“Perhaps that was the name she was given, but we all knew her and loved her as Josie.” Lily rested a gentle hand on her shoulder.
Sheridan was uncomfortable beneath the light touch but tried hard not to let it show.
“You didn’t know your mother at all, did you?”
Sheridan looked up at Lily through the veil of her lashes and slowly shook her head. “No. Up until I received the letters from Mr. Applebaum and Lucy Hart, I thought she had passed when I was born. That’s what I was told. Aunt Estelle talked about her, but it was never kind. She said my mother was a fallen woman and that she died giving birth to me to pay for her sins.”
“Then you were not told the truth. Let me tell you about her.” Lily poured more tea into her own cup and sat beside her. “Josie DuBois was the best woman I’ve ever known. Warm and kind, she never looked down on anyone because of their circumstances.” She gestured to the other ladies gathered in the parlor, all dressed in fashions from last year, their faces clean of powder, rouge, and kohl.
If she didn’t know better, she’d assume they were just friends enjoying each other’s company after church.
“She took us in when no one else wanted us. Gave us food and shelter, love and understanding. And protection. She made sure we were healthy. I never in my life saw a doctor before Josie took me in. My own husband, the man who was supposed to loveme and care for me, never treated me as well as Josie did.” Lily’s gaze remained straight-forward. She never even blinked. “She never raised a hand to me as he did. When he passed and left me with nothing, Josie took me in, no questions asked.”
“My father kicked me out of his house when he learned I had given myself to our neighbor,” Barrie said softly as a small smile tilted the corner of her mouth. “He wasn’t the only one. I enjoyed sex, which neither one of my folks could understand. They were from the ‘procreation only’ school of thought. What a horrible way to live.” She laughed, a light joyous sound that made others want to join in. “Anyway, Josie helped me after they banned me from their home. She taught me to read and write and do arithmetic, which my folks never deemed necessary for me to know. She gave me more than I can ever repay.”
Sheridan put down the teacup and saucer, though the tea was perfect, but she was afraid she’d drop or break both, her grip was so tight. What Lily and Barrie said about Josephine did not sound like the woman Aunt Estelle and her grandmother constantly derided. Not at all.
She looked at Susannah with her cupids’ bow mouth and soft, gentle blue eyes. “Did my mother take you in as well?”
Susannah nodded, her bright-red ringlets bouncing. “She did.” She smiled, revealing a dimple in her cheek. “And I loved her for it. I ran away with the first boy who said he loved me. He promised me we’d get married, but he straight-up lied. I found myself in a very bad place.” Sadness crept into her eyes, and she didn’t seem able to continue. After a moment, she took a deep breath then said, “Josie DuBois saved me. She treated me better than anyone ever had, and I’m grateful to her every day. I miss her.”
“She took me in, too, but you already know my story,” Mrs. Gallagher said as she chose a morsel from the platter of petit fours.
“She helped a lot of women. Too many to name over the years.” Lily passed Sheridan the plate with the sandwiches, which she refused. “She helped a lot of men, too.”
Sheridan’s body flushed. She could feel the heat rising to her face. Even her ears burned.
Lily laughed and patted her hand. “Not in the way you’re thinking.” She shook her head. “Josie was very civic minded. Whenever the Ladies’ Society here in town embarked on a new project and needed to raise funds, though she didn’t participate in whatever activity that might entail, she did give money toward it. Anonymously, of course, except to us, and Lucy Hart, who learned her secret. The Ladies’ Society even asked her to join them. She was flattered but refused, because she didn’t think some of the women would accept her, which was a shame. Josie was a good woman.”
Sheridan took in the information, comparing it to what she’d been led to believe all her life, devastated to realize Odette and Estelle had told her nothing but lies. She still didn’t understand why, but knowing their penchant for being pious and rigid, she could guess. Josephine DuBois had dared to disobey, just as she had by coming here.
Lily grasped her hand, drawing her attention. “Your mother only told me once what happened the day you were born. Your grandmother, I believe her name was Odette, but I’m not sure because she never really talked about her, was so angry that she’d become pregnant and brought shame to the family, though no one knew for the longest time. Hell, Josie didn’t even know. She was so happy, but she was scared, too, knowing what your grandmother was like. Strict. Cold. Unfeeling.”
Her eyes gleamed with tears for the way Josie had been treated. “She named you, but that was all. She never even got to hold you before you were taken away from her. She was forced to leave your grandmother’s home that very night with nothingexcept a small suitcase and a few dollars in her purse. She was forbidden to ever come back or the door would be slammed in her face.”
“That’s not true. Grand-mère would never have done that.” Even as she said the words, Sheridan wasn’t sure now. “Odette was strict. She was cold as well, but to take me away from her, then force her to leave? That would be just plain cruel.”
“But that’s exactly what she did.”
Sheridan knew the truth at that moment. Odette had done that to her mother. To her.
“She broke Josie’s heart. Your mother thought about you every day, but she did as she was told, afraid of them, knowing she didn’t have the resources, the power or the wealth it would take to fight them to keep you. She was so young, only sixteen when you were born.” Lily picked up a delicate dessert and inspected it, eventually taking a bite. “I’d catch her every now and then writing letters to you. Whether she sent them or not, I don’t know, but she wrote them.” She waved her hand, encompassing the parlor. “This house?—”
“Brothel,” Sheridan insisted, refusing to call it by any other name.
“Parlor house,” Lily corrected her. “She did this. The fine furnishings, the good food, the way she treated us, making sure we are healthy and protected as much as we could be. When Sylvie Caron, the old madam, passed and left this house to her ten years ago, it wasn’t what you see now. Josie spent considerable time and money making it into something comfortable, something beautiful. And it is.” She gestured toward the other woman around the parlor. “We are happy, healthy, and loved. Your mother did that. What you were told by your Aunt Estelle and your grandmother was untrue. Your mother was a fine woman. As I said, one of the best women I’ve ever known.”
It was all so much to take in, but still, she wanted to know more. About her mother. About her father, whom she’d never met either. “What did she look like?”
“Very much like you. Same eyes. Same hair, though Josie’s was a little darker. Same bone structure. You have her height and slenderness as well.” Lily rose from her seat and strolled across the room where she took a photograph down from the wall behind the piano. For as often as Sheridan sat at the grand piano, she’d never noticed it. “Lucy Hart—you met Lucy when you arrived in Serenity—she’s a photographer. She took this photograph of us a few years ago.”
Lily handed her the photograph then proceeded to name everyone in it. When she pointed to Josie, Sheridan drew in her breath. “No wonder everyone knows who I am. I look just like her.”
“You could be her twin.”
“She looks happy.”
Barrie laughed softly. “Your mother was always happy.”
