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Authors: Nicola Italia

The Vaudeville Star (22 page)

BOOK: The Vaudeville Star
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* * *

T
he next morning
, the troupe’s opening night was written about in several newspapers. One reporter named James Mortimer had been born in Virginia and was a known Confederacy sympathizer. He had worked as an attaché for Napoleon III in France and as a journalist in England. He was known for his caustic theater reviews.

In his review of the troupe, he gave a scathing review of Zeta, calling her “past it” and Lou’s comic routine “at times inventive.” He wrote coolly about the rest of the troupe but took almost two paragraphs to single out Ruby. He called her a “shining star” and a “supreme example of Southern womanhood.”

Edward Rose was a theater critic for
The Sunday Times
. His review was much more flattering for everyone, and he highlighted Ruby as “luminescent” and mentioned King Edward VII’s attendance of the show.

Another influential critic who had been on hand to see the performance was Clement William Scott. He was known to be cutting but also flowery in his critiques and seemed to enjoy all of the acts except one.

He was known to attack the morals of theater people and especially actresses and had given an interview on the subject in 1898. He said theater warped people’s character, and it was impossible for a pure woman to be successful in a stage career. He further stated that all leading actresses were immoral and could only achieve their success by compliance.

He later apologized and recanted his remarks and was ultimately barred from theaters, and his newspaper,
The Daily Telegraph,
fired him, though he freelanced at other papers.

In his review of the show, he singled out the Vadas sisters for showing too much petticoat and too much leg. He said it was “unseemly” and “unnecessary” and furthermore went on to say that even “the undoubted star of the show, Ruby Sutton” showed “far too much breast.”

“How dare he!” Ruby said, throwing the newspaper down.

Bessie bit her lip to keep from laughing. “Ruby, come now! Look at these papers! Everyone is singing your praises!”

“It’s undignified! My costumes are nothing out of the ordinary. Zeta wears the same.”

Bessie rolled her eyes. “Zeta is not a beautiful young woman who has captured the eye of the king of England!”

Ruby was instantly diverted. “Not captured. But he did invite me to the ball!”

“I’m extremely jealous,” Bessie told her.

“Don’t be! I’ll probably be bored stiff with no one to talk to.”

“Ha! More like danced off your feet and fending off the men from all sides.” Bessie took a sip from her coffee cup. “You must tell me every single detail tomorrow morning!”

21

R
uby didn’t know
what to expect at the ball. She wore the garnet-colored dress that she had purchased at Bloomingdale’s as she knew it showed off her figure.

Devonshire House was the London residence of the Duke of Devonshire. It was a grand house where many ostentatious gatherings were held, including a costume ball in 1897 to celebrate Queen Victoria’s Diamond Jubilee. Louisa, Duchess of Devonshire, was one of London’s foremost political hostesses.

Ruby was greeted by the butler, and when she gave her name—as she had no invitation—he merely bowed and admitted her. Once inside the foyer, she joined many women who were dressed beautifully in all manner of colors, and it seemed as if Ruby had walked into a field of pretty wildflowers. The chandeliers sparkled, and the women in their jewels glittered. She nodded to complete strangers. When a footman passed by with a tray of champagne glasses, she took one.

She sipped it carefully, remembering only too well the consequences of the last time she had drunk champagne. She recognized no one, but several men eyed her with interest while one old woman took out her quizzing glass to view her. Ruby almost felt like an exotic caged animal. She took another sip, and then a hush fell upon the room.

The king and queen had arrived. The king looked as he had the night before in his freshly pressed evening clothes while the queen was dressed in a cream-and-gold gown with her auburn hair pulled back. She had a regal and serene way about her, and Ruby watched as everyone bowed and curtsied as they walked through the crowd.

The king was gregarious and made comments here and there as he nodded to his friends.

“My dear Alix,” he said suddenly. “I told you about that vaudeville troupe I saw yesterday. Splendid they were!”

“Yes, Bertie. So you did,” the queen acknowledged.

“Come. Let me present the star of the show to you. She was most magnificent.”

The king moved forward, and Ruby had only enough time to put her drink aside before she was facing the king and his wife.

“My dear Alix. I would like to present to you Miss Ruby Sutton. Miss Ruby Sutton, Her Majesty Queen Alexandra.”

“Your Majesty.” Ruby descended into her elegant curtsy.

The queen smiled at her. “Bertie has spoken of little else since he saw the show yesterday. He spoke of a Chinese magician and a dancing duo.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I very much wanted to see it, but I was feeling poorly last evening.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, ma’am.”

“Perhaps Miss Sutton will favor us with a song,” the king said swiftly, “since, my dear, you couldn’t attend the show. Would you?” he asked Ruby.

Ruby turned large eyes to the king. “O-of course. I would be honored.”

The servants scurried out of the way as they headed into the music room.

“Who plays the piano?” the king asked the guests. “Charles? Henry?”

A timid young woman came forward. She admitted to playing and took the piano bench. Ruby whispered into her ear the song’s name, and she nodded and began playing the introduction as Ruby stood in front of the piano.

She sang “Mighty Lak’ a Rose” as it was becoming more well-known and it was her favorite song. She moved little and remained standing near the piano as she sang. She thought she saw King Parker in the back of the crowd, but she knew that was not possible. When she finished, there was strong applause from those in the room.

“What did I tell you, Alix?” The King laughed heartily as he puffed on his cigar.

“Charming. Most charming, my dear.” Queen Alexandra nodded at Ruby.

“Thank you, ma’am.”

Queen Alexandra spoke to a man near her, and the king lingered only for a moment to thank her for the song before he also began to mingle with the crowd. When her short moment in the spotlight passed, she decided to explore the grand house rather than remain staring at the walls.

She walked along the foyer with its black-and-white checkered floor and the magnificent tapestries that adorned the walls. Everything seemed to glitter with an opulence that she had never seen before. She took the red-carpeted stairs one at a time and glanced behind her as if she was a naughty child doing something she shouldn’t, but no one stopped her.

Upstairs, the walls were decorated in mint green, and a red carpet protected the wood floors. Portraits graced the wall on one side while windows looked out to the street below on the other. There was lovely detail in the home, even in the intricate wood carvings and molding on the ceilings.

At the end of the hall, there was a door slightly ajar, and she entered not realizing it might be someone’s bedroom or that she might be intruding on a lovers’ rendezvous. But the room was empty, and it wasn’t a bedroom at all but a small sitting room decorated in sky blue and cream.

Windows lined the front of the room, looking out onto the street below. As she glanced down into the gaslight-lined street, she heard voices in the hallway. She was not worried about getting caught. She would simply say she had been exploring.

She heard a woman’s raised voice followed by a man’s low voice, but she couldn’t make out what they were saying. A door somewhere opened and closed, and then she heard nothing. She walked the length of the small room, which was furnished with several chairs, a sofa, and a table that held numerous photographs.

She wondered if this might be the duchess’s sitting room. She saw a picture of five children and two adults and knew it was the family. She touched the frame and thought absently of home. She rarely thought of her mother and sister, but she did miss certain things from home.

She missed the hot, muggy summers and the sweet iced tea. She missed the feel of her Daddy’s warmth and his kind eyes twinkling with laughter. She missed the watering hole, and she missed Ford.

She went back to the window and rested her forehead against the pane. The cool glass felt nice. She didn’t want to go back to the party. She wanted to stay here in the silence. She wanted to enjoy this time to herself. There was no audience to please and no one to perform for. She was alone.

She heard voices again, and this time it sounded like two men. She was in the corner of the room leaning against the glass, shrouded in darkness, when the door opened.

“Christ!” the first voice said as the two men entered the room.

Ruby shrank against the bookshelf, hoping she would not be seen.

“Where are the goddamned gaslights?” the first voice spoke again, and Ruby’s eyes widened. She recognized the voice. It was King. King Parker. She had not imagined him downstairs. He was here.

“I’m not sure.”

She’d know that voice anywhere. It was Ford.

“What on earth? Why is she here?” King asked, irritated.

Ford shrugged his shoulders. “I have no idea.”

Ruby bit her lip. Were they talking about her?

“You should have prevented it,” King said.

“How?” Ford said coldly.

“Well, damn it all, man! You know I’m only waiting for my mourning to be over before I make Ruby my wife. Lourdes ruins everything. I don’t want her here.”

“It seems like she didn’t take the breakup very well in New York.”

“I don’t see why not. I gave her the town house, the jewels—”

“Apparently, she only wants you.”

“And now she’s followed me here! Jesus!” King cursed.

“And she’s been drinking,” Ford said quietly.

Both men were silent as Ruby waited. She couldn’t appear to them now. It would seem too odd. “I’ll handle this,” King muttered. “I’ll take her back to her hotel without making a scene.”

King left, and then a woman’s voice joined his in the hallway. They must have placed her in a room if she was too tipsy to move about.

Ruby waited for Ford to leave, but he didn’t. She watched him walk to the window and look out over the street. Was he watching for King?

“You can come out now,” he said quietly.

Ruby took in a deep breath. “How did you—?”

“I can smell your perfume, Ruby.”

Ruby moved forward. “I didn’t want to come out.”

“I know,” he said, but he still wouldn’t face her.

He seemed distracted. Not himself. She tried to change the subject. “Have you heard? About opening night?”

“I was there.”

“You were?”

“Yes.”

“What did you think?”

“You were wonderful. Perfect. What else do you want me to say?”

“Don’t say anything if it’s begrudgingly said.”

“I saw your performance. And then the one after. You have King twisted around your little finger and now you have
the
king.”

“You’re drunk, and you’re being rude.”

“Am I?”

“Yes.”

“But I’ve told you the truth. Doesn’t it suit?”

“If King likes me, I’ve never encouraged it.”

“Nor discouraged it.”

“And if
the
king admires me, well, so be it.”

“Ah, yes. Ruby Mae Sutton and her admirers.” Ford turned to her then. “How many admirers to do you have?”

Ruby flushed.

“Let’s see. There’s King. We all know he wants to marry you. That’s nothing new. Then there’s poor Archie Moore. A puppy love.”

“You’re being cruel.”

Ford came to stand next to her. “Then there’s the actual king,” he said, grabbing her arm. “Who meets you one day and suddenly the next you are here at the Devonshire Ball.”

“And what of it?”

“Do you have any idea the prestige attached to this house and its parties? Women would probably kill their rivals if they could to obtain an invite to this party.”

“So?”

“But you obtained one so easily. I wonder how.”

“What are you suggesting?”

“Nothing. Just that maybe you don’t want to be King’s wife or mistress, but for the king of England, you might just lift up your skirts to show those pretty little legs.”

“Bastard!” Ruby swore at him, but when she lifted her hand to strike him, he easily dodged the blow.

He pressed her against the wall, pinning her there. “Maybe you just like attention so much you can’t help yourself. Can you?” He leaned down, his mouth inches from hers.

“You don’t know me, Ford.”

He grinned. “Haven’t we been over this? Aren’t you the same girl who stripped naked and went into that watering hole knowing damned well I was supposed to marry your sister?”

“She was wrong for you. You know that.”

“Maybe. Possibly. But you still did it.”

“I don’t regret it.”

“And then you gave yourself to me in Connecticut.”

“Yes.”

“And you think of all the men in your life, I don’t know you?” he whispered.

She smelled the whiskey on his breath. “Perhaps you do a little.”

“Perhaps I do a lot. And perhaps I know you too well, Ruby.” He released one arm and brushed his other hand along her collarbone and over the tops of her breasts. Ruby couldn’t stop the little moan that escaped her lips.

“Moan for me.”

“Ford—”

“Just don’t tell me I don’t know you. I do know you, Ruby.”

His mouth crushed against hers, and when he pulled her against him, she threw her arms around his neck.

“Ford,” she whispered in his ear.

He pressed against her, and she could feel the muscles in his chest and arms. He held her so tightly she could feel the tension in him as well. He was jealous. She was joining a world that was far removed from his own, with a king who now admired her.

Ford was tightly wound. He had spent much of the afternoon with King and all of it had been on his upcoming nuptials to Ruby. Ford knew well that Ruby had no intention of marrying King, yet King certainly wanted her.

He recalled the opening night performance and how he had watched with a sinking heart as Ruby was presented to the king of England. He was angry with himself. He should have forced Ruby to wed him after their first night together. He was tired of hiding his feelings and tired of watching Ruby move further and further away from him. He knew now there was no other woman for him but Ruby. He loved her. He could hide it and suppress his feelings, but that was the truth. He loved her.

“Ruby . . .” His fingers trailed into her hair.

He remembered that night on board the ship when she had thrown her pins at him and then he had taken the rest out. Her hair had fanned across his pillow like a golden wave, and he ached to see it like that again.

“Ruby, darling.” His voice was husky and his Southern accent even stronger.

They had grown up in the same little town and in the same small world. They were both Southerners at heart with a love of magnolia trees and sweet iced tea and pecans and tradition.

“Honey, I’m sorry. I am a bastard. I’m a jealous bastard.”

Ruby looked up into his eyes, her little mouth red from his kisses. “Why are you jealous, Ford?”

“I don’t want anyone else around you. It drives me crazy. And I’m behaving like a heel.”

“You know you don’t have anything to be jealous about. You’re the only one who means anything to me.” Her gray eyes glistened in the darkened room.

“Ruby, I love you. I do.”

“You do?” she asked, afraid she had misheard the words.

“I swear I do.”

He pressed against her then, kissing her mouth and pulling up her skirts. In a frantic movement, he unbuttoned his trousers and was immensely grateful for her frilly drawers with the open seam. When he eased into her, she was tight and wet, and she threw her head back in pleasure.

“Ford!”

When he had buried himself to the hilt, she wrapped her legs around his waist. He wanted nothing more than to strip her naked and spend all night loving her, but it would not be possible that night.

“Sweet Ruby,” he murmured in her ear as he picked her up and moved her to the sofa.

Laying her down upon it, he admired her gray eyes set in the small oval face that he had grown to adore.

“I’ve always loved you, Ford,” she said quietly. “Always.”

Moving slowly in and out, the sight of her face and the look in her eyes almost sent him over the edge. He could feel the silkiness of her legs wrapped around him even as her upper body remained clothed. When he leaned in to kiss her, he watched her face as the orgasm swept over her, and he easily spilled his seed inside her warm body.

BOOK: The Vaudeville Star
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