"Everybody can feather their nest, but it's not just anybody that can lay an egg!"
After giving Bridget a reassuring smile, he addressed the dark-headed brat in a controlled but light-hearted manner, "My dear, I can assure that I have no bad designs on your friend. In fact, I am escorting her, with her guardian's permission, to meet my Aunt in the hotel.”
“Oh yeah? I bet that’s what they all say!” replied the suspicious Arabella, threading her arm protectively though Bridget’s spare one, creating a sort of human sandwich, with the redhead as the filling. “How ‘bout I come along and meet this so called Auntie, too?!” she added, calling the obvious masher’s bluff.
“If you wish you can join us. I'm sure my Aunt will be glad to be introduce you as well, Miss?"
“Mudd’s the name, Arabella Sumter Mudd. Miss. Oh, and I would just love to come along and meet this Auntie!” she said, clinging on to Bridget and suddenly getting worried that maybe he wanted her along too for his despicable orgiastic plans! She didn’t want to end up in a human sandwich of a totally different kind! Too late now, though, she’d burnt her bridges and her fierce Virginian pride wouldn’t let her back down now no matter how scared she was.
They walked into the hotel together, and Arabella looked around. The last time she had been in here was when Addy Chappel had dragged her out of the Ladies’ Meeting kicking and screaming. That seemed a lifetime ago, not days.
“Hmm, no sign of Auntie! Looks like you’ve been stood up, Mister!” said Arabella triumphantly, not realising that fine ladies didn’t meet their nephews in Hotel lobbies.
"Work is fine for killin' time, but it's a shaky way to make a living."
A frown quickly appeared and then disappeared off Ben's face. Did she honestly think that he was up to no good with Bridget? If that were the case he wouldn't be dragging her here to the only up-market establishment in the whole town. The only things he wanted to conduct here other than having a meal was to have some high stakes poker or blackjack games, providing his cousin Matt would let him, as well as the occasional business meeting. If he ever had a dalliance with a woman it would be at her lodgings or his own, which he didn't have at the moment and finding it now was number one on his list to do here.
"No, my aunt would in the dining room have a cup of tea and probably visiting with her son. Besides it wouldn't be proper for us to meet in the lobby," he paused for a moment as he looked at both of the girls. Maybe neither of them of didn't know what the etiquette for meeting publicly entailed. Crabbe certainly wouldn't have taught Bridget any of that and it was clearly that Miss Mudd had no idea either. Aunt Rebecca didn't know it now but soon she would have something to do.
"Shall we go and see my Aunt," he said in a light-hearted, "I think you and Miss Bridget will be pleasantly surprised.
"Everybody can feather their nest, but it's not just anybody that can lay an egg!"
"No, my aunt would in the dining room have a cup of tea and probably visiting with her son. Besides it wouldn't be proper for us to meet in the lobby,"
“Really?” hmphed Arabella, trying to cross her arms but, finding them entangled with Bridget’s, gave it up as a bad job. Bridget herself had never been in the grand hotel and just looked about in awe, her mouth gaping wide.
"Shall we go and see my Aunt," he said in a light-hearted, "I think you and Miss Bridget will be pleasantly surprised.
“We’ll be pleasantly surprised if she exists!” chided Arabella, but Bridget just nodded in compliance. The bellboy appeared and tried to take any hats, bonnets, shawls and so forth from the visitors to put in the cloakroom, for a generous tip, of course, but Arabella just shooed him away, like she was being bothered by a stray dog.
They walked through to the dining room and Arabella was interested to see a lady there who, she had to admit, looked like she might well be related to Bridget’s new ‘friend’. She wondered who his son was. The only man she could see around was Matt Wentworth, the hotel manager.
"Work is fine for killin' time, but it's a shaky way to make a living."
Ben approached his aunt with Bridget and Arabella in tow. He could see Matt talking to one of the waitresses and Rebecca sitting at one of the tables sipping on a cup of tea. His aunt rarely drank coffee and he hoped that she wouldn't find it too difficult to get it here in town. Kalispell was a long way from most places and so things would be harder to get here. As part of his investigations into the town, he would be checking if any of his favourite foods and drinks were available here. If they weren't then he would see if something could be done to make sure they were.
However, the first order of business was to leave the two girls with his aunt as soon as possible. Smiling, he leaned down, kissed his aunt's cheek before turning to introduce the ladies to each other. "Aunt Rebecca, may I have the honour of introducing you to two paragons of virtue...Miss Bridget Monahan and Miss Arabella Mudd."
He went over to his Aunt and stood by her side, "Miss Monahan and Miss Mudd, may I have the pleasure to introduce to you Mrs. Rebecca Wentworth."
"Everybody can feather their nest, but it's not just anybody that can lay an egg!"
However, the first order of business was to leave the two girls with his aunt as soon as possible. Smiling, he leaned down, kissed his aunt's cheek before turning to introduce the ladies to each other. "Aunt Rebecca, may I have the honour of introducing you to two paragons of virtue...Miss Bridget Monahan and Miss Arabella Mudd."
Bridget’s smile was warm and genuine, but Arabella’s was the narrow-eyed knowing grin of a cat. ‘Aunt Rebecca’ was probably the madam of some cat house that Mr Fancy pants was recruiting for. Yes, just look at her, dressed up all respectable now, sure, but, well, you could just tell that she was an evil old trollop underneath that veneer.
He went over to his Aunt and stood by her side, “Miss Monahan and Miss Mudd, may I have the pleasure to introduce to you Mrs. Rebecca Wentworth.”
WHAT?!! This was the Wentworth Brothers’ Ma?! Arabella’s knees buckled and Bridget, taking this as a sign she should curtsey, tried it and nearly took the pair of them down in a tumble. Somehow they righted themselves.
“Why, you’re Little Charlie’s Mama! O’ course!” grinned Arabella. “Oh, Mrs Wentworth, I know all your boys! Why, I’m the gal that helped Charlie come off the booze when he had his drinking problem, and I was just here with Matt the other day: you know he had this big party with all these ladies and they all got drunk on his spiked punch. I got dragged out o’ that so I missed the part where he started shooting holes in the ceiling.”
She stopped talking just long enough to take a breath.
“And Mike, he’s the one I been most intimate with, o’ course, after he did somethin’ for me which stopped me goin’ to Heaven, but I just dropped him after I caught him kissin’ and cuddlin’ with our saloon singer. I don’t know Sam too well, he don’t say much. Well, what do they say? ‘the quiet ones are always the worst’!” she laughed. Bridget smiled in silent agreement. That reminded the chatterbox Southerner of something:
“OH! And best of all, Bridget here is real intimate with your old man, 'Big' Charlie. Do you know, when she goes to the bank, she always goes straight into his office and stays in there the longest time chattin’ with him.” Again, the virtually dumb girl nodded confirmation. “You wouldn’t believe how much money she’s got in her account now, thanks to them little visits!” she added, informatively.