𝘊𝘖𝘕 𝘖𝘍 𝘙𝘌𝘝𝘌𝘕𝘎𝘌 | ᴘʀᴇ ʀᴅʀ2

Chapter Fifteen

Rosalie sat on a plush, red loveseat in the corner of the study, her grandfather beside her. An expensive silver tray with a tea set rested on the coffee table before them. He poured her a cup of steaming tea with a careful hand, a gentle smile on his face as he gestured to the small pots of cream and sugar.

"Would you like anything added to your tea? I'll fix it for you." He offered, eager to do something for her.

Rosalie played with the ends of her hair. Her head felt naked without her hat. It was set on the table beside the tea tray and she resisted the urge to gaze at it longingly. "I'll have some sugar." She answered. "Thank you."

Her grandfather introduced himself as Charles Montgomery, known as Charlie by his close friends and family. He owned a large tobacco farm and had made a fortune selling cigars and pipe tobacco. The business had been in the Montgomery family since before the Louisiana Purchase and before the city was known as New Orleans, back when it was still French territory. The longstanding success of their tobacco business allowed the family to achieve and maintain an affluent status, holding wealth and influence since the founding of the United States.

Her grandfather seemed like a fine man, until he started speaking about the Spanish, as apparently their family had a nasty history with Spaniards trying to steal their property and burn their fields back in the day... why this mattered to him, Rosalie didn't understand, as that was in the 1700s, which was clearly a long, long time ago. But her grandfather hated the Spanish, that much was certain from the way his face screwed up when he told her that part of history. It was something she could overlook for now, at least.

The extent of their wealth was baffling to Rosalie. She had only known herself as the poor daughter of a con man father who would swindle all the money he could out of any fine gentleman who stepped within a foot of him. She never considered the possibility that she was related to the fine gentleman.

Rosalie sipped her tea, eyes drifting around the fancy room and its expensive decor. She wondered how much she could get for half the items in the room. Probably enough to set her up on a nice ranch in Oregon, where she would never have to think about money again. She was certain that even one of the oil paintings lining the walls would set her up for life.

But she wasn't going to steal from her grandfather. At least not yet, anyway. If he proved to be a horrible man... she wouldn't mind having sticky fingers.

"So, my mother," Began Rosalie, lowering her cup to her lap. "I never knew her, as you were already aware, due to her death in childbirth. But my daddy... he never mentioned anything about this. About the money... or... where she came from." She furrowed her brows. "Do you know why?" She asked.

Charlie sighed and nodded his head. "Yes, well, I may not know exactly what was going on in your father's head, but I can take a guess." He chuckled and shook his head, placing a hand on his knee. He paused as he chose his words carefully. "...Your father was not someone I approved of for my daughter. I realize now as an old man... that keeping Addie from him was a mistake, as that girl would have her way no matter what. Even if I told her no." He seemed to be amused at the thought, reminiscing about his daughter.

"...Did she run away?" Asked Rosalie gently. She leaned forward and set her teacup on the table, eyeing her grandfather, the cup rattling as it rested on the mahogany.

Charlie nodded, his eyes becoming sad, as though all his regrets were lined up in front of him on display. "That she did. Henry came to me and asked for her hand like a proper man. I told him no. Said that my daughter would marry no outlaw. No con man. She would be the wife of no swindler."

Charlie sighed and raised a hand to his cheek, pure regret etched into the lines of his face. "How I regret that now. Oh... how she cried and pleaded for me to change my mind. I refused and said I wanted a good life for her. One that Henry Klein could not give her." He let out another deep sigh. "She understood I was a stubborn fool who would not change his mind. So she left. Packed her things in the middle of the night, stole hundreds from me, and took off. I never heard from her again."