by Karen Kay
“Yes, yes, dear, of course. But I have a matter of some business with Mr. Cody, and there is no need to bore you with it.”
“I do not believe I would be bored,” uttered Suzette. “Please tell me.”
Yet Irena was not to be coerced into revealing even the slightest detail of her business to Suzette. In fact, with a smooth smile and a quietly spoken, “Would you excuse us, please?” Irena took hold of Suzette’s arm and calmly ushered her away.
“By all means.” Buffalo Bill nodded as they left. “My personal tent is that way, ladies.” He pointed out the direction.
“Thank you, Mr. Cody.” Irena smiled, and the two women took their leave.
“Irena,” asked Suzette as soon as they were out of earshot. “What do you mean business with Mr. Cody? I don’t—”
“A moment, Suzie. Let us attain a more private place. One where we can talk.”
“Very well. But business…? I don’t understand. What possible business could you have with Mr. Cody? And though I did wish to speak to you alone, I did not realize we needed privacy.”
“Yes. We do.”
“Hmm,” said Suzette. “This sounds as though it might not be to my liking.”
“We shall see.”
Buffalo Bill Cody’s quarters, it turned out, were comprised of a rather large tent, which was guarded by a few burly-looking cowboys.
“This way.” Irena shot a smile to each cowhand in turn. One of them opened the tent flap for the women.
“Do you know those men?” asked Suzette.
“Hardly,” said Irena.
They had entered a large area with cozy armchairs and a sofa. Although the scent of a gaslight perfumed the place, the air seemed fresher in here than outside the tent, where the atmosphere reeked of horseflesh and smoke. On the floor of the room were lush rugs. In the room’s corners, scattered here and there, were testaments to the Wild West—a buffalo robe, a quiver full of arrows, a wampum belt.
“Come, Suzie. Let us sit and talk.”
Suzette nodded and took her seat on a large, red and rather comfortable chair. Irena sat across from her.
“I am working over some business with Mr. Cody,” Irena explained.
“Yes, that much I have heard you say. But pray, what kind of business?” Suzette frowned.
“If you must know, I am thinking about joining the show.”
For a moment, Suzette was speechless. “Joining the show? You mean…traveling with them?”
Irena nodded.
“Leaving here?”
“Yes.”
“But why?”
Irena fiddled with a button on her dress. “Because, the show is due to go back to America as soon as their performance here is done. And there is something I need to find…in America.”
Suzette gulped. “In America?”
“Yes.”
“You startle me, Irena. Why is this the first time I am hearing of this? What is it that you need to find?”
Irena shrugged but was silent.
“Would you not agree,” said Suzette, “that this is awfully strange…and sudden?”
“Perhaps it does seem that way to you, for I am only now mentioning it. But something is pulling me there and has been doing so for some time.”
“And what exactly is this that is pulling you there?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Could I not simply be looking for a little adventure?”
“Irena, this is me, your granddaughter. I know you. I am not fooled by your attempts to disconcert me.”
Irena frowned and slanted Suzette a glance. “Oh, very well. If you must know, I am looking for a particular person—someone I met when I was in America many years ago. I have never forgotten him.”
“Him? Are you trying to tell me…? Him? You are speaking as if you might be in love with…this man?”
Silence. Then, “Yes, I think I am.”
“Think? You do realize that if you go with this show, you would be changing your entire life?”
“Yes, I realize that.”
“And you are willing to do that?”
“I am. They leave tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow? But I am to be married in less than a month’s time. Could you not wait until after my marriage?”
“You have your mother and father to help you, darling. They will see you through the difficult time.”
“A marriage is not a difficult time. It is an enlightening and happy time. One I had hoped to share with you.”
“I know you did, dear. I know. I am sorry to tell it to you like this, but I have to go with the show. There are other reasons why this is so.”
“Other reasons?” Suzette rose to her feet, pacing toward one of the room’s corners. “Other reasons? You must realize I cannot let you go without knowing exactly what these reasons are.”
Irena sighed yet again. “Can a person not have a secret?”
“Not with her granddaughter, she can’t.”
“Oh, very well. But you must give me your promise that you will not relate this to a soul, not even to your mother or father.”
“I cannot in all honesty give you a—”
“Suzie…”
Reluctantly, Suzette nodded. After all, it wasn’t terribly difficult to give her word. She had always been closer to Irena than to her own parents. “All right. I promise.”
“Good. If you must know, the man I seek is an American Indian.”
Suzette raised an eyebrow. “An American Indian?”
“I met him in Washington, D.C., at the White House, when I was there to perform for the President. Oh, it was years ago, I admit. I was much younger then. But he was…handsome. He was such an honorable man, placing the welfare of his tribe before his own needs, and we… I didn’t mean to fall in love with him, but it had been so long since there had been a man in my life, your grandfather having died much too early.”
“I understand. I think.”
“I did not even know I was in love with him until it was too late. By the time I realized it, he was gone. I did try to find him, but no one seemed to remember him, and his name I could not pronounce, nor did I know the translation for it.” She grimaced. “I tried again to find him, that time a few years ago, when I sailed to the United States. These searches, however, proved useless.”
“What makes you think you will have better luck now?”
“Suzie,” Irena began, her voice breathless, “there is someone here who reminds me of the man I fell in love with. Their likeness is uncanny. As though it could have been my own love as he was as a youth.”
“Huh! That seems to me to be very little to go on.”
“You are right, it is not much. But it is exciting nonetheless, and at my age, I think I can be forgiven for trying once more to recover my love.”
“Oh.” A silence fell between the two women. “Still,” said Suzette at length, “to travel with this show. Isn’t that unnecessary? Why not hire this young man who reminds you so much of the one you seek? Why not ask him to help you?”
“Do you think I have not tried?”
“And what happened?”
“Firstly, he would not be bought, at least not by a woman. Secondly, it appears that he is, himself, on a quest of his own.”
“Then hire someone else to find this man. Would it not be better than chasing after someone who… Pray, forgive me, Irena, but if this man had wanted to be with you, would he not be trying to find you?”
“Would he? He, too, seemed to be involved in a deed of some importance. And besides, if my instincts are right, I think this young man, the one I have only met tonight, will lead me to the one I seek. I feel it, Suzie. I feel it is right.”
“But to give up everything because of a mere instinct…”
Irena smiled. “Perhaps when you reach my age
, you will understand why it is necessary.”
A lengthy silence ensued. At last, Suzette said, “All right. If you are determined to do this, then I cannot and will not stand in your way. But I will ask one favor of you.”
“Yes?”
“You must take someone with you. A maid, a bodyguard. You must hire someone to look after you and be as a guard for you.”
Irena hesitated. “I could do this. Yes, I could do this. Perhaps this young man…” She frowned. Clearly, an idea had suddenly occurred to her.
“And you will? You promise?”
“I promise.”
“Very well, then,” said Suzette, with a long look at her grandmother. “But I will miss you.”
“And I will miss you.”
Chapter Five
Lady Blair, the Earl of Lankersheim’s mother, was a woman of some weight. Both socially and literally. At five foot two and weighing perhaps two hundred and fifty pounds, her small frame was inclined to teeter beneath the extra poundage. But here any impression of frailness ended, superseded by the lady’s voice, which was moderately pitched but coarse and loud.
Suzette had always gotten on well with the woman and found her visits with Lady Blair enjoyable. There was no reason to suspect this particular call would prove to be any different.
With William at her side, Suzette swept into the parlor and smiled cheerily at the lady. “Lady Blair,” she said, with a dainty curtsy. “How happy I am to see you again.”
“And I you. Please, will you not be seated?” Lady Blair gestured toward a chair, where Suzette obliged her by gracefully descending into it. “William, please fetch one of the servants. I think tea and crumpets are in order.”
“Of course.” William left at once to do her bidding.
Happily, Suzette gave her attention over completely to her future mother-in-law. Clutching her stylish pink-and-white parasol, Suzette favored Lady Blair with a sweet smile. “William tells me you have some last-minute details for the wedding party you wish to discuss with me. Some fear you wish me to allay.”
“That I do.”
Suzette’s smile widened, her pleasure apparent. And with reason. In only a few days, she too would bear the title of Lady Blair. “Then, pray tell me your concerns, and I will be more than delighted to allay your fears. Need I tell you that the arrangements are all in order? All is as it should be. My trousseau is organized, and the bridesmaids’ dresses are finished, and oh, they are so beautiful. The church is reserved for the occasion, and of course my parents have made my settlement ready to be available upon the day we say our vows.” She perched forward on her chair. “But I understand there are a few details I must attend to with you.”
“Yes, dear, so there are.” Lady Blair pursed her full lips as she sat forward. Although her face was red as though she were angry, this was hardly reason for concern since the lady’s face was often flushed. “Countess Bishop has related to me,” drawled Lady Blair, “a most dreadful particular, I am afraid.”
“Oh?”
“Yes, I fear it is regarding your dear grandmother, child.”
“Yes.” Suzette’s smile faded a little. “She will not be in attendance at the wedding, for she is en route to America. But it is not so dreadful after all. My parents and aunts and uncles will be at the wedding to ensure all goes well.”
“It is not her traveling to America that I find objectionable,” said Lady Blair. “Rather, it is with whom she is traveling that is the point in question.”
“Whom? What do you mean?”
“What I mean, dear girl, is it has come to my attention that your grandmother is touring with a circus.”
“Oh, no. No, no, no. She is not accompanying a circus. No, indeed.” Suzette frowned. “From where did you glean such information?”
“From Countess Bishop herself.”
“Oh,” said Suzette, puzzled, but only momentarily. She brightened. “Well, I am glad you have brought this to my notice so I might be able to impart to you the particulars concerning Iren—my grandmother. The facts are that she has been engaged by Mr. William Cody of the Wild West Show. It is her honor to sing at the receptions that Mr. Cody presents after each engagement. In point of fact, it is quite a privilege, for she has now entertained such people as the Queen of England, the Duchess of Kent, and many, many others, including members of state and of course presidents.” Suzette’s eyes glowed with pride over Irena’s accomplishments.
“The Wild West Show, you say?”
“Yes, that is correct.” A slight frown pulled at her brow. Was it her imagination or did Lady Blair’s voice hold a note of censure?
“Now to the point,” said Lady Blair. “It is with a heavy heart, my dear girl, that I must inform you I can no longer countenance your marriage to my son.”
Suzette paused as the air gradually left her lungs. Surely Lady Blair was jesting. Suzette took a breath. “I beg your pardon?”
“A Wild West show. Why, it is no more than a carnival, do you not agree?”
“A carnival?” Was that all that was bothering Lady Blair? “Oh, no,” said Suzette at once, “let me explain, for I think you misunderstand. While carnivals are, indeed, establishments of ill repute, this particular Wild West show is no carnival. It is of the best possible entertainment and has even been attended by the Queen herself, as well as princesses and other royalty.”
“But, dear, their majesties often attend carnivals, do they not?”
“I… I…” Suzette stopped as words deserted her. Perhaps this was more serious than she had first realized.
“Now I am aware,” Lady Blair continued, looking as satisfied as a cat with a mouse, “that we will need to compensate you for the breach in contract, but there is nothing else for it. It must be done. You must see this.”
“Breach in contract? But—”
“Perhaps I should meet with your parents so the proper arrangements can be made.”
“But the preparations for the wedding have all been made. The church is reserved. The guests are invited, the bridesmaids’ dresses are done, the reception is set, the breakfast…” Her voice faded away.
“It is to be regretted, it is true. But we shall recompense you.”
“Regretted? Recompense?”
“Yes, dear.”
Suzette swallowed with some difficulty. For many moments, she was quiet as one thought followed upon another. “Does William know you intend this?”
When Lady Blair didn’t answer at once, Suzette persisted. “Did he have knowledge of this when he brought me here?”
“Yes, child. He did.”
“But he did not say a word to me about it.”
“I asked him not to utter a thing to you, for I believed it would be better that I speak to you about it personally.”
“Better for whom?” Suzette asked. “Better for me? I am not certain I agree with you about that.”
“I understand. You are upset. It is to be expected. But, then, we are not asking for your agreement, are we?”
For the first time since Lady Blair had delivered this fait accompli, Suzette raised her gaze to meet that of her elder. What she saw there was startling.
Had Lady Blair’s eyes always held a glimmer of spite? Was the flush that was almost constantly upon her cheeks more than a sign of ill health? Had her demeanor always been so arrogant? The tilt of her chin so haughty that she appeared to be sniffing something distasteful?
Fleetingly, Irena’s words of caution drifted through Suzette’s mind: He is ruled by his mother.
It is said that love is blind. Perhaps the saying was true. But if this were so, then she had been blinded not only by William, but by his mother as well.
She said, “You are wrong, Lady Blair. My grandmother is an upstanding woman. I am proud she is touring with the Wild West Show, and I am delighted that she is able to pr
ovide entertainment that is moral and honorable.”
“I see.” Lady Blair’s mouth tightened. “Do you seek to contradict me in this, then?”
“Yes. I fear I must.”
Lady Blair raised the angle of her chin until she was practically staring down her nose at Suzette. Only then did she say, “Do you know who I am?” Her double chins quivered as she spoke.
“Oh, yes.” Suzette rose to her feet. “Indeed, I do. I now know who you really are. And for the first time in my acquaintance with you, Lady Blair, I am displeased with what I find.”
Lady Blair’s true character at last found outlet, and she pounded her hands on the arms of her chair as though it were the personage of the one who stood before her. “Of all the impertinence! I will not be spoken to in this—”
“Pray do excuse me,” Suzette interrupted, “for I am certain you can have nothing more to say to me. And I, for my part, have nothing more to say to you.”
“Do be seated, girl. Though there might be cause for your anger, I am not so savage that I will not send for a servant to escort you back to your home.” Lady Blair’s anger found vent in a pretense of sweet sympathy.
“No, thank you. And do not bother with a servant, for I will seek out William. He will escort me.”
“Why, my dear girl, that would be most unbecoming of you. Now that the engagement is broken, the two of you must not be alone together. I would not think of it.”
“Still, I would like a word with William in private, thank you very much.”
With nothing more than an urgent need to escape Lady Blair’s presence, Suzette swept out of the room, finding William cowering on the opposite side of the door.
“Ah,” she said. How much of their conversation had he overheard? And why had he not been there to champion her? “There you are. I believe we have some matters to discuss. If you will accompany me to my home, let us put these things in order.”
That William shot an inquiring look toward his mother did not escape Suzette’s notice. However, she was not about to give mother and son a chance to conspire.
“Do come along,” Suzette said, taking hold of his arm, “for I have only recently become aware of a problem of some concern that I must divulge to you. I fear there is nothing else for it but for us to talk.”
