Chapter 18
Chapter
Eighteen
Buffalo Bill was known for his spectacular and well-attended after-performance parties.
The affairs were usually held in his own lavish tents, of which there were several.
Such were attended by the famous and well-known, as well as by the entire Wild West cast. An orchestra was always in attendance, and champagne flowed like water at such occasions. This one was no different.
At present, Irena and Suzette stood together amongst the crowd. In the background were the hum of the orchestra and the murmur of many voices, all speaking at once. Perhaps it was this feeling of security which lent to them the notion that they could speak freely to one another.
“You and your husband were spectacular,” said Irena quietly as she sipped a glass full of champagne. “And so real to life.”
“Yes, well, it was real to life. I was truly fighting him. You know I am upset with him, and with good reason.”
Above the champagne glass, Irena blinked at her granddaughter.
“So you say. However, it was an extraordinary idea of Bill’s to rescue you later from the Indian village, setting you free.
Pray, I have rarely seen so enthusiastic a crowd.
I began to think they might jump over the barrier and into the arena with you.
Indeed, I would have to agree with Mr. Cody in this regard.
It was an absolutely brilliant maneuver on Black Lion’s part to steal you, and you were stunning as a captive, my dear. ”
Suzette didn’t answer. She couldn’t, not at this particular moment. In sweeping her gaze around the room, her glance caught on a familiar face.
“What is he doing here?” she asked no one in particular. “Indians don’t usually attend these parties given for the dignitaries, do they?”
“Is someone here, dear?”
“Yes. It is Black Lion, as well as…well, I have not had the acquaintance of the older gentleman who is with him. However, having seen the costumes the Indians wear, I would say those two are probably dressed in their finest.”
“Oh? Where are they?”
“Over there, in a corner, near the entrance.” Suzette nodded toward them. “Do you see them?”
Irena turned to stare at the place Suzette indicated. Oddly, she went suddenly silent, though Irena did grab hold of Suzette’s hand and squeezed it.
“He’s quite handsome, isn’t he?” Though Suzette was at odds with Black Lion, she could not deny he cut an exotic and incredible figure.
He was dressed in a white buckskin shirt that hung well below his knees.
Fringe as well as blue and silver beads decorated both sleeves, while a beaded circle of blue and silver hung over his chest and the lower part of his shirt.
Over each of his shoulders, he had positioned what looked to be white buckskin strips, heavily beaded in blue and silver beads.
White leggings with long fringe hugged his legs, and on his feet were white beaded moccasins.
His hair was left long, flowing over his face, like a lion’s mane.
It fell over his shoulders and down his back, while two strands of his front locks on each side of his face had been pulled together and tied there with beads.
He carried a lance in his hands which was decorated with feathers and ermine fur.
He was magnificent, exotic, and though she still harbored a less than kindly attitude toward him, she stared at him, agape.
He looked to be exactly what he was—a proud warrior.
“It is he,” said Irena at her side, her voice a little breathless.
“Yes, I know. He cuts a good figure, does he not?”
“He does, indeed. Suzette.” Irena turned toward her, though her gaze remained on the two Indians who lingered in the entryway. “I must go speak to him. Do not be upset with me.”
“Why would I be upset with you?”
“Just remember to not be. You will forgive me, will you not?”
“Of course.”
Irena kissed Suzette on the cheek and then hugged her. “I love you, Suzie. I always have, I always will.”
“And I love you too, but, Irena—”
“I have to go to him.”
“Yes, I understand. I know the two of you are friends. Do tell him not to wait up for me tonight, though. I plan to be here until the party ends.”
Irena nodded, she smiled, and then she was gone, weaving her way through the crowd, toward the two gentlemen of the Plains.
Looking pleased, Suzette drew her glance away from the entrance and the men, and decided to mingle with the rest of the show people and cowboys.
In a far corner of the room was Annie Oakley.
Who would believe such a small, delicate woman could be a professional sharpshooter?
That she was also a woman of sympathy toward the Indians was well-known, for Sitting Bull was her fast friend.
Suzette made a move toward Annie, when a deep baritone voice sounded from behind her. “I have heard many people say tonight what a good captive you make.”
She grimaced. Even if he hadn’t spoken, the scent of rawhide and mint was enough to announce Black Lion’s presence behind her.
She said, without turning to greet him, “I am no man’s captive, and I never will be. I am afraid to tell you, Mr. Lion, slavery is dead in our world today.”
“Hau, it is good, and yet too bad, for I would enjoy seeing you decorate my lodge.”
“I am also not decoration, and I would like to remind you I have by no means changed my mind about you.” She was afraid to spin around and look at him, apprehensive of him simply being too good-looking for her peace of mind.
“By the way,” she said over her shoulder, “who is your friend? I have not seen him before tonight.”
“He is an old medicine man from my tribe. He has come here to give me advice.”
“Advice?”
“Hau.” Black Lion stepped around to face her, making it all but impossible to ignore him. “Advice. My mission, as well as another matter…” This last was said against her ear, which stirred to life tingles of excitement all along her nerve endings.
She reminded herself she was upset with this man. “Oh, yes. Your mission.” Here was yet another justification for her to doubt this man. His mission, which was an esoteric task which, though steeped in legend and mystery, was impossible.
Yet she had promised him she would not pass judgment on him because of it, and she would keep her word. It didn’t necessarily follow, however, that she believed him. Indeed, not.
“Well, then,” she said, trying to keep from looking at the man directly, “I assume you and he have much to discuss. It would be ill of me to detain you in such a circumstance as this. Pray, feel free to leave me so you might humor him.”
“We have already had our talk.”
“Oh?”
“And so you see, I have much time…time to plead my circumstance to you in the hopes you will listen to me.”
“Mr. Lion, let it not be said that I will not listen to you. However, at the moment, I am awaiting the engagement of—”
“Miss Joselyn?”
Suzette turned her head to watch Nate Salsbury, Buffalo Bill’s partner, approach them. He said, “Miss Joselyn, the musicians are ready for Irena’s performance. Do you know where she is?”
“Why, yes, I do. She is by the entrance…” Suzette hesitated as she glanced there now, but there was no sign of Irena. “Hmm… She was there only a moment ago. Perhaps she has stepped outside.”
“Thank you, I am sure she has. I shall look for her there.” Salsbury tipped his hat and departed immediately.
“This is stunning regalia, Black Lion.” Annie Oakley and her husband, Frank Butler, joined Suzette and Black Lion, leaving Suzette no choice but to acknowledge Black Lion. Annie continued, “It looks to be ancient, and I have not seen anything like it in the show.”
Frank smiled and raised his glass in greeting, but remained silent. It was up to Black Lion to answer. “It belonged to my father. It is his ceremonial shirt.”
“Ceremonial?”
“It is the tradition of my people that, when one is to attend a celebration with others, one dresses in his ceremonial best.”
Annie nodded. “Yes, and, Miss Joselyn…”
“Pray, please call me Suzette.”
Annie grinned. “Suzette, what a spectacular performance you presented to the audience this afternoon. It was a stroke of genius.”
Suzette returned Annie’s smile. “Thank you, but I’m afraid the congratulations should go to Mr. Lion, here, whose idea it was. Like many in the crew, I was as stunned as they were when he departed from the script.”
“Indeed?” Annie gave Black Lion a considering glance.
“Miss Joselyn…” It was Nate Salsbury speaking again, as he rejoined their party.
“I cannot find Irena anywhere, and we are ready for the entertainment to begin. The dignitaries from Denver are waiting. Please forgive me, but I know you, too, have operatic experience. I do not suppose I could impose upon you to…”
“Oh, yes. Of course. I would be honored to sing in Irena’s stead, if this is what you are meaning to ask me. But tell me, did you check her quarters? She might have retired there, perhaps to change clothes.”
“She is not there.”
“Indeed?” Suzette frowned. Where could Irena have gone? She glanced at Black Lion to ask for his favor in seeking out Irena. But he took the moment upon himself.
“While you prepare your song, I will look for her.”
“I would be so appreciative,” Suzette acknowledged, slanting him a grudging yet genuine smile. Then, turning toward Salsbury, she said, “Would you escort me to the musicians?”
“I would be most happy to do so.” Salsbury presented her with his arm. “Shall we go?”
“Yes,” agreed Suzette, and murmuring a quiet, “Would you excuse me?” to Annie and Frank Butler, Suzette went in search of the lead musician.
“Ah, I see,” said Jacques Marcelle, the leader of the trio of musicians, as well as its flautist. Besides himself, there was a clarinet player and a harpist. “You are to sing in your grandmother’s place?”
“Yes,” agreed Suzette. “I fear we cannot locate Irena at present, and since I have little knowledge of what she was to sing tonight, I would ask if you and your company know ‘The Last Rose of Summer’?”
“Oui, mademoiselle. In what key would you like it?”
“B-flat, please.”