"I was afraid that you'd be angry when you learned I'd suggested that they sit in the royal box the same day as your debut," she replied nervously.
"Well, I've decided it's just as well. I'll admit just to you, Viv, that I do think about Geoff. At least so far, no one knows I'm here and my name hasn't been in the advertisements. If the king and queen had attended after I'd begun performing, Geoff might've accompanied them, and I couldn't bear that."
"Don't you think he might be here today?"
Shelby shook her head emphatically. "No! It's too near his wedding, and if he were nostalgic for reminders of Wyoming, he would have visited already. I think he's avoiding me as much as I'm avoiding him." Her eyes shone as she added, "It's just as well, Viv. I've had enough heartache. I just want to get this tour over with so that we can go home."
Vivian wasn't so sure she would go home, given her hasty departure just before the inevitable discovery of Bart's body. She also wasn't sure she wanted to leave London. Charles Lipton-Lyons had taken her out for two long, exciting, chaste evenings of suppers and theater, and it was all she could do not to tell Shelby about him. Shelby thought Viv was visiting an ancient aunt who lived in Bayswater.
"This costume is ridiculous," Shelby pronounced as she turned around to be fastened up the back. "Maybe Annie Oakley could get away with it, but—"
"You look just perfect!" Vivian handed her a wide-brimmed straw hat. From a distance they could hear the opening notes of the "Star Spangled Banner" wafting into the camp village. "We'd better hurry! You're the third act on the program!"
Taking deep breaths to keep herself calm, Shelby looked around to make certain Ben had all her firearms and accessories at the showgrounds. She took a last peek in the mirror, laughed at her reflection, and let Viv pull her out of the tent.
* * *
"It was splendid of you to accompany us today, Geoff," King Edward VII said as his party settled itself in the royal box. "Having just come from Buffalo Bill's own town in the American West, you doubtless will bring an authentic perspective to our outing."
"The last time we attended, the performance was spectacular," Queen Alexandra chimed in. "Have you been to the Wild West Show, Lady Clementine?"
"No. I haven't."
The queen took a moment to see that her grandsons, Prince Edward and Prince Albert, were settled, leaving the bride-to-be an opportunity to fume.
The last thing Clementine had wanted to do was remind Geoff of his months in Wyoming, for it was quite apparent to her that the experience had changed him. Even before he went away, he certainly hadn't been happy, but at least he'd been witty and bold and fond of sex, or so she'd heard. Since his return to England, and especially since he'd become Duke of Aylesbury, Geoff's characteristic air of boredom seemed to have a harder edge. That didn't bode well for their marriage... but when Lady Clem discussed the matter with Charles Lipton-Lyons, he had assured her that Geoff would forget about Wyoming in time.
The American ambassador and Mrs. Choate were seated behind the betrothed couple, and now they leaned forward to engage Clementine in conversation about her wedding plans. Geoff was grateful, for he found it impossible to behave as an attentive fiancé ought. Listening to the cowboy band play a sort of overture, he felt a painful yearning for everything he'd loved about Wyoming. It hurt even to think of the town of Cody, of the tumbleweeds and Jakie Schwoob and Purcell's Saloon and the splendid views that marked the South Fork Road... but he still tried to block Shelby from his mind. When she did appear, unbidden and burningly real, Geoff felt angry—with fate, he supposed.
I shouldn't have come. I shouldn't have let Manypenny convince me that it would do me good.
When the band struck up the "Star Spangled Banner," Geoff clenched and unclenched his hands, then pressed them to his tense thighs. He wore a suit of soft gray wool, a crisp white shirt, and a waistcoat of blue-gray corded silk. There was a hint of spring in the air, heightened by sunshine, and Geoff hadn't needed an overcoat.
As the band played on, Buffalo Bill suddenly burst into the arena, riding a black charger. The audience roared and the two young princes jumped to their feet. Cody rode toward the royal box and announced in his distinctive voice, "Your Majesties, ladies and gentlemen, allow me to introduce to you the greatest Congress of Rough Riders in the world!"
The king raised his hat to acknowledge the old showman, and the American ambassador explained, "Perhaps Your Majesties do not know that Colonel Cody coined the term 'Rough Riders' five years before our great President Roosevelt used it for his cavalry during the Cuban war!"
Geoff sat forward, intent on the spectacle that was unfolding below them. There was a grand review that led off the show, featuring colorfully dressed Indians, cowboys, gauchos, Cossacks, Mexicans, Arabs, as well as mounted soldiers from armies around the world. They paraded around while the band played, and the princes could scarcely contain their excitement.
Seeing the cowboys, in their Stetson hats and sheepskin chaps and bright kerchiefs, Geoff ached again for the life he'd left behind.
He felt Clementine staring at him, and knew he ought to reach for her hand to reassure her, but he could not. It was as if his heart, opened by Shelby, had closed tighter than ever when he left her. He couldn't manage even to pretend.
"And now, folks, it's my pleasure to introduce the newest member of our troupe!" Cody was shouting, still on horseback. "She's every bit as lovely and spirited as our beloved Annie Oakley. Give a warm welcome to our Little Trick Shooter: Shelby Matthews!"
Geoff opened his mouth, but no sound came out, not even a gasp. No sound could equal his feelings at that moment. It wasn't possible... yet with his own eyes he stared as Shelby came capering into the arena, holding her Winchester repeating rifle at a jaunty angle. She was smiling her wide, winsome smile, as if she'd been performing for years.
Chapter 17
The approval of the crowd was like a tidal wave of goodwill rolling over Shelby, and she responded immediately. In her navy-blue dress with white trim, which showed off a tiny waist circled by a silk sash, and with blue-stockinged calves and matching slippers, she was an intriguing blend of schoolgirl and beautiful woman. Her hair rippled down her back, gleaming like cognac in the sunlight, and under the brim of her boater-style hat, Shelby's piquant features had never been more irresistible.
Ben Avery, in full cowboy attire, followed his niece into the arena at a discreet distance. It did him good to see her light up this way; it was the first time she'd looked truly happy since Geoffrey Weston had left the Sunshine Ranch half a year ago. Waiting by a table draped with silk and laden with rifles, shotguns, and various props, Ben looked for the royal box. It was easy to spot the king, with his Vandyke beard and portly physique... and sure enough, there was Geoff—just as Vivian had predicted. He reminded Ben of a watchful lion, leaning partially into a shadow, but there was no mistaking the line of his wide shoulder or the sculpted lines of his profile.
Shelby was almost laughing as she scampered back to join her uncle. "It's going to be fine!" she whispered happily. "I can feel it!"
They had decided to keep the act easy today, then add tricks as their level of confidence grew. Shelby started off with an exhibition of elementary rifle shooting, then caught the audience off guard when she threw up a glass ball high in the air, quickly aimed her rifle, and hit the target. The cheering was so sustained that Ben wondered if they shouldn't stop right there.
They tried a number of stunts. Ben pulled the trap and Shelby shot clay pigeons; first one, then two, and finally three at a time. She stood with her back to the trap as it was pulled, then turned and fired. They moved on to more complicated tricks, one of which called for Shelby to lie down with her back on her chair, then shoot at a ball that Ben swung back and forth on a string.
Finally she attempted one of Annie Oakley's own famous mirror shots. For her variation, Shelby held a tiny mirror with her left hand and lay her rifle on her shoulder, pointing behind her, her right hand on t
he trigger. Ben stood on a stool perhaps fifty feet back, holding an ace of hearts out in the air. Then, using only the mirror to guide her aim, Shelby fired backward, and nothing happened. The crowd was as silent as if the arena was a church.
Shelby took a deep breath, exhaled slowly, aimed again and squeezed the trigger gently—and the card flew out of Ben's hand.
The band began to play "In the Good Old Summertime," and Shelby laid her last smoking rifle on the table and blew a kiss to the audience, now on its feet. Then, as the wild cheers of the spectators mingled with the briskly paced song, she held onto her hat with one hand and went running across the grounds, pausing only to toss one more wink and smile over her shoulder before disappearing behind the white canvas curtains.
Her heart was pounding like crazy. Johnny Baker, the celebrated marksman who had been with the show for twenty years, rushed to clasp her hand.
"Good for you, honey! They love you!"
The crowd had been forced to stop applauding her because another act was beginning. A wagon train, like ones that had taken so many pioneers west, was moving into the arena. It would be "attacked" by Indians and then rescued by Buffalo Bill. There was so much noise that Shelby was forced to yell to be heard.
"I know that my talents are meager compared to yours, Johnny, and I'm not very fast yet. That's why Colonel Cody coached me to play to the audience." Now that it was over, she felt a little embarrassed by her own showing off. "If they had Annie Oakley herself here to compare me to, I'd be booed off the show grounds!"
"Nonsense. You have star quality, and that means more than you know!" A short man, Baker was able to look right into her eyes as he spoke. "And you were smart not to try anything too hard the first time out. Go slow and give 'em those theatrics and you'll do fine!"
Vivian was waiting to congratulate her friend and Ben caught up with them after he'd stored her guns. The area offstage was crowded with hundreds of performers and horses, so it was easy to get lost. Ben had an easier time tracking down Shelby and Viv because they were among only a handful of women in the entire troupe.
"Shel!" he barked, catching her by the back of her skirt. "Don't think about goin' back to your tent; Colonel Cody says you have to stick around to meet the king and queen when the show is over!"
"What? But Uncle Ben, you'll come with me, won't you?"
"Nah, I'm not invited."
"But what will I say?" Shelby wailed. "I'm not prepared!"
Chief Iron Tail, waiting nearby on horseback as the Indians prepared to attack, chuckled at the sight of her stricken expression. "Shelby is not afraid to shoot a card out of her uncle's hand, but quakes at the thought of shaking hands with a mere man!"
In the midst of the laughter that followed, Vivian managed to pull Ben Avery aside for a private word: "I don't care if you weren't invited. Don't you see? You have to go with her. Shelby might sneak off and avoid the reception, or she might faint when she sees him! In any case, you must distract that awful woman Geoff's engaged to marry, so that he and Shelby are free to at least greet each other!"
"Distract her!" Ben hissed. "How am I supposed to do that?"
"Don't be crabby, for heaven's sake. I have heard from very reliable sources that Lady Clementine loves horses. Why don't you offer to give her riding lessons in Hyde Park? Tell her to bring her friends."
"Can I charge 'em?"
Viv laughed in spite of herself. "Why not?"
* * *
The young princes were clamoring to visit the Indian Village and meet the cowboys, but first they had to stand still while their grandparents received the stars of the Wild West Show.
Ever since he'd heard Cody speak Shelby's name, Geoff had been numb with a mixture of shock and joy... and dread. How in the world could they meet, surrounded by not only the royal party, but also the woman he was to marry in little more than a fortnight?
He stood on the far side of King Edward, and since His Majesty cut a very large figure, Geoff could remain nearly hidden if he wished. Unfortunately, he could not make himself invisible.
William F. Cody was the first to appear, and the king and queen greeted him with reminiscences of the first performance of the Wild West Show they had attended with Queen Victoria in 1887.
"Wasn't that a grand day?" Buffalo Bill agreed. "It was a high point in the history of our show! There were four European kings present and I took all of them for a ride in the Deadwood stagecoach!"
King Edward nodded. "Yes, and I, as the mere Prince of Wales, sat with you as you drove. Perched up on top, swaying and jolting with each bump and turn, I believe that I was treated to a more thrilling experience than the monarchs inside!"
"And then you told me that I had a magnificent poker hand that afternoon: four kings!"
The laughter that accompanied this exchange seemed to relax not only the royal party, but also the Wild West performers. They came one by one, the cowboys and scouts, the international soldiers, the Indians, all doffing their hats, helmets, and headdresses as they met the new royal family.
King Edward was particularly delighted to see Johnny Baker, for they, too, had met in 1887. The two men shook hands vigorously, the monarch heaped compliments upon the American, and then he remarked, "I missed Annie Oakley in today's performance, but that new female certainly makes up in style what she lacks in skill. I found her excessively charming!"
"Yes, indeed," chimed in the queen.
Johnny declared that he couldn't agree more. "Where is that sprite? For all her bravado in the arena, Shelby went white when she heard that she was to meet Your Majesties." Leaning back, Johnny craned his neck until he spotted Shelby and Ben standing uneasily at the very end of the line. "Come up here, you two, and meet the king!"
Geoff thought his heart would jump out of his chest when he saw Shelby approaching, wearing an expression of disarming uncertainty. It was all he could do not to step forward and reach for her, but with the king on one side of him and Clementine on the other, he took a step back instead.
She was radiant; lovelier and more clever and daring than ever. Everyone stared as she passed by, including Lady Clem, and Geoff felt a surge of pride. This Wild West performance of hers was outrageous, but Shelby carried it off with great style, and there were already newspaper reporters and photographers recording her meeting with the king and queen.
Edward VII was presenting Shelby to Alexandra, while Geoff shook hands with Johnny Baker. Knowing that he and Shelby would come face-to-face within moments, Geoff glanced at Ben and found with a shock that he was staring straight at him, his eyes knowing. One might suspect that uncomplicated Ben had planned this little drama!
In sonorous tones the king was saying, "Now then, Miss Matthews, you must meet the Duke of Aylesbury," and at the same moment he turned his big body so that Geoff was fully revealed.
If Shelby was shocked, she didn't show it, but she did falter for just an instant, and there was a flash of emotion in her eyes. When their hands met, Shelby caught her full lower lip with her teeth, and Geoff heard his own sharp intake of breath. Currents of electricity seemed to pass where their hands touched and between their locked eyes.
"How do you do, Miss Matthews?" he managed to say. "I can't tell you how impressed I was by your performance."
"Indeed, Your Grace?" Shelby felt as if she were being buffeted by a storm. His effect on her was more powerful than ever, and it was all she could do to breathe, let alone speak! Why hadn't someone warned her, so she could have avoided this moment entirely? It was terrible torture to rekindle the fire in her heart when nothing could come of it. It would be better not to see him at all than to touch his hand and gaze into his eyes and crave just one more embrace, one more rapturous kiss, one more moment of shared laughter....
All these thoughts and feelings were squeezed into mere seconds, but Clementine needed no more than a glance to rouse her suspicions. "Geoffrey," she said sweetly, "have you and Miss Matthews met before? In Wyoming, perhaps?"
Before either o
f them could summon the presence of mind to reply, Ben Avery intervened, bypassing his niece and actually bowing before Lady Clem. "I hope you'll forgive me for interrupting, my lady, but I had to speak to you." Hat in hand, Ben gave her a boyish grin that displayed seldom-used dimples. "My name is Benjamin Franklin Avery, and I'm Miss Matthews's trainer... and manager."
"Indeed? It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Avery." She flushed prettily under his bold male gaze. "You handled yourself with great dexterity during the show, sir."
"Now, I won't let you be the first one to pass out compliments, my lady! I happen to know that you're a first-rate horsewoman, and I hope to see you ride. I'm giving lessons in western-style riding in Hyde Park starting tomorrow, and one of my other students told me that you might be interested."
"Really! Who was that?"
Ben didn't miss a beat. "I have to confess that I'm not very good with names, but I do remember that she is a countess, and she said that you have the best seat in the saddle of any woman in London."
Preening, Lady Clem decided that it might be great fun to learn western-style riding, and agreed to have her first lesson with Ben Avery the next morning at nine o'clock. When she turned back to Geoff, expecting to find him still gazing at that silly American girl, Clementine discovered that everyone else was starting off for a tour of the Indian Village.
With a wave, Ben left to catch up with Shelby and Johnny Baker, both of whom were engaged in conversation with the excited young princes. Geoff was waiting for Clementine. He leaned against the grandstand, off to one side, and when she approached, he cocked an eyebrow.
"Mr. Avery seemed quite taken with you, Clemmie."
"He was very kind." Her English complexion showed a bright spot of color on each cheek. "I had nearly forgotten that a man could behave toward me as if I were an attractive female."
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