by Kari Bovee
“Oh, like the esteemed writer—charmed. Don’t stray too far, Mr. Chaucer. I have a feeling I’m going to be thirsty.”
The butler nodded to her and offered Annie and Frank champagne. Frank obliged, but Annie held up her hand, declining. She wanted to apologize for Emma’s boldness, but knew it really wasn’t her place.
Mrs. Langtry entered from one of the rooms at the same time Oscar Wilde was let in the door. He handed the butler his knee-length, fur-collared cape to reveal a burgundy coat trimmed with ivory piping. He wore matching velvet pants that gathered at the knee and were tucked into knee-length brown leather gaiters. His tie, of white silk, was knotted into a large bow that draped down his chest.
He and Mrs. Langtry exchanged air kisses and then greeted Annie, Frank, and Emma.
“Oh, I am delighted that we are all here,” said Mrs. Langtry as she and Mr. Wilde seated themselves on the other sofa. “I’ve been so eager to visit with you all again. I have a few more guests arriving, but I invited you early so we could chat. So tell me, how was the stay at the palace? We heard about Mr. Patel and that fine doctor.”
“The stay was excellent,” said Frank. “Cured what ailed me. The royal physician worked wonders.”
“So pleased you are feeling better, old chap,” said Mr. Wilde, reaching over and slapping Frank on the shoulder. He then rested his hand against Frank’s collar, a bit too long in Annie’s estimation, before he reached for a champagne glass.
Somewhere in the room a bell chimed, and the butler went to the door as the five of them chatted. He soon returned, and standing with his hands behind his back and his chest jutting forward, announced, “His Royal Highness, the Prince of Wales.”
Taking Mrs. Langtry and Mr. Wilde’s lead, they all stood when the prince entered. Annie was surprised at his casual dress. He wore a simple, dark wool suit, white shirt, and waistcoat. He carried a hat in his hand, and gave it to the butler.
“Darling,” said Mrs. Langtry as she went to greet him. She threw her arms around him and gave him a lingering kiss on the lips. Annie turned away, annoyed at the display. She wanted to ask after the whereabouts of the princess but refrained.
Mrs. Langtry and the prince squeezed in on the sofa next to Mr. Wilde, the prince’s hand resting on Mrs. Langtry’s knee.
“We were just discussing Mr. Butler and Miss Oakley’s stay at the palace—and all the mischief that happened while they were there.”
“Terrible business,” said the prince. “You are all well, I suppose? Kept out of danger?”
“Yes, Your Majesty, for the moment. But I fear the queen is not, nor is my sister.”
Annie, Frank, and Emma explained what had transpired since they embarked on their journey.
“So the killer is still at large,” said the prince.
“Yes, but I have an idea how to draw him out,” said Annie. “I will need cooperation from the palace—and the colonel and Mr. Salisbury of course. And what I tell you may not leave this room. No one must know, not even our closest companions.”
“Goodness, how cryptic,” said Mr. Wilde.
Annie turned to Emma. “I will also need you to enlist some of your friends at the London Times.”
“Anything for you, dear.” Emma said, raising her glass.
“Well, do tell, Miss Oakley,” said the prince leaning forward. “The suspense is killing me.”
Chapter Thirty
Annie and Buck sat at the gate, waiting to go on for the three-o’clock performance. For two days, she and the rest of the players and crew had rehearsed their acts to perfection and were ready to perform for the queen. Even Lillie put in her best effort and hadn’t had a drop of whiskey since Annie had confided in her about Hulda.
The colonel, Chief Red Shirt, and Chief Black Elk got the crowd of ten thousand roused up for a good time.
Frank, waiting with her at the gate, told her the queen had arrived in a covered carriage, to great fanfare in the streets, and was brought into the American Exhibition arena through a back entrance and seated in her box. A small party accompanied her, including the prince and princess, Mrs. Langtry, Mr. Wilde, and Emma, as well as attendant servants to the royal party.
“And where is Hulda?” Annie asked.
“She’s with Miss Tessen and Mr. Post in the paddock area, waiting for you to finish.”
As the colonel and his crew finished with their act and thundered out the gates, Annie heard the announcer call her name.
“And now, America’s little darling, the best sharpshooter and all-around cowgirl, the petite, the daring, and the wildly famous Miss Annie Oakley and Buck the Wonder Horse!”
“Go get ’em.” Frank slapped Annie on the thigh.
“Let’s hope this works,” she said.
She cued Buck and they raced into the arena. As she always started her act, she shot her pistol into the air a couple of times as Buck raced around the outskirts of the mounted tripod course. As she passed by the queen’s box, she waved to the party, including the queen in her customary black dress and the veil that routinely covered her face when she was in public.
Annie managed the first ten obstacles with ease, her body in sync with Buck’s as they sped through the turns and serpentines. When she’d shot her last bullet, she holstered her pistols and pulled her rifle out of the scabbard. She finished the course, and raced to the queen’s box where she brought Buck to a sliding stop, and he raised himself up in a rear.
Mr. Post ran into the arena to get Buck. Lillie and Bobby accompanied him, rifle and pistols blazing.
As they set up for the card trick, a commotion at the other end of the arena got their attention. The gates had burst open, and a large group of men were running into the arena, shouting and shooting into the crowd. Some of them carried signs stating, “Shame on the Crown,” “Death to Gladstone,” and “Death to the Queen.” As two of them ran toward the queen’s box, Frank and Mr. Salisbury jumped into action and hurried the party out of the box.
Annie, her heart pounding with adrenaline, signaled Lillie and Bobby, and together, rifles drawn, faced down the men. The colonel, Red, Shirt, Black Elk, and several of the other cowboys and Indians entered the arena, trapping the group of men. Realizing they were outnumbered, they threw down their weapons. Within moments, the police had infiltrated the arena and, with the help of the cowboys, escorted the recalcitrant group out of the arena to uproarious applause from the crowd.
“What just happened?” Lillie asked, a look of confusion on her face. “Those men tried to kill the queen!”
The announcer’s voice rang through the air. “Ladies and gentlemen, please remain calm. The situation is in hand, but because of the circumstances, the rest of today’s performance will be cancelled.”
A collective groan rippled through the crowd, accompanied by some shouting and the waving of arms.
The announcer continued. “Tickets will be honored for the next several performances.”
With that, the people quieted and started filing out of the stadium.
“Annie figured out what was happening, and we put a stop to it.” Bobby’s voice rose an octave from the excitement. “I bet the queen will give us some kind of medal or something for saving her life.”
Annie, coming down from the rush of adrenaline, let her rifle drop.
“Don’t count on it Bobby,” she said. “That wasn’t the queen. She was a plant.”
“What are you talking about, Annie?” Lillie asked, perspiration dripping down the sides of her face. Her cheeks were pink from exertion.
“Emma, Mrs. Langtry, Mr. Wilde, and I came up with a plan to draw out Mr. Bhakta’s killer. Hopefully, one of the people in that group was associated with someone on our ship. The someone who wants the queen dead. They will be interrogated by the police. Hopefully, this time, it’s over.”
“But aren’t we going to perform for the queen?” asked Bobby. “I thought she invited us special.”
Annie took hold of Bobby’s shoulder. “We sure are
, Bobby. We are giving her a private performance tomorrow. Mr. Salisbury has it all worked out with the queen’s people.”
“I would have been real disappointed to not have performed for Her Majesty,” said Lillie. “Seasick for days for nothin’.”
“Me too. Now, let’s go get some rest so we are at our best for the queen tomorrow,” said Annie.
“One more day of no whiskey,” said Lillie, her expression downcast.
“It will be worth it,” said Bobby.
“I won’t have any either.”
Annie laughed, feeling lighter than she had for days.
After Annie had said her goodbyes to the impersonator queen and her party, and seen Buck comfortably bedded down in his stall for the evening, she, Frank, and Emma walked back to the tents together.
“How long do you think it will take to question the men?” Annie asked Emma. She wanted to make sure her plan had truly worked.
“It could be some days,” said Emma. “In these situations, people are reluctant to snitch on their friends or admit their guilt. They are trying to make a statement.”
“Let’s hope your plan worked, darling. I’m anxious to start enjoying this tour,” said Frank. Annie laughed, but stopped when she felt a twinge of pain in her belly.
“Annie, are you all right?” asked Emma.
The twinge gone, Annie waved her hand. “I’m fine. Just worn out from the excitement.”
“We can have a quiet night and get some rest,” said Frank. “I’m still a bit weary.”
“I told you, you needed to slow down,” said Annie.
“You did,” Frank said, giving Emma a sideways glance. Emma laughed, kissed them both good evening, and strolled toward her tent. When they reached theirs, Annie decided to check on Hulda in her tent. Frank said Bobby had walked her back.
“Hulda?” Annie called. “Lillie?”
She stepped inside and found the tent empty.
“She’s not here,” Annie said, stepping outside.
Frank had lit a cigar and pulled the smoke into his mouth. He let it out with a rush.
“She’s probably with Lillie in the mess tent. It’s about suppertime. Are you hungry?”
Annie put a hand to her stomach. She wasn’t sure if it was from all of the excitement, but she wasn’t hungry at all.
“I think I’ll lie down.”
“I can bring you something,” Frank said.
“Yes, that would be good. How about some bread?”
“That it?”
“Yes. I’ll make some tea. When you see Hulda, will you tell her to come see me? And make sure Lillie isn’t drinking.”
Frank lowered his cigar. “I’m not telling that girl what to do. She’s mean as a hellcat.”
Suddenly exhausted, Annie kissed Frank’s cheek and went inside. She took off her gun belt and gently draped it over the bedpost. She then made her way to the bed and flopped down onto it. Her head barely hit the pillow before she was fast asleep.
She didn’t know how long she’d slept when she felt Frank shaking her awake.
“Did Hulda come see you?” he asked.
“No. I guess I fell asleep. Have you not seen her?” Annie sat up, her head still groggy from sleep.
“I didn’t see her in the mess tent. I’ve looked everywhere.” Frank raised his hands in exasperation.
“How long have you been gone? How long was I asleep?” Annie stood up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She ran her hands through her hair, her mind starting to come back into focus. Hulda was missing.
“About an hour. I thought I could find her by now. Bobby and some of the cowboys are searching for her.”
“Frank, we have to find her. She could be in danger. That telegram!”
Frank took Annie by the shoulders. “Now, don’t get yourself worked up. We’ve likely lured out the killer, so just relax. You know how Hulda can be. She’s been giving you fits of late.”
Annie remembered all too well.
“Where’s Mr. Everett? She might be with him.”
“I’ve asked around. No one has seen him,” Frank said, reluctantly.
“Oh, God. What if they’ve run off together?” Annie’s heart started to pound. “I’ll kill him.” Another cramp seized her belly, but she ignored it.
“You are jumping to conclusions, Annie. You need to calm down.”
“Don’t tell me to calm down, Frank. I’m getting Buck. I’m going out looking for her.” She grabbed her gun belt off the bedpost and secured it around her waist.
“Not alone, you aren’t.” Frank went to one of their trunks and pulled out his gun belt.
When they went to the corrals to saddle up, they alerted Mr. Post and Miss Tessen to keep an eye out for Hulda. They also asked Mr. Post to tell the colonel and Mr. Salisbury she was missing. Frank instructed the cowboys to go out again, and to meet back at Earl’s Court at eight o’clock.
Annie and Frank searched the streets of London until half past eight. They rode through Green Park and Hyde Park, and past Trafalgar square, which was ominously quiet. When they came down Buckingham Street in front of the Mews, Frank halted his mount.
“We need to head back,” he said.
“I want to keep looking.” Annie urged Buck forward. Frank trotted his horse up to them and took hold of Annie’s rein, bringing Buck to a stop.
“Someone may have found her, Annie. We need to go back to find out.”
“What if they haven’t?” Exhausted and still feeling a little crampy, Annie couldn’t keep the sob out of her voice.
“If she isn’t there, we’ll have the colonel alert the police. They know the city much better than we do.”
Annie raised a shaking hand to her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. She didn’t want to go back. She wanted to keep looking, but Frank’s argument made sense. He always made sense.
“We’ll alert the police if she isn’t back?” she said, her voice coming out in a whine.
“Immediately,” said Frank. He laid a hand against her cheek. “We’ll find her, darling. I promise.”
When Annie and Frank arrived back to Earl’s Court, it was as Annie had feared. No sign of Hulda. Mr. Everett had joined the campaign to find her and said he would search the streets all night with a couple of the crewmembers so Annie and Frank could rest.
Annie lay in bed, staring at the nearly burned out candle, listening to Frank’s soft, consistent snore. The intermittent cramping she had felt the previous afternoon and throughout the evening had calmed. She figured her menses might be on its way, as she often felt like this before it happened.
Her mind reeled with questions of why Hulda was gone, and what would happen to her. She couldn’t get the words of the telegram out of her mind. Stop your investigations, or your sister will meet the same fate as the doctor.
Frank tried to soothe her by telling her Hulda may have just gone off exploring and gotten lost. Could he be right? Had she decided to go walking in the city and gotten turned around in the maze of narrow streets? Could she have tried to find the port to get on a steamer and go home? Was she hurt, or hungry? Had someone harmed her?
Frank reasoned that Hulda had gone off on her own before, during their stay at the palace. The police would find her, he said. She would be fine.
The candle, burned down to the nub, sputtered and went out. From the faint, gray light glowing on the tent wall, Annie guessed it to be early morning. She flopped over onto her other side, facing Frank. He slept with his mouth open, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm.
Annie closed her eyes, willing herself to rest before she had to rise. The queen’s private performance would take place at half past ten in the morning, before the crowds became a crush at Earl’s Court with all of the visitors coming to see the Expo.
She had tried to persuade the colonel to postpone the engagement, but he’d received word that the queen’s hectic agenda would not allow for a change of schedule. Nor would Her Majesty be swayed by an alleged assassinati
on attempt. She was counting on seeing the “two clever female marksmen.”
According to Mr. Salisbury, the palace official quoted the queen as saying, “I’ve been shot at before, and I’ll be shot at again. I’ll not let fear rule my life.”
The colonel assured Annie he would send out the performers after their act to search for Hulda.
As much as she wanted to get up and start combing the streets of London again, she would comply with the colonel’s wishes to go on.
Annie flipped over onto her other side again and stared at the pool of wax the candle had left in the lantern. The words of the telegram, as if imprinted on the back of her eyelids, came into her mind again. Good is the passive that obeys Reason. Evil is the active springing from Energy. Another quote from Blake’s Marriage of Heaven and Hell. Someday, she would read the bloody thing, as Emma had referred to it, to try to understand the reasoning behind the madness it prompted in the killer. Right now, in her current state of mind—none of it made sense at all.
At ten o’clock that morning, Miss Tessen helped Annie to mount. Buck had been brushed to gleaming, and his mane and tail shone like dark pools of water in the moonlight. Annie checked her gun belt, securing it low on her hips, and pulled one of the pistols out to make sure it had been loaded.
“Miss Tessen, there are some bullets missing here. Would you hand me the other set of pistols?”
Miss Tessen took the two pistols from Annie and went to Annie’s tack trunk and pulled out two more—the first pistols she’d ever owned—a gift from Frank before her very first show. It seemed fitting to use these pistols for a performance for the queen. Annie took them from her and secured them in the holsters.
Miss Tessen checked the rifle and then loaded it into the scabbard while Annie swung her leg over the saddle horn to make the process easier.
“You all set, Annie?” Mr. Post ambled over to them, followed by Frank.
“I think so,” Annie said. “Miss Tessen has done a fine job of cleaning my tack and making Buck look his best.”
She wished she could sound more appreciative, but her mind was heavy with worry about Hulda. Mr. Post, perfectionist that he was, looked everything over. He checked the saddle’s girth for snugness, ran his hands over the leather and silver, looking for dust, and picked up each of Buck’s feet, to make sure no pebbles or grit had lodged in the tender frogs of his hooves.
