𝘊𝘖𝘕 𝘖𝘍 𝘙𝘌𝘝𝘌𝘕𝘎𝘌 | ᴘʀᴇ ʀᴅʀ2

Chapter Thirteen

Rosalie stared up at this woman, Eleanor Montgomery, who claimed to be her aunt. The situation was laughable. She couldn't believe it. It was true they shared similarities, as their thin faces, bouncy blonde hair, and large brown eyes were indistinguishable. It was like she was looking at another version of herself in a fine dress and lattice gloves. Eleanor appeared just as an affluent woman should, and Rosalie couldn't help but feel she was far, far from the society this woman was part of.

Did her mother belong to this family? Is that why Isabella had assumed she was part of these 'Montomgerys'? The situation was odd, and Rosalie had a hard time believing it. She was certain her father would have told her if her mother was from such a family.

Eleanor gestured to the chair at the other side of the table. "May I sit?"

Rosalie furrowed her brows as she gave the woman another once over.

There didn't seem to be anything harmful about her. If anything, Rosalie thought this woman was being too trusting of her. While Rosalie was no polished outlaw, she was more than capable of stealing from this woman. How was Eleanor to know Rosalie's intentions? Rosalie knew she didn't look like she was someone with a lot of money, with her worn black jeans, and sweat-stained black button-up. She looked out of place already in the coffee shop, but next to Eleanor 'Montomgery', Rosalie looked like trash outside a backwater saloon.

"Alright," Relented Rosalie.

Rosalie was confused about the whole situation. This random woman approached her due to the striking resemblance to her sister and seemed to be nothing but ecstatic to just speak to her. Did Eleanor have a screw loose in the head? There were plenty of blonde women in the world, and she was sure there wasn't a lack of them in New Orleans. Did Rosalie share that many noticeable similarities with her mother?

The woman slid into the chair without hesitation and held a white, satin clutch to her chest that glimmered in the sunlight through the window. Rosalie eyed the clutch, wondering how easy it would be for her to swipe it when the woman wasn't looking. It was bound to be valuable.

Eleanor glanced around the coffee shop as though she was looking for someone, ignorant of the plotting going on in Rosalie's head. "Is your father or uncle nearby? I-I don't necessarily want to see them at the moment... I hope you understand, but neither of them quite like me." She explained nervously.

Rosalie frowned and avoided meeting Eleanor's gaze as she reached for her espresso, wanting something to do with her hands. "You won't see him, so don't worry." She said bitterly.

"Oh, why not?" Eleanor focused her attention back on Rosalie.

Rosalie fidgeted. "Because he..." Her chest tightened, the words hard to get out. "He's dead." She finished with a frown.

There was a silence that settled over them. Rosalie refused to look up, but she could feel Eleanor's gaze as she let out a sad sigh.

"Oh... I... my dear, I am so sorry. I may not have liked the man or thought he was good for my sister, but I..." Eleanor lifted a lattice-gloved hand to her lips, struggling to find the right words. She eventually lowered her hand to her lap and gave Rosalie a sad look. "I can only imagine that Addie is thrilled to have him with her again. May they rest together. She was smitten with that man. They were sweet on each other from the moment they met."

Eleanor gasped and reached over to grab Rosalie's hand as though she had been shocked, her sadness dissipating instantly. Rosalie jolted at the sudden contact and switch of her mood.

"Where are you staying?" Eleanor asked, speaking a million miles a minute. "Oh, Daddy will be so pleased to meet you. We knew that Addie had a daughter and passed due to complications in the birth.., but after Henry mailed us that letter... oh, we had no idea what happened, whether you were dead, or worse, involved in that man's business." Eleanor clicked her tongue and looked off to the side at the thought of Henry's dealings.