The Vaudeville Star

“Ooo la la!” Ruby laughed, throwing a garter at Bessie.

Together with Archie and Ford, they made their way to the station and the train that would take them from the London to Dover. From Dover, they would cross the Channel by ferry to Calais, France, and take another train to Paris. On the train, Archie and Bessie moved to the dining car to take their meal while Ford and Ruby stayed behind.

“Before we join the others, I need to tell you something,” he said in a serious tone.

“All right.”

“Inspector Thompson paid me a visit before we left for the station.”

“Yes?”

“He believed everything we said, and he wanted to waste no time. So they went round to King’s town house to question him further.”

“He denied it, of course.”

“No, Ruby. He’s gone.”

“Gone? What do you mean gone?”

“He wasn’t there. His staff hadn’t seen him for a day, nor has anyone else. Apparently, he had a business appointment that he missed. He’s vanished.”

“Perhaps he’s traveling out of London?”

Ford shook his head. “No. They think he’s running. From them. And we have to be careful. He may be coming for you.”

Ruby couldn’t help but shudder. “Me? Why me?”

“He’s done this for you. He’s done this all to be with you.”

“Ford—” her voice cracked.

She realized it was true. Though King had wanted to be free from Lourdes and the constraints of an illegitimate child, he also wanted Ruby by his side.

He pulled her to him, holding her against his chest. “I’m here. I won’t let him harm you.”

He kissed the top of her head as Ruby clung to him.

25

Ruby toyed with her Brown Windsor soup and watched as Archie and Bessie helped themselves to the crusty bread. She looked about the dining car, where everyone was busy eating and enjoying their meal, but Ruby could only think of King out there, somewhere.

She cursed herself for not stopping it all sooner. She should have never gone to Europe, never accepted his help, never allowed herself to become beholden to him. But how could she have known it would all lead to this? It felt like a beautiful symphony composed with care and love—until suddenly the piano struck a wrong chord. Then a flute was sharp. A violin was playing all the wrong notes, and it was as it was now. A hodgepodge of notes scattered into the air with no method or meaning. It was ugly.

Her life with King had become that. She looked over her shoulder and saw an elderly couple enjoying their meal. She forced a smile at them. She could only pretend everything was right, even though it wasn’t. She would perform in Paris as she had in London. She would sing and smile, and they would love her.

She watched as the elderly couple moved away from their table and past hers.

“My dear, forgive us for interrupting your dinner. Are you Ruby Sutton?” The woman’s crisp British accent was prominent.

Ruby smiled. “Yes, I am.”

“We saw you perform in London at the Matinee Theatre,” the woman said.

“Yes. We did perform there. We are now on our way to Paris. We’re performing at the Olympia,” Ruby explained.

“You were wonderful, my dear. Absolutely wonderful. I told my husband that you were worth every penny. So fresh and the voice of an angel.”

Ruby was caught off guard by the compliment. “That’s very kind of you. Thank you.”