Chapter Five
The lobby was full, but it was such a huge place that even so, it wasn’t crowded.
The many mirrors on all the high walls doubled and redoubled the busy scene, reflecting the red carpets and golden draperies as well as the well-dressed people awaiting their turn at the reservations desk, or simply waiting for whatever other reasons people did when they seemed to be loitering in grand hotel lobbies.
Many in the group that stood in the center of the lobby were too busy stealing glances at themselves in the mirrors to properly take in all the grandeur about them.
But they were, after all, performers. Hannah had no such trouble.
She frankly stared all around herself, as amazed as she was delighted.
She and all the others in the troupe had been so since they’d arrived in Denver this morning.
The city was everything Kyle promised. It was no New York, of course, but they hadn’t expected that.
It was hard to tell just what they’d expected after the towns Kyle had dragged them through so far.
But Denver showed every sign of prosperity and civilization they were accustomed to: the streets were clogged by gentlemen’s carriages and family coaches, as well as horse buses and farm wagons; there were new, impressive buildings and rows of fantastically ornate millionaire’s residences, as well as rows of shacks, shanties, and a huge crib district.
The city was obviously new, and more obviously unfinished, but it was a true city, one they could recognize.
And now this huge hotel they were checking into, the Windsor, was every bit as elegant as Kyle had promised.
Hannah glanced from the shining wood and marble reception desks to the plush chairs and divans set out for the guests, to the potted palms in their polished brass containers, and she sighed with gratification.
She’d been about to lose faith in Kyle Harper and this whole endeavor.
But here they were. She’d seen many great hotels in New York City, this one compared to any of them.
“Do yer think,” Peggy whispered nervously, “that I should stay here with ye? I mean,” she said, her hazel eyes wider than Hannah had ever seen them, “I’m no performer, nor even a managing sort of person, like yerself.
I’m help-like,” she tried to explain, unaware that she’d crept so close to Hannah that her new friend could almost fancy she heard her rapid heartbeat from where it obviously was in her throat.
“Nonsense,” Hannah said bracingly. “You’ll stay with me, unless Kyle runs mad and decides to get us all single rooms,” she added.
She smiled and lifted her chin higher, discovering that having someone to comfort gave her more courage, because the magnificence of the place and its patrons had begun to make her feel insignificant and poorly dressed herself.
“After all,” she went on, “that’s the wonder of democracy, if you can pay the rent, you belong.
You’ll see. We’re all just a bit travel-stained, and these people have had time to dress up.
” And down and all the way around, she thought with a little less confidence, eyeing the plumes on the hats, the furs on the backs, and the diamonds on the necks of some of the women as they passed by.
Kyle had got to the top of the line, and now seemed to be arguing with the desk clerk, who snapped his fingers and summoned a haughtier gentleman to also confer with them.
Hannah hoped he’d get their rooms soon, because for all she knew that money was a great equalizer, she saw several members of the troupe looking a bit anxious where they stood in a clot with her and some others, waiting for Kyle to return to them.
A few others, Hannah noted, were standing apart, looking so theatrically bored that they immediately caught the eye.
Lottie did, and she’d also put on lip rouge, which no actress did unless she was on the stage, or it was late at night, or she wanted everyone to know her for what she was—which in Lottie’s case was certainly more than theatrical, Hannah thought with such sudden annoyance that she shocked herself.
Because she wasn’t the only one to have gotten that impression.
And whereas Hannah didn’t mind the stout gentleman with his thumbs in his vest gazing at Lottie consideringly, nor the old gray-mustached fellow with slicked-back hair who was ogling her openly, the sight of two young gentlemen paused in their tracks to look at her as they left the gilt elevator was quite another story.
They were both tall, well-made men in impeccable clothing, the sort one might expect to find in any good neighborhood in New York City.
Except that few men anywhere looked quite as handsome as they did, and no men in New York were so tanned.
One remarked something to the other as they gazed at Lottie.
He was a jot taller, and had craggy features in a long, pleasant face.
But it was the other Hannah continued to stare at, because she told herself, of his splendid coloring.
He’d hair the color of sunlight, and as he watched Lottie, his handsome face grew a smile as bright and warming as that, too.
But, what a pity! Hannah noted, for he’d a scar on his cheek and another on his chin…
It wasn’t until his eyes had traveled from Lottie to assess the group she stood apart from, that Hannah could see that those eyes were as bright and clear blue as the western skies she’d been under this morning.
Because now he was smiling and staring directly at her.
In that second, she smiled back, as enchanted with him as he’d been with Lottie.
A half second later she realized what she was doing, and rather than scurry beneath a couch, or hide behind a potted palm, she called on all her training and congratulated herself on how calmly she managed to turn and look away.
“Now that you’ve scared her half to death, can we go?” Royal asked Gray, as Gray stood and watched the dark-haired beauty turn the color of the crimson carpets and then pale as ice, as she primmed that luscious mouth and jerked her head around to stare fixedly anywhere but at him.
“I was hoping she’d faint, so we could come to the rescue,” Gray answered. “Don’t know how else we can make her acquaintance.”
“Wait and find out her room number, maybe?” Royal suggested.
“What a brilliant idea!” Gray congratulated him.
“Yeah. Especially since that’s what we decided we’d do with the blonde,” Royal replied, grinning.
“Yes,” Gray said on a smile. “So let’s just get us something essential, like seegars or a newspaper, at that shop to the back of the lobby, and wait until we see them go up.
See what a better idea it was to stay here than at The Denver Club?
” he commented as they strolled to the hotel tobacconist’s shop.
“It’s more exclusive there, all right, but it’s too damned exclusive for our purposes. ”
“Our purpose,” Royal reminded him, “was to meet decent girls who might be good wives.”
“Another reason this is such a fine hotel,” Gray agreed.
“Two birds with one stone, literally. Because after we find out what we want to know for later tonight, we nip upstairs to the ballroom and meet the cream of Denver society at the afternoon tea we got ourselves invited to, and find out what we need to know for the farther future there.
Because some things take time, and other things just take money.
“Didn’t you see those cases that were stacked up near our two beauties?” he asked his puzzled friend. “It’s a theatrical troupe,” he explained, on a chuckle. “Friend, we are in luck!”
Kyle held his hands outstretched at his sides, as if there were a gun pointed at him, and not just a few dozen pair of accusing eyes.
“It’s a matter of luck. What else can I say?
” he said. “What else can I do? Haul out guns to try and change things—the way the natives might do? You saw me do battle with the clerk, his superior, that fool’s superior, and then, finally, the august manager, himself.
To no avail. They say we’ve no reservations.
They say they haven’t got my telegram, they say they may never have got it, they swear they haven’t got enough rooms free for all of us.
Well, what shall I do, children? Book a dozen of you in, and the rest elsewhere?
And who shall choose those lucky few? That is—if any of you wish to stay on in a place that’s so dishonest,” he said, on a haughty sniff.
“For it’s clear to me that they haven’t the room because of some local society party they’ve got going on here.
“Come,” he said, picking up his traveling bag, “there’s another fine hotel not far away. You’ll be comfortable, I promise you. Only not patronized, or cheated!” he said grandly as he strode out of the lobby without looking back.
After a moment’s hesitation, one by one, the members of his troupe lifted their bags and followed in a reluctant, ragged line, like so many dispirited ducklings.
There was much muttering about Kyle’s honesty, and many threats ‘to go and ask that manager a thing or two myself,’ but no one did.
Perhaps, Hannah thought sadly, because no one really wanted to know if Kyle was telling the truth, since there wasn’t much that they could do if he wasn’t.
Hannah felt as embarrassed as she did uncomfortable.
It was one thing to leave an elegant place because you wished to, another to leave because you’d the sneaking feeling everyone knew you weren’t suitable enough to stay.
She didn’t brood about it, because soon she’d another, more physical problem to vex her.
The rarefied air made breathing difficult for everyone, even the youngest dancers.
Some of the troupe staggered and some wheezed as they carried their cases and followed Kyle along the streets of Denver toward their new hotel.