Wildblossom

by Wright, Cynthia

  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!

  "I beg your pardon!" Geoff said coldly, and tapped the interloper on the shoulder.

  "Oh!" Shelby cried. Her color was hectic. She came toward him and started to say, "Geoff, this is—"

  "I don't give a damn who he is!" the Duke of Aylesbury shouted in a deep voice, and with that he drove his fist into the man's jaw with such force that he sent him hurtling backward into a tapestry-upholstered settee.

  "Beast! That was the stupidest thing you've ever done!" she raged, scrambling over the wreckage. "This is Byron Matthews, my brother!"

  * * *

  "I don't know what came over me," Geoff apologized for the dozenth time. "It was a primal urge beyond anything I've ever known before."

  "Couldn't you have removed your signet ring first?" Byron asked in muffled tones. Lying on the sofa in the sitting room of Shelby's new suite at the Savoy, he was forced to keep an ice pack on his jaw and only speak through clenched teeth.

  "I thought you were a bloody Frenchman, trying to woo her away from me with a lot of foreign phrases." He bit his lip and glanced hopefully toward Shelby. "I was rendered temporarily insane. By love."

  "Stupid," she declared. "Idiotic. Infantile." Without looking at Geoff, she went to Byron's side and caressed his brow. "I have to go back to Earl's Court for my farewell performance this afternoon, but afterward I'll be coming back here for good. Will you be all right?"

  "Mmm." His eyebrows went up. "I guess so."

  "I'll go with you, darling," Geoff said to her.

  "No. I can't stand the sight of you at the moment! Just send someone over after four o'clock with a wagon or something to collect my things."

  He nodded, trying to look responsible. "All right. I'll mind your brother, then."

  Byron's eyes widened with mock terror. "No! Don't leave me alone with this madman!"

  In spite of herself, Shelby's lip quivered, but she bit back a giggle and said sternly, "Perhaps you've forgiven him, but I mean to think long and hard about the implications of this—this savage outburst! What might he do after we're married and it's too late for me to change my mind?"

  Geoff had done penance enough at this point. "I say, pouring it on a bit thick, aren't you?"

  "Be glad I'm even allowing you in the same room with my brother and me!" With that parting shot, Shelby exited with a flourish.

  "She hasn't changed a bit," Byron said through his teeth. "You're a hell of a brave man to take her on." He considered for a minute, then asked, "You don't have any plans to change her, do you? We've all tried since the day she was born, and I can promise you it doesn't work."

  Geoff laughed. "Absolutely no plans of that sort."

  "No?" He blinked. "Amazing."

  * * *

  Shelby's farewell performance with the Wild West Show was as dramatic and vivacious as the Little Trick Shooter herself. Throwing caution and impending duchessdom to the wind, she hammed for the capacity crowds and they roared their approval.

  Buffalo Bill Cody took over part of the time for Ben, throwing the glass balls as Shelby cycled around the arena, and even holding the target for her during the mirror shot. At last, when she nodded to him, the old showman announced to the audience:

  "Today, for her farewell performance, our wonderful Shelby will try one of the few tricks that has eluded her until now. Ladies and gentlemen, I ask that you give her your undivided attention as she now lays her shotgun on the ground, then attempts to pull the trap herself, then pick up the gun and fire it after the trap is sprung! Never before has Shelby accomplished this trick, even in practice!" Cody glanced at George Foehlinger, in the cowboy band. "George, a drumroll, if you please!"

  Shelby's heart was hammering as she took her place in the middle of the arena. It seemed that every member of the audience was leaning forward, wide-eyed. Realizing that they cared much more for her than for the silly trick, Shelby smiled warmly, swept off her boater, and made little curtsies to all sections of the grandstand. The people rose spontaneously.

  "Bravo, Shelby!" they cried. "We love you!"

  That meant a great deal coming from the characteristically reserved Britons, so she pressed her hand to her heart and threw them a kiss in return. Cody was standing a few yards away, and when Shelby glanced back at him, he chuckled.

  "Too bad you can't quit now, while you're ahead, little girl!"

  She hadn't felt much enthusiasm for the show in days, but now the old charge of adrenaline returned. This is my last trick! Listening to the drumroll, she let the rhythm come inside her and willed herself to be fast enough this time.

  The audience continued to stand, silent now.

  Shelby's eyes went over the steps to the trick. The gun was her new favorite: a 12-gauge, double-barreled shotgun with a short stock and a light trigger pull. It was just like one of Annie Oakley's own, and Cody had suggested it for Shelby, saying that it was perfect for a petite woman.

  But had she set it on the ground a half-inch too far away? No. No, this time she could do it, because she wanted it enough.

  When Shelby raised a finger, the drumming stopped. She then pulled the trap, got the gun into her hands, fired at the clay pigeon that was flying through the air—and hit her mark. It was nothing compared to the complicated and difficult tricks that had made Annie Oakley famous, but the audience adored Shelby and they cheered as if she had accomplished the most astonishing feat ever.

  The band struck up "In the Good Old Summertime" as she scampered around the arena, throwing kisses, then lightly ran back to her bicycle and pedaled away behind the curtain. Buffalo Bill could be heard trying to quiet the crowd, then he gave up and boomed, "Let's say good-bye one more time to our own Shelby Matthews. As you all know, this is her last performance. We'll miss her terribly, but we couldn't be happier that she is leaving us to become the bride of the Duke of Aylesbury!"

  She took off her boater before going back into the arena, and the spring sunlight burnished her long, braided hair. It seemed that Shelby had a radiance that made people feel close to her even though they were far up in the grandstand. The affection that poured down on her from these countless strangers brought tears to her eyes. Cody came to meet her, embracing her in front of the audience.

  "You've been a joy—and a help to the show, little girl." His white goatee tickled her cheek as he added, "We'll miss you."

  Johnny Baker, the other legendary sharpshooter, was emerging from behind the curtain to embrace her, and then Iron Tail and a parade of Indians, and the Whirling Dervish, and the Cossacks, the Hawaiians, and all the cowboys who had hidden their infatuations from Shelby. She began to cry openly, smiling at the same time.

  "We'll have to move this farewell party backstage so we can get on with the show, folks," Cody announced at last to the beaming spectators, "but I know you all wish Shelby as much luck in her new life as we all do—"

  Just then, a tall, d
evastatingly handsome man came down from the grandstand. His arms were filled with a magnificent bouquet of peach, pink, and white long-stemmed roses; perhaps three dozen or more. The crowd buzzed as he strode out into the arena and headed straight for Shelby. He walked with the graceful, aristocratic strength of a lion, and waves of whispering rippled through the audience.

  Shelby saw Geoff advancing toward her with a decidedly predatory gleam in his eyes. Her friends from the Wild West Show backed away as if it had all been planned, and she found herself all alone in the arena, blushing and uncertain as Geoff drew near. How magnificent he was! Wide-shouldered and lean-hipped in a dark blue frock coat with a crisp white shirt, he seemed to become more intensely appealing each day.

  It came to Shelby that this was the greatest gesture Geoff could have made: to stand beside her in the middle of the Wild West Show, before thousands of Londoners and dozens of newspaper reporters. Tears slid down her cheeks as Geoff put the roses into her arms.

  "Am I forgiven?" he murmured, smiling at her under his lashes.

  "Don't be silly." She buried her face in the fragrant blooms to hide her tears. "I love you."

  Then, to Shelby's shock, Geoff dropped to one knee in the dirt and bent his head before her. The crowd cheered louder than ever, and women could be heard sobbing over the din. Someone began to shout, "Long live the Duke and Duchess of Aylesbury!" and the audience took up the chant.

  "You are the most amazing man," she said, and ran a hand over his hair. "Do, please, get up."

  He kissed her hand instead, then rose in one lithe movement and smiled down at her. Shelby proudly took his arm. Colonel Cody came forward to escort the couple from the arena, the cheers and good wishes of the audience echoing after them as they disappeared behind the curtain.

  Backstage, all the other performers crowded around to congratulate them and bid Shelby good-bye, but they had to let go because the show was still in progress. Finally, the duke and his bride-to-be walked together back to the camp village.