The Vaudeville Star (14 page)

When Ruby awoke the next morning, she lay in bed listening to the bustle outside the window and tried to focus her mind. She had hoped stupidly that her rise to fame would be her own doing and she would be proud of her achievement.

But now it seemed she had fallen into a web of which she wanted no part. True, she wanted King to financially back the tour, and she wanted to shine, but she certainly wouldn’t give him anything short of her appreciation. She would never allow him access to her body simply for his help, and marriage to him was unacceptable.

When the knock sounded, she bid enter as she flung back the bed covers.

“Still in bed?” Bessie asked, carrying two cups of coffee with the newspaper under her arm.

It was their ritual now to meet in the mornings over coffee and the paper. Bessie had asked Mrs. Hodges if she could prepare their coffee, and in lieu of a larger meal, she had agreed. Their landlady was happy to accommodate as the two women never caused her trouble.

“I’m up,” she said, gratefully taking the coffee offered her.

“Have you seen the paper?” Bessie asked as she handed it to her.

“You mean the one you just handed me?” Ruby asked, smiling and taking both paper and coffee to the window seat.

Bessie sat next to her. “Yes. That one.”

“Silly you,” Ruby said, smoothing out the newspaper and sipping the coffee.

When she came upon the obituary for Caroline Parker, she nodded. “Yes, I know.”

“You know? How?”

“I had dinner last night with King.”

“Dinner?”

“Yes.”

“His wife just died,” Bessie said, her voice filled with accusation.

“Believe me, it wasn’t my choice. I don’t welcome his attentions,” she told her friend. “In fact, the whole thing preys on my mind. I want to be onstage, and I want top billing. What I don’t want is to be King’s wife.”

“His wife?” Bessie sounded shocked.

“Yes. He’s made his intent clear.”

“He could give you such a life,” Bessie added. “Are you certain you don’t want it?”

Ford’s handsome face flashed into Ruby’s mind. “I’m absolutely certain. I know what I want. What I don’t want is King Parker.”

“Hmmm. This is a pickle. He obviously desires you. What do you plan to do?”

Ruby scanned the paper. “I’ve given it some thought. He has to remain in mourning. To do anything less would appear disrespectful.”

“That’s true.”

“I must bide my time. Tour London and Paris and hope that his desire wanes and that I can be free from his unwanted attention.”

“It’s doubtful it will wane. He seems to be a man who gets what he wants. After all, he is the King of Manhattan!” Bessie said.

“Well, King or no King, I don’t welcome his attention. And since I don’t want to put the tour in jeopardy, I’ll wait.”

“I agree. You should wait. After all, he hasn’t done anything but talk. But what if waiting doesn’t work? What if after the period of mourning, he still wants you?”

Ruby cast a glance out the window and pondered her words. It was easy to say she didn’t want King and that she would never be his wife. But such a dominating man wasn’t used to the word no. She wasn’t frightened, but she didn’t like the position she was in either. She would do what she must. She would go to Europe and keep King at arm’s length. She didn’t like to seem disingenuous, but she also didn’t want to be forced into a situation.

“I don’t know, Bess. For now, I must wait.”

* * *

L
ourdes was pleased
to see King as he entered the foyer of her town house and dismissed the butler immediately.

“You didn’t send word, darling,” she said sweetly. “You usually do. Brandy?”

He nodded. She poured two glasses and handed him one as she sipped the liquor from the other. She sat beside him on the small couch and ran her hand up his leg, touching his cock. He removed her hand.

“Did you come to talk?” she asked, sitting back.

“Not really. I always liked the way you decorated this parlor. Simple yet elegant.”

“I’m glad you like it.”

“Caroline is dead.”

Lourdes heard the words, but it took her a moment to understand their full meaning. “I see.”

“No soft words of condolence for me? About your rival’s death?”

“She wasn’t my rival, King. She was your wife.”

“Exactly so. You should show some respect.”

Lourdes bowed her head a little. “I am sorry for your loss.”

“You aren’t at all,” he sneered.

“King—”

“But never mind all that. She is dead, and there’s an end to it.”

King stood suddenly, gulping down the drink and placing the glass aside. When she stood next to him, she tried to place a hand on his shoulder, but he shook it off.

“As I said, I didn’t come here to talk.”

With no soft words or kindness, King spun her around to face the sofa. Pulling up her skirts, he unbuttoned his trousers and kicked her legs apart.

“King—” She tried to turn her head to look at him, but saw the darkness in his eyes.

She knew better. He was in one of his moods, and the best thing to do was be silent and let him have his way. His hands grasped her hips as he thrust inside her.

She felt one hand move to her hair, and suddenly he was yanking on her hair, pulling her head up sharply. She hated this side of him. When he was like this, there was no affection or kindness, just sex. And when he took her as he did now, she felt like a whore, bought and paid for.

His hips slapped against her ass again and again. He didn’t care for her release, and she knew there would be none. This night, there would be no pleasure for her, only his.

When he climaxed, he did so in several grunts, spilling his seed inside her. She prayed the seed would take root and give her the son she longed for. When he moved away from her, she stood up and smoothed down her skirts even as she felt his seed slide down her inner thigh.

“You can keep the town house. I will make sure the deed is in your name,” he told her absently.

Lourdes smiled. The deed had always been in his name. He was being generous.

“Any jewels, furs, and such you can keep as well. It will be a clean break,” King said, picking up his gloves and hat.

Lourdes clutched the side of the table as she heard the cold words. “What? King, what are you saying?”

“Caroline is dead. So much the better.”

“Yes, but how does that affect us? We can go on as before.”

“Not as before, my dear. As I said, it must be a clean break.” He chuckled. “I sincerely doubt my new bride would like a mistress between us. Besides, I doubt I will want one for some months to come. She’s young and beautiful.”

Lourdes felt a chill creep down her spine. The young singer. The blond. He was speaking of her.

“You plan to marry already? Your wife is not yet cold in her grave,” Lourdes said hoarsely.

King turned and advanced upon her. “You keep the town house, the furs, the jewels.”

Lourdes nodded. She would say nothing more. She knew to argue with him now would be futile. He had a mean streak and could be violent. She had been bruised more than once by his hands.

His fingers traced her lips, and then he pinched them shut. “And you keep that pretty little mouth shut. Understood?”

Lourdes nodded as King smiled.

“Good girl.”

R
uby surveyed
the borrowed trunk that lay on the floor of her room. She had brought a small suitcase with her from school, but this trunk was larger and more suitable for ship traveling, and Bessie had graciously lent it to her. Ruby didn’t have that many clothes to choose from, but she was pleased to see her newly purchased clothes among the faded older ones. She had thought it odd to purchase the ready-made garments from the department store, but they were just as good.

She was sure her mother and Pernetta would disagree, but she had enjoyed the entire shopping experience at Bloomingdale’s. Her clothes, gloves, and coat all lay in the steamer trunk as she looked about the room to see if anything else remained. They were leaving in two days.

She had a few books that she had brought with her from Connecticut and her toiletries, but that was pretty much it. She was a little disheartened to realize that her whole life could be packed away into a single trunk.

Meanwhile, down the hallway, she heard the Vadas sisters arguing over what they would take and what they should leave behind. Between the three sisters, they had enough garments to fill ten trunks, possibly more.

Bessie knocked and entered the room. “You should hear the sisters fighting over their clothes. They are hilarious!”

“I did hear them. Fighting over a dress or a garter. Ridiculous.” Ruby laughed.

“You never had to fight over clothes?” Bessie asked.

“I did. I had my older sister, Pernetta. Since she was older and my mother’s favorite, she got whatever she wanted. If she wanted a new dress, she only had to say so,” Ruby recalled.

“And you?”

“I wasn’t into dresses then. I only ever wanted one thing,” she said wistfully, thinking of Ford. “But my Daddy was generous with me. I never wanted for anything.”

Bessie cast a glance at the trunk, which looked half-empty. “Are you missing something? Your trunk looks bare.”

“I don’t have that much to pack. Besides, onstage I’ll be in costume. That reminds me. We need to stop at the theater to get the costumes to pack.”

Bessie nodded. “We’ll do that after lunch. I’m starved.”

* * *

A
fter lunch
, Ruby and Bessie stopped by the theater to pick up their costumes. Ruby had three costumes, including the orange and cream gown and a new red one with a plunging neckline that Bessie had handpicked for her. King had not seen the gown, but Vernon had whistled lowly when she modeled it for him.

The third gown she had chosen was a striped gown of green and black that showed off her figure and had feathers along the bodice. It was pretty yet elegant, and she placed them together in her dressing room to pack them in the trunk.

She knew Bessie was somewhere in the theater picking up hers and Archie’s costumes and she would be finished soon enough. It was late afternoon, and she settled onto the sofa, closing her eyes. She would rest until it was time to go.

The sound of voices outside her dressing room door woke her. Ruby stretched and yawned but didn’t think anything about them. When the conversation continued, she listened absently, thinking perhaps Bessie was outside talking to someone.

“I’m tired of all the attention she gets. Why? Because she is pretty and can sing passably?” Ruby sat up as she immediately recognized Zeta’s accented voice.

“Well—”

“And because she’s King’s mistress,” Zeta spat out.

“Perhaps.” Ruby recognized Lou’s calm voice.

“Perhaps? Of course she has spread her legs for him. He finances this entire tour to Europe on nothing? I don’t think so,” Zeta said spitefully.

“It’s possible.”

“And now that he’s killed his wife—”

“Zeta! Be quiet!” Lou demanded. “We don’t know that!”

“
The New York Post
said so! I believe them. What rich man wants to be tied to a dying wife? And now Miss Peasant is situated to be the next Mrs. Parker!”

“Zeta!” he hissed.

The voices moved away, but Ruby remained sitting upright on the sofa. She felt faint. Was it true? It couldn’t be true! Had King killed his wife? She felt light-headed. No. He would never kill his wife. It wasn’t possible.

But then she thought of Zeta’s hateful words and the truth in them. Yes. What rich, powerful man would want to be tied to a sickly wife? Very few. Even if King had loved Caroline, she had provided no heirs, so that had been denied him.

She was suddenly frightened of him. She would have to spend five days on board ship with him, but thankfully Ford and the other performers would be there as well. She felt the sensation of being trapped. King had financed the tour, and she was indebted to him. Not only for herself, but for everyone in the tour. She would do what she must. Bide her time and wait.

* * *

T
he
Oceanic
ocean
liner was part of the White Star Line and would take them from New York to Liverpool. At the time of its launching, it was the largest ship in the world.

Ruby had never before been on board a ship and was fascinated by it all. She knew that the Vadas sisters and several other performers were sharing rooms with each other, but for some reason, she had a first-class room all to herself. Zeta and Bessie also had single rooms while King had a suite that he had insisted upon.

She watched as Max walked by carrying a small suitcase, followed by Vern making a fuss about his room arrangements.

“I don’t intend to spend the next five days listening to you snore,” he told Max sharply.

Bessie smiled and nudged Ruby as they stood together at the ship’s rail.

“I heard that Vern was supposed to be in his own room, but instead he’s rooming with Max. He’s livid!”

Ruby smiled as the cool breeze hit her face. She was happy to have a room to herself. She would spend the next five days trying her best to avoid King and getting herself mentally ready to take on London. She glanced across at the ramp and saw several people walking onto the ship, including Ford.

He looked terribly handsome in a gray-striped suit and hat with a suitcase in one hand. He caught her looking at him and smiled as he continued on his way. Ruby felt her heart catch as she watched him disappear. Even now, after all these years, she still adored him. He had captured her heart long ago without even trying.

“Zeta, you, and I all have our own rooms. I wonder why? We will room together in London, so why not now?” Ruby asked as she looked out over the pier with everyone still milling about.

“I don’t know, and I don’t care. I intend to enjoy every minute aboard ship and think about absolutely nothing.”

“Easy for you to say. You won’t spend your days hiding from King,” Ruby complained.

“But he’s in mourning! He won’t come near you,” Bessie said. “And what with the papers and their foul gossip? He definitely will not be making any advances now.”

“Maybe.”

“You’ve heard about the gossip?” Bessie lowered her voice.

Ruby nodded. “About his wife’s death?”

“Yes,” Bessie confirmed. “That he may have had something to do with her death.”

“It can’t be true. It’s just as you say. Gossip. He wouldn’t harm his reputation by hurting her, and he wouldn’t kill his own wife.”

“Unless he really wanted her gone and divorce was not an option.”

“Don’t say that Bessie! You make it seem as if I was his motive!” Ruby was alarmed.

“I didn’t mean that. You’ll be fine. It will be okay,” Bessie said as they both looked out over the pier as people waved good-bye to their loved ones.

“I do hope so, Bess.”

* * *

T
hat night at dinner
, everyone dressed in evening clothes for their meal of barley broth, beef steak, oyster pie, roast pork, and boiled potatoes, followed by apple tart and coffee for dessert.

The dining saloon was situated on the upper deck and extended the full width of the ship, seventy-five feet. It could seat over three hundred people beneath its domed skylight with stained glass in the center of the saloon. The ceiling was white and gold, and the walls were paneled with elaborate figures, carvings, and moldings. Ruby had to stop herself from staring all around her like the country bumpkin Zeta always called her.

She discovered that the ship had a first-class library and smoking room, which they could retire to after dinner, and she wanted badly to explore the ship. She noticed Ford at another table with Blanka Vadas drooling over him, but she didn’t see King at all. She wondered if he might be dining alone in his room.

She excused herself from the table and went out on deck. It was a cool, clear night, and she felt the slight breeze as the ship moved through the Atlantic. She closed her eyes and thought in excitement of what was soon to come. She would be in London performing her three songs before the British people.

“You make quite a pretty picture standing here at the rail,” Ford said as he joined her.

As she turned, the wind ruffled her hair, and she tucked a lock behind her ear. She hadn’t seen him since their last encounter, and she thought suddenly of his mouth on hers and the rush of desire that moved through her.

“Are you excited to be going to London?” she asked.

“I’ve been before. This trip, my only concern is watching over you.”

“Do I need to be watched over?”

“No. In fact, I don’t think I know a more capable woman. Perhaps I should rephrase and say I want to keep an eye on King
for
you,” he said.

Ruby’s smiled faltered, and she nodded. “Yes. You are the one reason I could move forward, knowing that you would be here as well.”

Ford touched her bare arm. It was cool to the touch. “Has something happened, Ruby?”

“No. Just that he’s made his intentions clear.”

“His intentions?” Ford felt an intense surge of jealousy at the thought of King with Ruby.

“He wants to marry me.”

Ford said nothing.

“Of course I won’t. But I’m worried. After all the money he has spent on the tour, I feel obligated to—”

“You feel obligated to what?” Ford demanded.

Ruby flushed. “Not what you think!”

“I don’t think anything. Tell me.”

“I just feel obligated to be . . .” Ruby struggled for the words as Ford glared at her.

She saw a muscle tick in his cheek, and she knew instinctively that he was jealous.

He waited.

“To be nice.”

Ford looked across at her and nodded. “You need to tread carefully. He’s a powerful man. He doesn’t like the word no.”

“So I gathered.”

“Has he done anything?”

Ruby thought of King’s hand on her knee, but she shook her head.

“Good. Just keep your distance. We only have five days on board ship.”

“I’ve thought of all this. I intend to do exactly that.”

“On top of which, he’s in mourning. So he must appear to be in mourning, even though he’s probably glad she’s dead.”

Ruby blanched. “Is he glad?”

“She was sick for some time. I think he was probably relieved more than glad.”

“I read about the rumors,” she lowered her voice. “About the death. That he might have had a hand in it.”