The Vaudeville Star

“It seems our patron has some corrections and changes,” Vernon said as he scanned the paper.

“I don’t see why I should have to bow down to his wishes,” Zeta said, scowling. “I’ve been on the stage long enough to know what works and what doesn’t.”

“Well, by all means, Zeta. When next you see him, please relay that sentiment to him. Hopefully, it won’t be hard to find new work,” Vern said as the Vadas sisters giggled.

“It seems he had no suggestions for you, Ruby. Only noted here that you were sublime,” Vernon said wryly.

“Sub-leem?” Zeta said, pronouncing the word incorrectly. “What is that? What does that mean?” she asked those around her.

“It means, dear Zeta, that our patron has a muse,” said Lou quietly.

“Oh yes? Big surprise there!” Zeta laughed lightly. “Subleem! He made the word up!”

Ruby quickly left the stage and tried to fight the rush of color that filled her cheeks.

“Don’t pay her any attention, Ruby. You know where it stems from,” Bessie said as she followed her backstage.

“I know. I just wish King wouldn’t give them cause to talk. I don’t like anyone thinking I’m here because I’ve slept with him.”

“I know the truth. And if I hear anyone say otherwise, I will correct them,” Bessie assured her.

They both entered her small dressing room, and she turned to her friend.

“He’s coming with us to London, Bess. I heard it.”

“He is? How odd.”

“Is it?”

Bessie surveyed her. “Well, most financiers don’t give quite so much personal attention to their projects.”

Her meaning was clear. Ruby was the reason that King was taking a firsthand interest in the show, and it made her uncomfortable. She wanted to rise to be a star, but not at the expense of her dignity. In her heart, she had only ever loved Ford, even if he didn’t love her.

“Yes. I’m aware of that. Little did I know that when I set out for New York I would be encountering such a lovely brother and sister as well as the King of Manhattan.”

“I don’t think you’ve encountered him, Ruby. I think he’s captivated.”

Captivated, Ruby thought. Ford had used the same word when talking about King’s fascination for her. She closed her eyes. Her only safeguard was that King was married, and she was pleased to no end that it was the case.

Alice moved into the dark room that faced the garden. The curtains were drawn, and the smell of medicine and decay seemed to permeate the air. The sister they employed from the nearby abbey was garbed in her nun’s habit and sat by the bedside, reading to herself.

Alice looked over Caroline’s small body and sighed. She was getting much worse. She looked pale and thin and hadn’t left her bed for a week. Consumption. They all knew it was only a matter of time. Alice was angry with herself. She had handpicked Caroline from all the women in their social circle.

Even at that time, she knew King to be overbearing and demanding. He loved beautiful objects and beautiful women. Even as a small child, he had loved to hold and acquire precious objects and then squirrel them away in his room.

With Caroline, she had thought they would be the perfect match. She was not overly educated, so she wouldn’t contradict him. She was lovely enough to hold his attention but would not flirt and attract other men. Jealousy was an ugly thing, and in King it was murderous.

But Caroline’s fragility had been her undoing. She didn’t enjoy King’s large sexual appetite, and after the first miscarriage occurred, she all but pushed him into his current mistress’s bed.

Alice had tried to counsel her daughter-in-law. The family needed an heir, and she had begged her to be kind and loving to her son. But she called King a monster. She said he wanted her to do disgusting things and she would not. When the second miscarriage happened, she told Alice she was glad. She claimed king had raped her in a violent rage.

Alice had laughed at her. No husband could rape a wife. It was impossible. Alice was a Victorian woman through and through and always deferred to the man of the house, be it her son or husband.

After the second miscarriage, things grew worse between the couple, and Caroline’s health deteriorated. Another pregnancy that ended in another miscarriage had been the final straw. King demanded Caroline be placed in the back of the house and watched over by a nurse. He never visited her, and he wanted nothing more to do with her.

The sister nurse caught Alice’s eye and nodded. She placed the book aside and left the room. Alice often visited in the afternoon, so it was nothing out of the ordinary. She sat in the vacant chair and looked down at Caroline.

Once so fragile and pretty, now she was wasting away. It was no way to live, and her son needed an heir. She took the small vial from her skirt pocket and opened it. She poured the contents into the pitcher of water. It was a clear substance, and it mixed well with the water.