Steven Hardy’s son. And before you suspect Steven of kidnapping your daughter, he didn’t.

In fact, bamboozling you out of the reward money was Leo’s idea of revenge for the way you let Steven go.”

“Our investigator was convinced Mr. Hardy was the co-conspirator. When the police claimed there wasn’t enough evidence against

Mr. Hardy to prosecute, we terminated his employment. But that doesn’t mean he wasn’t responsible. It only means we couldn’t

prove it.”

“I can say with full confidence that pursuing Steven Hardy as an accomplice or the person responsible for the kidnapping is a waste of time.”

“How are you so certain?”

I didn’t think I was wrong about this. Leo may have lied to me about everything else, but I was with him when he learned of

his father’s tainted reputation. I saw the devastation, the utter despair. He was capable of love—for his father, his mother

and sisters. Not for me, but the affection for his family had been very real. “Because Leo loved his father. I could hear

it in every story he told me and when he showed me around the grounds his father planted. He was proud of Mr. Hardy, and what

happened after they left here nearly destroyed them all.”

He blinked several times. “He showed you around the gardens?”

“Yes, sir. Leo brought me a few days ago.” I didn’t mention hiding in the sleigh. I never wished to recall that experience,

now tarnished with Leo’s lies. “I’ve also read one of the love letters that the baby nurse supposedly wrote to Leo’s father.”

“How?”

“Leo went to see the detective who was once the investigator on your case.”

“Detective Porter?”

“Yes, sir. That was the name. There are things in that letter that point to someone other than Steven Hardy.”

“This is all quite... unbelievable. I don’t know whether to pepper you for answers or throw you out.”

“I hope neither, sir. I’d like the chance to give your wife my thanks first.”

He stared at his toes and sighed. “I remember the lad. Leopold. He followed Steven around everywhere the gardener went. You

said the father has died?”

“He drank himself to death after leaving New York and settling the family in Boston.”

Mr. Pendelton shoved his hands into his trouser pockets. “I am sorry to hear that, truly. He wouldn’t admit to anything at the time and we had no choice but to let him go.”

I wanted to quibble with saying there had been no choice, but it was pointless to try to rewrite the past. “You can still

make it right, sir. You can let the world know that Mr. Hardy had nothing to do with the kidnapping.”

“I’ll consider it.” He peered at me curiously. “You are quite bold for such a young lady.”

“I grew up in a girls’ asylum in Boston.” I shrugged my shoulders. “The nuns tried to mold me into a proper lady, but I never

learned how to hide my thoughts and feelings very well. Which likely explains why I was never adopted.”

“My wife said they told you that you were evil, touched by the devil.”

I lifted my shoulders in an attempt at a casual shrug. “Another reason why I was never adopted, I suppose. No one wants a

demonic child.”

“You hardly seem demonic to me.”

I bit my lip in an attempt to smother a smile. “Well, you haven’t seen me hungry. I can get fairly demonic then.”

Mr. Pendelton laughed, the dark clouds clearing from his eyes. “Have you had breakfast yet?” When I shook my head, he gestured

toward the hall. “Then we should see about getting you fed before you sprout horns and a tail.”

I felt foolish. There was no reason to linger. I’d intruded enough on their lives, said my piece about Steven Hardy. I needed

to sort out my own life, now that I’d tried to sort out Leo’s. “I should be on my way. If you’ll pass on my gratitude to your

wife, I would appreciate it.”

He tilted his head and regarded me carefully. “Where will you be going, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“To see my agent, Mr. Birdman. He’ll help me find somewhere to stay.”

His eyebrows lowered as he frowned. “Forgive me for asking, but do you have the funds for a hotel?”