Wildblossom (46 page)

"I'm not sure that I want to exploit Geoff's title that way, sir."

"Well, I'm afraid the damage has been done. This write-up goes on and on about the show and your tricks and talents, and tells how you're from Cody, and how you and the duke met while he was out there last year."

"You know that I'm terribly proud of my part with the Wild West Show, Colonel Cody, but there is something about the tone of this article that is demeaning to me and to Geoff, as well as the show. There is a great deal more to our history together, and to me as a person, than this."

Viv put a hand on her shoulder. "Yes, and everyone who knows or meets you is aware of that."

Shelby tried to calm herself, but it was difficult not to overreact. "I wanted people to meet me in a more proper setting before the engagement was announced this way, so that if they saw an article like this one, they'd understand that this is only a part of who I am." She sighed and shook her head. "It's just that there are so many Americans in London right now, trying to force or buy their way into Society, and they give all of us a bad name."

Cody shrugged. "Everybody wants to be a duchess like Consuelo Vanderbilt."

"Or you, Shel," Ben interjected.

"Why don't you go back to your tent and have a glass of water and calm down," Colonel Cody suggested. "In fact, take the rest of the morning off, little girl." He wrapped an arm around her. "The newspapers are fickle. Tomorrow they'll be after somebody else."

Riding her bicycle back to the camp village alongside Viv, Shelby fretted, "If only Geoff's mother weren't such a snob! She told me that I would ruin their good name if I didn't drop out of the show immediately and come to live with her so that she could work to improve my reputation. And now, when she sees the newspapers, she'll be unbearable!"

"It doesn't matter, Shelby. Geoff won't care."

"I know, but I want him to be proud of me... not feel embarrassed if his friends see us together!"

"He'd never feel embarrassed about you, but we'll think of something. You're brilliant when it comes to problems like these!"

Shelby nodded, but there was a little crease between her eyebrows that would not go away, even after she'd had a cup of tea with lemon.

Geoff's reaction to all the fuss was to take Shelby riding with him in Rotten Row the next morning, insisting that he was relieved to have the entire matter out in the open. She looked lovely in a stylish green and black habit, but rode Gadabout in spite of Ben's suggestion that she take a more elegant horse.

"I seem to be of two minds," Shelby admitted to Geoff as they trotted among other riders and carriages. "I want everyone to admit that I am every bit elegant enough to marry you, but on the other hand, I want to be myself. When Ben told me that Gadabout wasn't fine enough because she's a pinto pony, I felt horribly stubborn."

"I wish you would stop worrying about all this nonsense. It's not as if anyone's opinion can harm us." Geoff reached for her gloved hand.

Just then the members of the Four-in-Hand Club rumbled by in their horse-drawn coaches, holding fast to the old ways against the encroachment of the automobile. Geoff greeted some of the men; others stared openly at Shelby.

Her cheeks were burning when she said, "Geoff? I wanted to tell you that I've decided to leave the Wild West Show."

"What? Not on my account, I hope."

"They're going to move the show to Manchester in the middle of April, and that gives me a perfect excuse to disengage. I... hate to admit it, but I think your mother may have been right." She sighed, her eyes shining. "A little bit, at least. If I'm going to be your duchess, I must begin to adapt. Visiting Sandhurst Manor, I began to realize that you and I have a legacy to carry on. I want to be a credit to your family."

"That's very sweet, darling, but—"

They were interrupted as a graceful curricle drew up beside them. Holding the reins was Consuelo, Duchess of Marlborough, accompanied by a maid and a groom. Slim and dark-eyed, she was the most famous of the now-titled American heiresses, the most beautiful, and the most haunting.

Geoff gallantly doffed his top hat and gave her a winning smile. "Good morning, Your Grace. May I present to you Miss Shelby Matthews? Shelby, this is Consuelo, Duchess of Marlborough."

"Let's dispense with these cumbersome titles, shall we?" Consuelo asked. She extended her hand to Shelby and smiled. "I had to meet you. Everyone's abuzz about the great love match."

"I'm surprised to hear it described so kindly," Shelby replied. She knew that it was a grand gesture on the duchess's part to have not only greeted them, but stopped to chat, and she expressed her appreciation.

"I will be honest with you." Consuelo gazed at her fellow American with great, liquid eyes. "I adore Geoffrey, so I'm a bit jealous, as are most of those women who are talking about you. But we have a common bond. When I saw your picture in the newspaper, I felt such sympathy for you." She turned to Geoff then. "It's not my place to intervene... but did you know that there is to be a reception at Devonshire House on the fourteenth of April? Louisa Cavendish told me that she intended to invite you both, but someone asked her to exclude you from the list."

"Who would do such a thing?" exclaimed Shelby.

Geoff exchanged glances with the young Duchess of Marlborough. "Let me guess. Could it be—my own dear mother?"

Chapter 22

"Everything is happening so quickly," Shelby murmured as she and Vivian shared their afternoon tea, sitting together on her cot. She'd just finished her performance for that day and still wore her dusty glen plaid bicycle costume. "Whenever I think about saying good-bye to everyone and not coming back to this tent ever again, I feel like crying."

Just those words made them both grow misty-eyed, then a little giddy. Viv handed her friend a lace-edged hankie, saying, "This tent may be awful, but it
has
been a happy home. We've entertained some colorful guests here! Remember the day the entire cowboy band came for tea?"

"At least two dozen of them—with their instruments!" Shelby exclaimed. "And then we made the mistake of inviting the Hawaiians and the Filipinos at the same time, and it turned out that they didn't get along!" Laughing, she fell over against Viv and said with feeling, "I'm so glad that you've agreed to come with me when I move to the Savoy. I should be lost without you."

Of course, it was Viv who would actually be lost if Shelby went off without her, but that went unsaid. Viv, in fact, kept a great deal to herself these days, not the least of which were her incessant nightmares about Bart. Sometimes she worried that she was going mad, dreaming of him all night long, sometimes screaming aloud and alarming Shelby. Just as terrifying were the visions that plagued her waking hours. Croll seemed to be lurking in every corner, peeking out at her from behind each light post or from passing hansom cabs.

Just when she'd talk herself out of it all, the memory of Manypenny's experience would return to bedevil her. He, too, had seen Bart staring from a hansom cab!

"Are you thinking about
him
again?" Shelby's tone was a crisp whisper. "You must stop, Viv! He is
dead!
Manypenny merely saw someone who resembled Bart, which could happen very easily in a city this size, with so many extraordinarily ugly people!"

"Yes, yes, of course you're right." Viv had begun breathing rapidly, like a child. "You always say just the right thing."

"Well, I know that you're punishing yourself with these fears because you feel guilty. At night, I share the terror of your dreams and only wish I could help you to know that you are good, honest, and blameless!"

"I
hate
him for forcing me to do such a horrible thing! It's not fair that he drove me to it, and now I will carry this burden for the rest of my life!" Her sweet, pale face crumpled. "I worry that this secret will always come between Charles and me...."

"Oh, Viv!" She gathered her near, searching for words of comfort. "I've been so glad for you, knowing that Charles has come into your life. He appears to be just the right sort of man—kind and caring and protective—"

"Yes! He's so gentle with me. He thinks I'm an angel!"

"Perhaps you should confide—"

"No. Never! No one must ever know. If he knew what I had done, he would turn from me in revulsion and never touch me again!" Tears streamed down her face. She pulled away from Shelby and stood up, wringing her hands. "Don't you see, I'm a
murderess!"

"
That's nonsense!"

"It's a fact!" Two of the Rough Riders were passing by, and they glanced into the tent at the sound of Vivian's raised voice. That was enough to cause her to sit down close to Shelby again, speaking softly. "You don't know... just how bad the things were that Bart did to me. And now, if Charles even attempts to embrace me in the most chaste fashion, I am overcome with panic. I am so afraid that he will lose patience with me."

"Oh, Viv, you mustn't fret so about this. I would try, no matter how difficult it may be, to explain at least a little about the reasons for your panic. Ask him to give you time to recover from your past. If you don't do this, Viv, Charles may worry that there is something wrong with
him!"

Her blue eyes widened. "Goodness, I never thought of that!"

"Why not talk to him the night of the ball? Wouldn't that be the perfect setting? And then, once you've shared a little of your secret with him, you may feel closer and safer than ever." Shelby's mouth widened into a playful smile that drew an answering blush from her friend. "That's what I like to see!"

"I still can't believe I'm going to the Duke and Duchess of Devonshire's ball," Viv said in wonder.

"Charles invited you to accompany him, so it's quite proper."

"Thanks to you and Geoff getting a gown for me."

"We two American commoners must uphold the dignity of our homeland!" She smoothed back Viv's flaxen hair, then rose to pace across the tent. On her dressing table were sketches for not only the dress Shelby would wear to Devonshire House in two nights, but also the pearl-encrusted white silk gown that was being readied for her wedding day in May. Her mind was cluttered with those myriad details, but in the forefront was tomorrow's final performance with the Wild West Show. The costume she'd chosen was hanging on her brass coatrack, seeming to stare at her in constant reminder that her old life was ending.

Slowly, Shelby reached for her favorite Stetson and fingered the brim. "As long as I've been with the Wild West Show, I've been able to hang on to a piece of Cody," she confessed now to Viv. "Every person and aspect of the show reminds me of home... of the Bighorn Basin and the Sunshine Ranch. I was so happy there—and Geoff was, too. We used to shoot bottles off the fences together, and I'd joke about learning Annie Oakley's tricks! Never in the world could I have imagined what lay ahead for us...." Her eyes swam with tears again. "There is so much to look forward to... but I can't help feeling sad realizing that we can't go back, either."

Suddenly, a voice from outside the tent exclaimed, "Hey kid, you don't think you've seen the last of the West, do you? Believe me, your family's not about to let you forget where you come from!"

Viv looked worried and uncertain. Shelby stood stock-still for a long moment, then gave a loud whoop of pure joy. "Quit playing tricks on me and get in here, you big brute!"

Around the flap of the tent strode a tall young man with dark curly hair and black-lashed green eyes. He wore a wide, irresistible smile that looked amazingly like Shelby's own, and she ran to meet him. When they embraced, he lifted her off the ground, twirling her around so that a chair and two cushions went flying when her booted feet spun through the air.

"Mon Dieu,
how beautiful you've grown!" he yelled, laughing.

Shelby was crying again. "Oh, oh, I've missed you! I didn't know how much until this very moment!"

Just then Geoff appeared. He stopped on the little wooden deck built out from the front of the tent, staring in shock, his face darkening. They didn't see him. Shelby was too busy weeping with happiness, her arms wrapped around this stranger's neck in a manner Geoff had believed she reserved only for him. The man, too handsome for his own good, was beaming down at her, his face just inches away. If something wasn't done, the scoundrel would be kissing her next!