The Vaudeville Star

“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.”

King 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.