Chapter 2
Chapter
Two
London
The sun was high, the day was sultry, warm and muggy, and despite the fact the exhibition’s seating provided a canvas roof for protection, nineteen-year-old Suzette Joselyn was hot. Daintily, she pressed a handkerchief to her forehead.
What, she wondered, had possessed her to accompany her grandmother, Irena, to this rather crude display of American culture?
Even though people from all over London had flocked here—especially after the Prince of Wales’s endorsement of the show—it still seemed to her that the show would be crude, indeed.
Irritated, Suzette thought of the old saying about a cat and its dire curiosity. Perhaps next time she would heed the cliché’s warning before agreeing to one of Irena’s schemes.
In truth, Suzette was embarrassed, and with good reason.
The smell of horseflesh—and perhaps unwashed bodies—wafted through the air.
And she, sitting here so primly beside her fiancé, who was a fine young man, wondered what she was to do.
A proper young lady, especially one who was to become the wife of the Earl of Lankersheim, was not supposed to acknowledge the rank odor of horse manure, stables and worse, was she?
Suzette frowned. Leave it to Irena to put her granddaughter into such a position. Alas, Suzette feared that Irena did not approve of her granddaughter’s engagement. Although why this was so was a mystery to Suzette.
But Suzette ignored her grandmother’s opinion. It was a wonderful piece of luck that the earl wanted to marry her rather than use her in return for furthering her career, which was the fate of most opera singers.
Suzette, the daughter of opera stars John and Beatrice Joselyn, had always looked upon the practice of entertaining rich young men as…
well, as distasteful. Of course, she realized it was sometimes a necessary part of the business.
Very few prima donnas attained their position without compromising their virtue.
But having grown up with such as a custom, having witnessed the sordidness that attached itself to the business in general, she had long ago decided this sort of life was not for her.
She craved love, she craved position and respect within British society, she craved a family, she craved…
Blare-e-e-e!
What was this loud sound? Looking around, she recognized the problem at once. She rolled her eyes and sighed.
A twenty-piece brass band had materialized across the arena. Complete with trumpets, trombones, bass and drums, the band was only beginning to bellow out the strains of a loud marching song.
Dear Lord, could their music be any more vulgar?
“I say.” William Blair, Earl of Lankersheim and Suzette’s fiancé, leaned in toward her. “It’s not exactly operatic music, now, is it?”
“Indeed not.” Suzette wrinkled her nose.
When Suzette turned to speak to Irena, she discovered her grandmother was gone.
Spinning back toward her fiancé, Suzette asked, “Pray, did you see when Irena left?”
“Doubtlessly, I did.” Taking hold of Suzette’s gloved hand, he patted it as a parent might do when scolding a child. “I do wish you would call your grandmother by her proper title, darling. She is, after all, your grandmother.”
“Yes, yes, of course,” Suzette said, though she frowned at her fiancé and retrieved her white-gloved hand.
“Oh, and now I’ve upset you,” commented the earl.
“In truth, you have not,” Suzette lied. “I am simply wondering where Iren—where she went.”
“Darling, I know she raised you under unconventional circumstances, and the two of you like to call one another by your given names. It’s not for me that I mind. It’s only during those times when we are in public, to address her as… And then there is my mother…”
“Yes, yes, you are right, of course,” Suzette agreed meekly enough, although she went on to say, “Heaven forbid someone think the wrong thing.”
“Now, now. Let’s not be sarcastic. I must think of my position, after all.”
Suzette smiled. “I know you must, William, and I am not annoyed with you for reminding me of it.” Again, she lied. “It is only that Iren—my grandmother should not be roaming around this Wild West Show alone. You know how she is, what might happen.”
“She is a grown woman, after all.”
“Yes, but… Have you never noticed how trouble seems to seek her out?”
“No, my dear, I have not.”
She stared at William for some moments, admiring his handsome face, which was alight with tolerance. In his eyes was a gleam of admiration for her.
At last Suzette smiled. “You are right. It is wrong of me to worry about her. She is a grown woman and capable of handling herself, and yet—”
“Oh, look there! Is that Buffalo Bill, himself?”
Dutifully, Suzette gazed down into the arena. “It does look as though it is he.”
“And who is it there...off to the side? I daresay, is that—?”
Suzette gasped. “Irena! Oh, William, I must go down there.”
“Calm down, darling, I’m certain she is fine. Maybe she will sing the first song of the season so the performance can begin.”
Suzette closed her eyes and prayed.
As it turned out, William was right. Apparently, Irena was going to sing.
After a short introduction by Buffalo Bill himself, Irena stepped up to the platform, which was set in front of the band.
She even opened her mouth as though to sing the American national anthem, but instead of a melody, her speaking voice rang out loud and strong.
“I would like to dedicate this beautiful work I am about to sing to my granddaughter, Suzette Joselyn, and to her fiancé, William Blair, the Earl of Lankersheim.”
To Suzette’s complete mortification, Irena began to sing the opening stanza of Henry Purcell’s “Dido’s Lament,” an aria of death and of love betrayed. She might as well have been singing a funeral march.
William’s complexion turned pink. However, he laughed. Suzette, on the other hand, knew her face had to be a bright shade of red.
Oh, to find a hole and sink into it…
“Darling, be fair,” said William. “Your grandmother is older. She’s eccentric. She has a right to live her life as she has always lived it.”
“Not when it influences me…and you. And she’s not really that old.”
“Suzette, I, for one, am not upset.”
“But I am.”
William placed his hand over hers. “There, there. I am certain she will come to like me in time.”
“It is very kind of you to say this.” But truth be told, Suzette was too annoyed to take pleasure in William’s comfort. “I must go down there, for I am going to talk to her. Now. Would you like to accompany me?”
William gazed at the arena, where the Indians were only beginning to enter in single file. All were dancing. All were dressed in the most colorful display of feathers, buckskins and beads Suzette had ever seen.
“Of course I will accompany you.”
Suzette sensed William’s reluctance. He wanted to stay and watch the show.
She smiled at him. “No, you needn’t come with me. I understand. When is the next time you will be able to witness a spectacle like this? Pray, be at your ease. I will go and find Irena, and we will both be back here soon.”
“Yes, my precious.” William grinned at her and patted her hand. “Do not scold her overly much, though. Remember, she is older.”
“I will consider it.” Suzette accepted William’s hand to help her up, and, clasping hold of her skirts, she picked her way through the crowd.