The Vaudeville Star

“Exactly.”

“I know it’s selfish, but can we wait and make our

plans after Paris?” she asked.

Ford smiled and kissed her forehead. “It’s not selfish. I know you’re worried about his reaction, and hell, so am I. But we need to think about the tour and everyone else involved.”

“So after Paris, then what?” Ruby asked.

“After Paris, I intend to make Ruby Sutton, Ruby Rutledge.”

Ruby smiled widely. “Ruby Rutledge. And my career onstage?”

“We can live in New York. I’ll remain with the agency, and you can return to your beloved stage.”

“You wouldn’t ask me to give it up?”

“Of course not. That’s your dream.”

She wrapped her arms tightly around his neck. “You were always one of my dreams too, Ford. Now I have both.”

22

Bessie pestered Ruby from the minute she entered their hotel room until she went to sleep. When she woke up the next morning, Bessie was there again. What did Devonshire House look like? What did the ladies wear? What was the king like? What did the queen wear? Were they nice? Were they dripping in jewels? Did she talk to the royal couple?

“Don’t I even get coffee?” Ruby croaked.

Bessie was already dressed and promised to bring up a tray of coffee with breakfast if Ruby would submit to her questions. She faithfully promised, and Bessie was gone in a flash. Ruby turned over in bed to sleep a few more minutes, but a knock sounded on the door. She wondered what Bessie had forgotten as she threw on her dressing gown to admit her friend.

“Oh,” Ruby said softly as she came face-to-face with King Parker.

“Hello, Ruby. I am sorry to intrude on you so early in the morning, but I needed to speak with you,” he said, looking behind him in an agitated manner.

“Of course.” Ruby tied her dressing gown tightly about her waist. “My roommate, Bessie, has just left to get breakfast,” she explained as King entered and she closed the door behind him.

“Yes, I passed her.”

Ruby pulled the covers up on her mussed bed and turned back to King. “You said you needed to speak to me.”

“I do.”

Ruby opened the curtains, and light flooded into the room. It was the first time she really looked at King, and she noticed his clothes were crumpled, and he looked as if he hadn’t shaved. He looked as if he had not been to bed the night before.

“Are you all right, King? You don’t look well. Are you ill?” she asked in concern.

“I didn’t sleep last night,” he admitted.

“Should I call for the hotel doctor?”

“No. No, he won’t help,” he said, shaking his head.

“There’s no alcohol in the room, or I would offer you a drink. You seem to need it,” she said as she watched him pace the room.

“A drink? No. I don’t need a drink. Look, Ruby, I must speak with you before your roommate returns.” He caught her hand, and together they sat upon the sofa.

“King, if it is about our marrying . . .” Ruby began, trying to sound polite.

“Marrying? No. That’s not it at all.”