The Vaudeville Star (4 page)

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Dinner is served at five. I know some of you folks are in the theater, so I’ll place a bit of food away, but there’s no guarantee. Dinner is usually stew with cornbread. Something hardy that will stick to the stomach.”

Ruby nodded as they walked along the hallway.

“Each room contains a bed, dresser, table, and chair. There is a basin and pitcher for water, and the bathroom is at the end of the hall.”

She opened the door to the room, and they stepped inside. The room was at the end of the hall and was larger than the other rooms as it curved outward with a large window seat that overlooked the street. It was a charming little room.

“I run a respectable house here,” Mrs. Hodges continued. “We have a full house and that includes men and women under this roof. If you decide to conduct yourself as anything less than respectable, you will be asked to leave. If you have a gentleman caller, you have him wait downstairs in the parlor and meet him there.”

“I understand, but I don’t know anyone in New York besides my cousins,” Ruby said, smiling.

Mrs. Hodges looked Ruby up and down and sighed. “My room is downstairs at the back of the house. My husband, Mr. Hodges, is quite ill, so you won’t see him often except at dinner. You can settle the first week’s lodging with me later this evening.”

Ruby moved to the window seat and brushed back the curtains. She smiled as she unpinned her hat and looked out onto the street. The boardinghouse was on a smaller side street, and opposite her room was a grocery and candy shop. There was a young man looking up at the building who looked vaguely familiar, but she knew that wasn’t possible as she had met no one.

“It’s a good room, Ruby. The best one on this floor.” Bessie joined her at the window.

“I am so grateful to you, Bessie. I really am. You have been so kind to me,” she told her new friend.

“Stop all this now,” Bessie implored her. “I’m happy to help. And tomorrow you’ll meet everyone, and we’ll see what Vern says.”

Ruby nodded, and when Bessie left, she placed her suitcase on the bed and began unpacking. There was a cool breeze in the air, and she suddenly smiled. She had set out to chase her dreams, and now she was here in New York with it all just within her grasp.

* * *

F
ord settled
into the downstairs parlor, waiting for his family to rise for the morning. He had spent time in Boston visiting Pietro and Lily after he had given the news to Ruby about her father’s death. He and Pietro remained on good terms, and Ford had joined the Pinkerton Detective Agency after meeting him.

The plantation he would inherit from his father was well run, and he had felt idle. After the trip to Europe, he had decided to join the agency and had seen much and enjoyed the action.

“There you are, my darling. How was Boston?” Faylene Rutledge entered the parlor with her arms outstretched. “When did you arrive home? I didn’t hear a carriage.”

He was enveloped in her arms, and the strong scent of lilac, which she always wore, surrounded them.

“Last night, Momma.”

She called out to their housemaid to bring coffee just as Marshall entered.

“Hello, Father,” he said as the two shook hands.

“Ford, my boy.”

Marshall immediately lit a cigar and looked his son over. “Well, apparently that agency is doing well for you. You look fit as a fiddle.”

Ford smiled. “I enjoy the work. Though it’s not as exciting as most people think, not by a long shot.”

Faylene balanced herself on the edge of the chair while her husband paced the room. From outside the parlor, they heard someone bounding down the stairs, and soon enough Jessbelle was inside the room in a blur of pink and white.

“Ford!” She threw herself at him amid tears, and a handkerchief, which seemed to appear out of nowhere, was suddenly in her hand. “I did miss you!”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Jessbelle. Calm yourself! Ford was only in Boston, not fighting in the Spanish-American War!” her mother admonished her.

Ford kissed his sister’s hand as Marshall smiled.

“Don’t be so harsh, Faylene. Your daughter adores her brother. That’s as it should be.”

“I did miss you, Ford,” Jess said with her eyes wide.

“And I missed you, brat.” He smiled.

His decision to join the agency had not been a rash one, and he had been assigned several small cases but also several important ones. Much like Pietro, he made a name for himself as a trustworthy and conscientious detective. He followed the rules and always performed exactly as expected.

One particularly high-profile case had taken place in New York, in which he and another detective were hired to protect a priceless diamond tiara owned by the Astor family. A well-known jewel thief had his sights set on the “Astor Tiara,” and Ford had helped bring the thief to justice while also keeping the Astor family happy.

He became a known name in the influential upper classes, and his services were requested again and again. He had relocated to New York and worked with a variety of different people. The agency now had two thousand active agents with offices throughout the United States, and Ford had become an integral part of the machine.

When he returned home to visit with his family, he left behind a team of fellow detectives who viewed him as a brother and member of their esteemed group.

Ford looked around the plantation home and saw that nothing had changed. Antebellum Plantation was run by servants and paid workers who lived at the back of the property in small cabins. Many of them had been with the plantation their entire lives. Several families left when the Emancipation Proclamation was declared, but just as many had stayed.

The Rutledge family always treated their people fairly, so that as the South changed, many families remained with them. They were given fair wages for their work and treated decently. As such, their production was high and their workers not unhappy. Ozella, their cook, had been at the plantation Ford’s entire life and his mother’s ladies’ maid at least fifteen years.

Ford looked across the parlor at his family and swelled with pride. He had not gone to New York to find himself and get away from his life here. He had wanted to see something of the world, and the agency had given him that opportunity.

He watched as his mother moved a stray curl back behind Jess’s ear while his father was talking to them about their neighbors.

“What did you say, Father?” Ford asked.

Marshall puffed on his cigar while Faylene looked at it with distaste.

“I said that with Earl now dead, Lucille and Pernetta are running their plantation all alone.”

Ford glanced up at his father. “All alone? Surely they have an overseer.”

Marshall shrugged. “You know how that woman is. Stubborn as a mule. I can’t help but think you were lucky not marrying into that family. Even if it would have doubled the size of our plantation.”

“How was Ruby when you saw her, Ford? Did she look well? When is she coming home?” Jessbelle asked one question after the other.

“She looked fine enough.” Ford answered, trying not to focus on the rush of desire as he recalled Ruby’s naked body entwined with his own.

“Did she say when she was coming home? Surely she should be home already,” Jessbelle persisted.

“We didn’t talk much about her plans, Jess.” He saw no reason to elaborate on Ruby’s crazy scheme to travel to New York and go onstage.

“Of course they didn’t,” Faylene interrupted. “Her Daddy died. She was distraught. Am I right, Ford?”

Ford could still see Ruby lying naked in the bed and in his arms. He coughed suddenly. “Yes Momma. That’s right.”

Faylene turned to her daughter. “Stop pestering your brother with all your questions, Jess.”

“No, Momma, it’s fine. I just don’t have that much to add.”

Ford remembered Ruby’s words and wondered where she was. He must send a telegram. He needed to know she was safe. He should have gone himself, but she would have spotted him. At least she was not alone.

“Do you think Lucille and Pernetta will be able to run the plantation alone, Marshall?” Faylene asked.

“I truly don’t know. That Lucille is determined. I’ll say that much for her. I don’t see why not.”

“I suppose I must send another card to convey our sympathies. I believe I did when Earl died, but she never responded,” Faylene said to no one in particular. “I’ll invite them for tea or lemonade.”

“Of course she didn’t respond, Momma! Her youngest daughter was caught in the watering hole with your son whilst her eldest daughter was supposed to be marrying him. They hate us!”

“Hush your mouth, Jess,” Faylene said, shaking her head. “My goodness, Marshall! Where does this child get her sassiness from? I honestly couldn’t say.”

* * *

L
ucille and Pernetta Sutton
entered the parlor in a swish of silk gowns. Faylene welcomed them and asked the ladies to sit down. A maid entered with a tray of lemonade and freshly baked miniature cakes and placed it in front of them.

“Lucille, I wanted to tell you in person how sorry I was for your loss. Earl was such a fine man,” she said softly. “We didn’t get to speak at the funeral.”

“Yes, he was. And of course we received your note and flowers, but I have been rushed off my feet. Running the plantation and looking after Pernetta,” Lucille responded.

“Of course you were. I understand,” Faylene said, leaning over to pour several glasses of lemonade.

She handed one glass to Lucille, who took it in her gloved hand, and then handed the next to Pernetta, who took a sip and then immediately excused herself to get some air.

“I’m sure you’ll be pleased to have Ruby back home. Ford didn’t say much about his trip to Connecticut, but I’m sure she’ll be home shortly.” Faylene smiled.

“Honestly, Faylene, I’m not so sure about that,” Lucille said, eyeing the room around her. “I love my family—God knows I do. But that girl has been a burr under my saddle since the day she was born. That is the truth. And I can’t help but wish she would stay in Connecticut. I really do.”

* * *

“
H
ello
, Ford.”

Ford turned to see Pernetta standing behind him on the veranda. Her wavy brown hair was pinned at her neck, and there was a flush on her cheeks. She wore a yellow dress that did not enhance her coloring nor her flat bosom.

“Hello, Pernetta.” He nodded to her.

She moved to stand beside him, and together they looked out over the vast cotton fields that belonged to the Rutledge family. She removed a handkerchief from her skirt pocket and dabbed at her face.

“You broke the news to Ruby about Daddy. I’m sorry you had to go. A telegram or letter would have sufficed,” Pernetta said.

“A telegram would have sufficed to tell a young girl her father is dead?” Ford asked quietly.

She dabbed at her face and then at her eyes, suddenly filled with tears. “She’s a harlot, Ford! I’ll never forgive her for ruining our engagement party and throwing herself at you like that! She’s nothing but a common tramp!”

“How can you be so ungracious? She was a child! She was fifteen years old. She thought she was in love.”