The Vaudeville Star (13 page)

He smiled and settled back into the bed while Lourdes thought again of the young singer. Ruby. She must find a way to get rid of her rival or at least provide King with an heir. She knew what they said. That any child of hers would be an outcast. He would never fit in either world because of his dark complexion. But that was ridiculous. King longed for an heir, and she would provide him with one.

* * *

A
lice clutched
the white handkerchief tightly in her hand. She looked at the sister nurse, who sat with her hands together in prayer, and at the doctor, who was bending over Caroline.

“Doctor? Please! Tell us what happened!” Alice said in a broken voice.

The doctor listened to her heart with his stethoscope and then turned to Alice. “I am deeply sorry, Mrs. Parker. It seems her heart gave out. Too much for her,” he said quietly as he pulled the sheet up over her head.

Alice gasped while the sister nurse crossed herself and then brought her hands together again.

“Oh no! It’s dreadful! My son will be so distraught. We had thought she might recover,” Alice told the doctor.

He came toward her and laid a hand upon her shoulder. “Let’s go downstairs. The deathbed is no place for a lady. A glass of brandy will help you.”

Alice nodded, leaning on the doctor slightly as they walked from the bedroom. “I cannot believe dear Caroline is gone,” she said, dabbing at her eyes with the handkerchief.

Downstairs, the gray-haired doctor poured a brandy for himself and Alice. “I can stay and break the news to King if you like.”

The doctor had been their family physician for many years and knew King personally.

“No. I’ll do it. I’m his mother. He should hear it from me,” she said softly. “But thank you for offering. You have always been good to our family.”

She walked the doctor to the door, and he smiled kindly at her. When she closed the door behind him, she smiled broadly. At last, she thought. Now they could begin to live again.

* * *

K
ing handed
his coat and hat to the butler as his mother greeted him warmly.

“Ah, there you are. You’re late this evening,” she said as she followed him into his large library.

Almost like clockwork, he poured himself a whiskey and his mother a small glass of sherry. Taking a sip, he eyed his mother.

“Is there something you wish to discuss?” he asked. “You seem to have something to say.”

“Nothing to discuss. Caroline is dead.”

King had his glass halfway to his mouth before he stopped.

“Caroline is dead? You’re sure?”

“Of course I’m sure. The doctor was here. He pronounced her dead. I’ve already contacted the funeral home.”

“How did it happen? I thought she might linger on for years,” he said, twirling the liquor in his glass.

Alice shrugged her shoulders. “Her heart. You know she was never strong.”

“Well, this is most unfortunate.”

“Unfortunate?” Alice’s voice rose. “You’ve been waiting for years. I daresay hoping for it.”

“Yes, Mother. But now I must mourn. In fact, the whole house will be in mourning. You will need to don black—”

“Oh, William! Surely not!” Alice objected.

“Yes, of course we will mourn, Mother. It’s a nuisance, but we all must seem to mourn, including the servants,” he proclaimed.

Alice rolled her eyes. “Oh no.”

“The blinds must be pulled down, the front door knocker tied with a piece of crepe,” King dictated.

“Yes, yes.” Alice nodded. “I’ll place the death announcement in the newspaper.”

“And you must write to all our relatives and friends—” King instructed.

“You as well,” Alice interrupted.

“I will write to our close friends and her family.” King nodded.

Alice tried to stem the irritation she felt at the entire prospect of mourning. Six months of mourning for a daughter-in-law. It was ridiculous! The servants would also mourn, and their mourning items would have to be provided by the family. Outrageous!

“To the outside world, we must appear to mourn,” King said solemnly, staring into his liquor. “Even if secretly we will now finally begin to live,” he said, echoing his mother’s thoughts exactly.

B
essie and Ruby
exited the streetcar together.

“Are you sure you know where you are going?” Ruby asked her friend.

“Yes. I’ve been here several times,” Bessie said self-assuredly. “Most people I know shop here. It’s convenient.”

“What is the name of the store?” Ruby asked.

“It’s called Bloomingdale’s. They’ve been here at this location for almost fifteen years. They sell all sorts of garments that you can purchase ready-made.”

“Purchase and then wear?” Ruby asked. “Ready-made?”

“Of course, Ruby. You sound exactly like the Southern belle you are.”

“Well, back home, we had everything made for us,” Ruby declared.

Bessie tried not to smile. “Of course you did. Your family had money. But when money is tight and people work, they can’t afford a dressmaker. So stores like this provide garments already made and ready to be worn right then.”

Ruby thought about it and then smiled. “That sounds exciting!”

“Back home in Kansas, we ordered from the Sears catalogue all the time! My Momma loved ordering new things about as much as my Daddy hated paying for them.”

Ruby laughed. “I’ve seen the catalogue, but I never ordered from it.”

“I remember those catalogues coming in the mail, and my Momma turned those pages so many times she wore a hole in them. She loved to look at the pictures and tell my Daddy what she wanted. A new dress, a pair of gloves. Archie wanted a pistol one Christmas, and Momma said no.” Bessie smiled at her. “Here we are.”

Ruby looked up at the impressive building and watched several people enter the store ahead of them.

“You’ll love it, Ruby. They have nice things and worth the money. Everything I buy from here lasts.”

Once inside, Ruby was caught by surprise. Though she had spent time in Connecticut, her school had been situated in a small town with no grand stores such as this. In Mississippi, their dressmaker had come to the family, or they visited her small shop in town. But the Bloomingdale’s department store quite overwhelmed her.

There was a wide array of items being sold for ladies. Plush wraps trimmed with silk, heavy woolen jackets, ladies’ suits, underskirts, drawers, and nightgowns as well as a wide selection of corsets and dresses.

She lingered longingly over the fur muffs, which were satin lined. She had never even heard of American lynx. She ran her hand over the fine Siberian beaver. Immediately, she was asked if she required assistance, but she declined.

“You only have to say the word, and King would buy you a dozen,” Bessie whispered.

She shook her head. “No, Bess. The price would be too high.”

By the time they left several hours later, Ruby had purchased everything she needed, and the packages would be wrapped and delivered to her the following day.

* * *

V
ernon had finally been
able to secure a theater for their show in Paris via telegram. It had originally opened in 1889 as the Montagnes Russes but was renamed the Olympia in 1893. Vernon was excited to discover the theater as it had been founded by Joseph Oller, one of the creators of the Moulin Rouge, a nearby cabaret.

The Olympia music hall was easily recognizable by its giant red letters announcing its name, and it played host to circuses and ballets and was delighted to welcome the American vaudeville show.

The music hall recommended the small Hotel Chopin, located near the theater. They had been in business since 1846 and had a good reputation, so the theater told him. He knew it might not be as extravagant as some might hope, but he didn’t want to be too free with another’s man’s purse.

With both the London Matinee Theatre and rooms at Durrants secured as well, Vernon was ready to alert everyone that they must begin packing. He would then secure passage on the appropriate ship once King had approved everything.

He knew that King wanted to be involved in all aspects of the upcoming tour, and though it irritated him on some level, he was also thrilled to be living his dream. He was finally able to tour London and Paris, all due to the little blond who had been an absolute stranger to him.

He didn’t know exactly what Ruby had done to secure the tour, and he didn’t want to know, but he was extremely grateful to her. She had made a lifelong dream of his come true.

* * *

W
hen Ruby returned
from shopping at Bloomingdale’s with Bessie, a handwritten invitation had arrived for her to dine with King that evening. She sighed heavily. She wanted desperately to be onstage, but she didn’t welcome King’s attention. She donned the simple evening dress she had that wasn’t at all formal and took a taxicab to his opulent house.

When she knocked on the door, she noticed black crepe adorning the knocker, and her heart thudded inside her chest. Was it possible that Caroline was dead? She must tread softly. He was in mourning.

When she was shown into the library, King was already there, enjoying a glass of liquor. He came forward to greet her, kissing her on the cheek.

“Dearest Ruby. You are always prompt,” he said as the clock chimed the hour.

“I didn’t expect the invitation. I saw the door. You’re in mourning. I am very sorry.”

King nodded and gestured to the bar. “What will you have?”

“Nothing. Thank you. Was it, the death, was it sudden?”

“Her heart, apparently. So the doctor said.”

“Poor lady.”

“Yes, but if I’ve learned one thing in life it is that we get only the one. We must not squander it.”

He waved a hand before them, and as she walked to the dining room, she felt his hand at the small of her back.

“Of course, now we are all in mourning, you understand. The servants, me,” King said as he helped push her into the chair, even though a footman stood behind them.

“How long does the mourning last? I’m not being morbid, but curious to see if it is any different from the South,” she explained.

King nodded. “Six months.”

They dined quietly and retired to the small parlor. He poured a whiskey for himself while Ruby was content with coffee.

“I wanted to dine with you to tell you in person about the death. So you would know,” he added.

Ruby frowned. “I see . . .”

“Also to let you know that once the mourning period is over, I would like to court you. Properly,” he said, smiling.

Ruby stared at him. “C-court me? I don’t understand.”

“I’m very fond of you, Ruby. You’re lovely and talented. You deserve to be mistress of a large house like this, not onstage for every man to drool over you.”

“How can you offer to court me?” Ruby asked, shaking her head.

It was King’s turn to frown. “My wife is dead. There is no hindrance.”

Ruby closed her eyes. It was her very worst nightmare. Caroline was dead, freeing him to make a new marriage.

“I enjoy being onstage, King. Very much so.” Ruby smiled. “I don’t think the men drool, as you say, as much as they enjoy the performance and being in the theater.”

“Of course you enjoy it. It’s a fancy of yours.” He moved to sit beside her on the couch and took her hands in his. “But surely you can see it’s not right. Men stare at you, dear Ruby. They leer at your breasts and body. It’s unseemly,” he said, licking his lips.

“I don’t think of it that way,” she said, a little frightened. “Perhaps some men do, but—”

“Of course you don’t. You’re an innocent.” He brought one of her hands to his lips and kissed it lightly. “As my wife, it would not be proper for you to be onstage. It just isn’t done. You see that, surely?”

“You attend the theater as well,” Ruby said, sidestepping his words about being his wife. “You don’t leer.”

“Well, I’m different. I enjoy attending theater and supporting it. I always have. But as my wife,” he squeezed her hand, “I would never allow it.”

She felt his other hand wander to her knee, and through the fabric, he squeezed it. She was taken aback by his actions and didn’t know how to react.

“But I’m not your wife, King,” Ruby whispered, her throat suddenly very dry.

“Not yet,” he said, smiling at her. “Not yet.”

He dropped her hand suddenly and rang for the butler.

“I’ve spoken to Vern and understand that everything is ready for the tour. We can talk more of this later. As I mentioned, my mourning period must be observed, so nothing can be discussed presently.”

Ruby nodded woodenly but felt everything spinning out of her control. She knew without a doubt that she had no wish or desire to marry King. It was out of the question. But suddenly she felt compelled to play along for as long as she could because she owed him so much. Not only did she owe him, but the entire troupe was relying on him for the finances.

“I must say it’s a damned nuisance. I was telling my mother—”

“Ah, here you both are.” Alice came in at the exact moment King was speaking of her.

“Allow me to offer my condolences to you,” Ruby said softly.

Alice seemed confused and paused to lock eyes with King. She appeared startled and then regained herself.

“Oh yes! Yes! Thank you, my dear. It was a shock to us all. Poor darling Caroline. She was like a daughter to me,” Alice said, sniffing. “A lovely girl.”

* * *

K
ing led
Ruby out into the foyer and bid her good night. The door had not been closed a full second before he turned on his mother.

“Laying it on a bit thick, weren’t you?” he said.

“I don’t want Ruby to think I’m unsympathetic.”

King gave her a cold look. “It seemed for a second there you didn’t even remember we were in mourning.”

“Well, I have a lot on my mind,” Alice complained. “Much of the funeral arrangements fall to me. It’s tiring. Meanwhile, you’re off to London.”

“Yes,” King said in a long drawl. “But I too still have certain arrangements to make before I go.”

* * *

T
he next day
, Caroline Parker’s obituary was printed in
The New York Times
, and much of New York was talking about it. King had amassed his wealth through certain business practices, many of which were honest, but a few were of not-so-honest means. He had many enemies and almost immediately there was talk that Caroline had died under abnormal circumstances.