The Vaudeville Star

“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 r

oom. 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.