by Karen Kay
But this was not then, and he was not a young boy to take offense so easily. What was wrong with her? Couldn’t she grant him quarter? After all, he was new to this land. He didn’t know this town, he hadn’t yet learned their rules…
“Oh, my hat,” she complained. “Where’s my hat?”
Looking around, Black Lion noticed an object of similar coloring to the woman’s dress. It was probably the object in question.
Letting go of Ranckles’s reins, he recovered the article, though the action little aided his cause. Mud had worked its damage on the hat. A long blue feather, instead of standing straight up, limped to the side. Carefully, he tried to make it stand upright. The action was useless.
Shrugging, he offered the item to her. “Back in my country, men and women who are not married, or planning to be married, do not speak, let alone touch one another. I have done both with you this day, and I fear that either I must bring our conversation to an end, or I will be forced to marry you.”
Though he smiled a little, she gasped. “Are you trying to insult me?”
“I flatter you. Or I try to. There are many women who would be honored by such a declaration from me.”
“Well, I am not one of them.”
His smile broadened. “Do not worry. If I am forced to add you to my family, my first wife will tame you.”
Her second gasp was even louder than the first. He had known, of course, that the taunt would hit a chord with her, since he had come to understand that white people married only once. But, the Great Spirit be praised, he couldn’t seem to help but tease her.
As though to add further insult, in the process of handing the hat to her, their fingers accidentally touched. At once, excitement burst through him. He even swayed toward her.
He said, “I will pay for the damage to your dress, or I will buy you a new one. People here call me Two Bears. You have only to ask for me, and others will bring you to me.”
“I do not want your money. I want you to—” She stopped suddenly.
Waiting, Black Lion raised an eyebrow at her.
“I want you to go away and leave me alone,” she finished, although as she spoke, her hat fell from her fingers, the cap landing in the mud. The feather fell over as if it might drink in the substance. Her possession was now beyond repair.
Still, he couldn’t help but grin at her. “If all that you require of me is my absence, it will be my pleasure to obey.” His smile widened, and without another word, he turned his back on her.
“Wait. It is not my duty to seek you out. A gentleman should always solicit the lady.”
He sighed. “Please, I do not have time for more talk about manners. I am late.”
“And you expect me to be sympathetic? Perhaps you should arise earlier if you have trouble arriving in a timely manner. Or better yet, maybe you should watch where you are going.”
“I think you are right. I should, and I will,” he said, just as if he might be agreeing with her. “But at least I have only a change in my schedule to consider.”
“A change in…?” She frowned, grasping that she was being insulted. But how? “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Only this. Where I was raised, young women do not venture out into the day alone, and if they did…” he let the insinuation dangle between them for a moment before finishing, “…they are what the white man calls fair game.”
“What? Why, that’s as barbaric to a modern woman as—”
“And when they speak,” he continued, cutting her off, “only soft words of comfort and pleasure come forth from their lips.”
“Meaning that I…? How dare you,” she sputtered. “That’s the second time you have spoken offensively to me.”
“I mean it not as ridicule, but as instruction because you…” He shook his head. There seemed little point in explaining it was his duty to protect a young lady’s reputation. Besides, such a declaration would hardly be true. He had meant to be as forward with her as she was being with him. “If you will stay until after the show, I will seek you out then, and I will make good on my obligation to you.”
“Pray, do not bother. I will see to the repair of the dress myself.”
“If you wish it to be so, then it will be so.” He turned to leave.
“Oh!” she exclaimed. “A real gentleman would press his cause.”
Once again, he turned back and crossed his arms over his chest. “Either I will pay you for the damage, or I will not pay. The choice is up to you. Now be clear on this matter. Do I look for you after the show? Or not?”
“You do not. And, sir?”
He raised an eyebrow.
“You are no gentleman!” She said it arrogantly, lifted her chin and swung around to stomp off in the opposite direction of his destination. He might have watched her for a moment. She was certainly pretty enough he would have liked to memorize her every feature. But he had wasted enough time.
Picking up Ranckles’s reins, he hurried in the direction of the arena.
“Well, Irena,” said Suzette. “I hope you’re proud of yourself.”
“I am.” Irena smiled, the action transforming her demeanor so much that she looked forty instead of her fifty-seven years of age. “After all, I did loan you the use of my carriage so you could rush home and change your dress. And because I bid my driver to hurry, it was all done easily, with little time lost.”
Suzette frowned. “I am not talking about that, and well you know it. I’m speaking of what you did earlier. You embarrassed me, and you did it intentionally. You embarrassed William too, though he is such a sweet man that he laughed. Really, is it too much to ask that you act like a real grandmother?”
“Oh?” Irena’s expression was sweet innocence. “Pray tell me, how is a real grandmother supposed to act?”
“I am not sure, since you rarely present me with an example that is one most commonly held. But this I know, a real grandmother does not act as you have today.”
“Hmm. Let me see. Is it that you want me to be at home cooking, sewing, cleaning? Perhaps you think I should be teaching your children, when you have them, to sing?”
“Never to sing.”
Irena set her head to the side. “Is the opera really so bad?”
“Of course it isn’t. It’s been my life, it has been…it’s been the making of me. But I want something more from this life. Certainly the aesthetics of the music are well worth attaining. And if that were all there was to it…”
“But that is all there is to it, isn’t it, dear?”
“Pray, do not pretend you don’t know of what I speak.”
“Oh?”
“There’s the jealousy that goes along with the trade, for one. There’s also the backbiting, the hypocrisy, the gossiping.”
“Oh, I suppose you have a minor point there.”
“Alas, it is a major point, Irena. And it’s one I can do without in my life. What I desire is a family and a man who is not only worthy of me, but who loves me. William is such a man. You will see. William is kind. He is gentle.”
“He is ruled by his mother.”
“Perhaps. Is that so bad?” Suzette shrugged.
Irena frowned. “It could be…if the woman decides she does not care for you.”
“She likes me.”
“She likes you now. But what is she going to do if you take one false step?”
“Come now. You know that is all but impossible. Think of the many operettas that I have performed in. Have I ever missed a cue? Have I ever sung an off-key note? Flubbed the music?”
“But that is part of the problem, child. You are from the stage, from the opera. His mother will never forget it, and she will be looking for a chance to take you to task…any misstep. And you know as well as I do that when someone is antagonistic toward you, you are more inclined to make mistakes.”
“It’s going to be fine. I love William. He loves me. Even if his mother raises questions about me, he will defend me.” Suzette raised her chin. “I know he will.”
She looked around. They were talking in the entryway of Buffalo Bill’s tent. Across a narrow pathway from this main tent stood the Indian encampment. Suzette knew it was there, but she stood with her back to it, as though by ignoring it, it would go away.
“Irena, could we please be on our way? I feel that we do not belong here. Besides, William is waiting for us.”
“He will keep for a little while. The show is entertaining enough to hold his attention.”
“Yes, but why should he have to ‘keep’? Come. I know this show may seem exciting to you, but—”
“It is exciting, Suzie. And indeed, when one reaches my age, it is well to find some aspect of life that is…enjoyable.”
Suzette breathed in passionately. “You are not so old. And even if you were, which you are not, you don’t look your age. Now, please. I miss William. Please accompany me as I walk back to my seat.”
“I cannot.”
Suzette raised her eyebrows. “Oh? Why can you not?”
“Because I promised Buffalo Bill I would sing at his reception tonight. Did you know that the Queen will be attending?”
Suzette closed her eyes, but only for a fraction of a second. “You promised Buffalo Bill? Oh, Irena, no…”
Irena placed an arm around her granddaughter’s shoulders. “What has happened to you, Suzie?”
“What do you mean?”
“What I mean is…” Irena frowned. “Was your upbringing really so bad? I’ve always thought you had the best of all worlds. You had me with you always. You had your parents, also, when they weren’t busy with an opera. Now, certainly I’ll admit there is jealousy in the trade, as you say. But what field of endeavor excludes jealousy?”
“There are many I can think of.”
“After all,” Irena continued, as though Suzette hadn’t spoken, “your mother never entertained other men, your father never kept other women. They loved each other. They still do, and they love you.”
“Yes, but…”
“And you and I, we used to have such fun.”
Suzette set her lips together. “I have grown up. That’s what has happened. And, forgive me for this next observation, but I think it’s time that you grew up too.”
“Ouch!”
“Tell Buffalo Bill you made a mistake.”
“I will not.”
“Shall I tell him for you, then?”
“No, child.” Irena’s voice was firm. “I’m still your grandmother, Suzie dear. I know you are proud of the fact you are marrying for love instead of using William to further your career. And I am happy that you are proud and are attaining entrance into the world of your choosing. But do not interfere in my life.”
Suzette grimaced. “I suppose that’s fair. But then, by the same token, you should not interfere in mine, and especially not in public, singing a funeral march.”
“I am your grandmother. All good grandmothers interfere in their granddaughter’s lives.”
Despite herself, Suzette smiled then quickly hid it. “You know that’s not true.”
Irena cocked her head.
“Oh, I give up,” said Suzette. “Very well. Have it your way. Sing for Buffalo Bill. But I will return here after the show. I will sit and watch as you charm the Queen as easily as you captivate a crowd. But after that, promise me that we will go.”
Irena nodded. “Yes. I promise. Then we can go.”
Suzette swung her head back and forth, admitting defeat. “Good. I guess that’s all I have to say. If you’ll excuse me, I am going back to William.”
“Very well, child.”
Chapter Four
Night had turned to morning, and still the crew of the Wild West Show partied. William had long since gone home, but not so Suzette. She was not leaving without Irena. She didn’t dare. Since Irena was more than a little inclined to attract trouble, it naturally fell to Suzette to stay with her, if only to see her home.
So she waited.
As chance would have it, Suzette hadn’t been forced to come face-to-face with the young man, Two Bears, again. Except for a few of the Indian spokesmen, none of the Indians were present at the party.
Instead, across the short distance of a small byway, the Indians celebrated in their encampment. Their dancing was drawing quite a crowd, and their noise was competing with Buffalo Bill Cody’s own party. Even now, though an orchestra played in the background of Cody’s elegant tent reception, Suzette could hear the beat of those American Indian drums, as well as the voices raised in song.
Would he be singing along with the others? Would he be dancing? Unfortunately for Suzette, she had no trouble conjuring up his image; she could practically see his near-naked body swaying to the primitive beat of those drums. Try though she might, she could not put the mental image away from her.
She shook her head as though to dislodge the concept—she even wandered as far away from the sound of those drums as Buffalo Bill’s tent would allow—but reason seemed to desert her. His handsome countenance was etched prominently within her mind.
He was tall, she recalled, perhaps standing six feet in his moccasins. He had been scantily clothed, as well. A breechcloth, moccasins, some jewelry and a headdress with eagle feathers had been all that adorned his body. Those feathers had cascaded down his back, almost to the ground, an interesting sight.
A looping necklace, similar in construction to a breastplate, had hidden the complete view of a tanned, athletic chest. The hint of firm muscles and pure masculinity beneath the jewelry had been enough to cause Suzette speculation. Indeed, the mere thought of the man now caused her pulse to race. Why?
Suzette had been reared in an environment of art and drama. There, the changing of clothes often necessitated nudity. So commonplace was it, Suzette took the sight of a near-nude body in stride. Or at least she had done so until today.
Today, the sight of a young man’s muscled chest and bare thighs had made her feel more than a little giddy. If she were to be truthful, she would have to admit that when they had first met, she had itched to touch his skin. This made no sense to her.
He was only a man, not unlike any other man. Two eyes, two legs, two arms, a chest, a naked back. Nothing unusual.
Of course, unlike so many opera celebrities, this particular young man was put together rather well, and in all the right places. True, his face was pleasing to the eye, rugged without being harsh. Perhaps it was this that kept his image haunting her. But it seemed to her that there was more to it than this. There had been a quality about him…
Pride. That was what it was. If she had to put a word to his demeanor, she would have to call him dignified, although he was perhaps slightly naive as well. At least he had been so about English peculiarities and manners.
Suzette sighed. What wasted thoughts. He was married, and she was betrothed. Betrothed to an earl.
Clearly, the man meant nothing to her, except perhaps as an inconvenience. Where was Irena?
Scanning the crowd for a glimpse of her grandmother, Suzette decided it was time to bring the evening to a close. She and Irena should go to the home that Suzette, her parents and Irena all shared. She yearned for some rest.
Ah, there was her grandmother. Suzette’s gaze alighted on a particular dark coiffure, one with delicate curls tied in back that bounced ever so slightly whenever the woman laughed, which was often. With her hourglass figure looking stunning in blue taffeta, and a blue silk handkerchief dangling from her gloved hands, she could have been a model for a French fashion plate.
From where Suzette stood, she could see Irena was cuddling up to Buffalo Bill, who was close beside her. Indeed, his face was turned in full toward her, and Suzette could see
he bore the look of… What was that? Admiration? Attraction?
Oh dear, that was what it looked like. Worse, was there a sensuality between Irena and the man?
Rumors of Buffalo Bill’s reputation with women, and in particular women of the arts, drifted through Suzette’s recollections. She could only wonder if Irena had admitted her real age to the man. Irena had to be at least ten to fifteen years his senior.
Suzette sighed. Perhaps she should have sought out Irena before now. She only hoped no permanent damage had been done. The last thing she needed was for Irena to believe herself in love.
Gracefully, Suzette made her way through the crowd toward her grandmother. At the moment, Irena was laughing up at Buffalo Bill, and because there was a flirtatious light in Irena’s eyes, it was all Suzette could do not to pull her grandmother away from the man. Why did she feel at times as though she were the older of the two of them?
Gently, she touched Irena’s hand. “May I speak with you if you please?”
“Of course, darling.” Irena turned her gaze on Suzette. “What is it, dear?”
Suzette grimaced. Apparently, she was not to have a private audience with her grandmother. “I am tired and would like to go home.”
“Of course, dear, and we shall do so very soon. This is my granddaughter, Mr. Cody.”
“A pleasure.” Suzette nodded toward him but barely spared him a glance.
“The pleasure is all mine.” Cody bowed slightly from the hip.
After a brief nod at Cody, she asked Irena, “Are you ready to return home?”
“Almost, dear. Almost. Mr. Cody, might I ask a favor?”
“Of course, Irena. Anything.”
“Do you have a private location where my granddaughter might retire until you and I are finished with our business?”
“Naturally, I do,” said Cody. “My own quarters are stationed in back of this tent.”
“Perfect,” voiced Irena.
“I have no need for privacy,” murmured Suzette. “We will be going home soon.”
