It's not a question of who's right. It's a question of what's right.
Mature Content: No
With: Matt Wentworth and others
Time of Day: Morning and Afternoon
Matt was looking over the last of the preparations for the event that was being held in the hotel's ballroom later that day. The Kalispell Ladies' Society were having a special afternoon tea and had invited a few speakers to come along. One of the invited was Leah Steelgrave, who Matt presumed was going to present her project for approval in the hopes of getting the ladies to influence their husbands and others about the benefits of having a hospital and orphanage. The spring dance at Horace Simkin's barn was last week and the town meeting to vote on whether or not to accept Miss Steelgrave's offer would be held in about a week or so.
In a way, he felt sorry for Leah. The Steelgrave name was proving to be more than just a hinderance. She was having a tough time proving that she was doing this on her own and that her father had nothing to do with it. The afternoon tea would be one of the few opportunities the lady would get to present her side.
As for the afternoon tea, it was coming along nicely. Ruth Johnson was busy organising the last of the seating and going over the guest list. When he told her about inviting a Miss Arabella Mudd to the party, Ruth had been a bit perplexed as she wasn't familiar with her. He told her that she was one of the survivors of Whitefish and Ruth seemed to be all right with that, mentioning something about being kind to the poor unfortunate souls who had survived the tragedy. Matt smiled at what she might have said if he had told her that Miss Mudd was now under the protection of the owners of the Stardust Saloon. He didn't have objections to it and Ruth probably wouldn't either but there would be one or two members of the Ladies Society that might.
Pulling out his watch, he noted the time. In about two hours, the room would be filled with women eating and chatting away. His plan was to spend the time in his office and be on hand just in case he was needed. However, he made a mental note that if Sarah turned up, he would make the time to say hello.
"Everybody can feather their nest, but it's not just anybody that can lay an egg!"
They had managed to put the finishing touches to her fancy-dress outfit at the very last minute, and Arabella could hardly contain her excitement as she looked in the mirror. The dress itself was one of Ms. Devereau’s hideously out of fashion 1874 models and was luckily the very shade of Union Blue that they needed, and they’d really only had to add a bit of military ribbon, and take it in to fit the 15 year old’s more ‘rangy’ figure (which, according to the tape measure, was getting a little less ‘rangy’ every day). Then there was the canteen itself, which Mr Flandry produced from somewhere or other.
The kepi was the hardest to obtain, and almost impossible to manufacture themselves, but a high-spirited conversation with an extremely drunken soldier from the fort, who had come into town to visit the telegraph office with a highly important and confidential military dispatch, resulted in a fair trade with Arabella’s sun-bonnet, complete with pink silk flowers, which the trooper wore back to camp and found on his aching head when he woke up in the Fort Jail the next morning.
The skirts of the costume were high, a Vivandière could hardly swan around the battlefield doing heroic, or rather heroine-like, deeds with her skirts trailing in blood and spilled intestines, after all. Mr Flandry had pointed out that some of these women had worn large baggy pantaloons under their skirts, but Arabella had thoughtfully wanted to spare her helpers the trouble of manufacturing these, and nobly opted to flirtatiously flash her ankles instead, all for the sake of historical veracity, of course.
She took one last look at herself in Ms. Devereau’s wonderful full length mirror and skipped downstairs and out to the ‘Event’.
"Smokey! Sic em, boy, sic em!"
Nellie Miggins had Matt Wentworth trapped in a corner, so there was no escape from the vitriolic complaints of the batty old woman who, to be honest, had never looked quite so batty as she did today. Apart from the white sheet (well, it had once been white) that was wrapped around her like a toga, she was sporting a bizarre spikey cardboard crown on her head, which made her look like a surprised person in a newspaper cartoon. Finally, she was carrying what looked like an enormous cardboard ice-cream. This was meant to be a symbolic torch.
She was somehow balancing all this with a large basket, and still managed to find a spare hand to cup to her ear to hear what the man was asking. Why couldn’t folks these days speak up nice and loud?
“What?! I’m meant to be Liberty of course! Whatd’ya THINK I’m supposed to be?! Now listen here young man, I was definitely told that this was a fancy dress do, and that there’s a prize fer the best outfit. And that’s me!”
She cocked her head.
“WHAT?! Oh – I’ll tell ya who told me that, it was that girl there. The one dressed like some slut of an Army camp follower!” said Mrs Miggins pointing to Arabella on the other side of the Hotel Ball Room, which had been rearranged to house the meeting of the Ladies Society.
Apart from Granny Miggins and Arabella, the only other person in fancy dress was a lumbering figure who was clad from head to foot in a bear costume or, to be precise, an actual bear skin, complete with head. It was hard to know what was inside the bear skin: Man? Woman? Bear?
Arabella herself was nonplussed. Not only were all the ladies then in boring everyday dresses, but they were all just that – ladies. There were no men or boys here. Perhaps the name Ladies Society should have given it away. Also, the rows of chairs for the audience made it clear that there would be no dancing.
There wasn’t a band anyway, just some fancy looking dude in the corner playing out a dirge on a ginormous fiddle. He didn’t even have it under his chin like a proper fiddle player, but was holding it between his legs, which, Arabella thought, was a disgraceful thing to do, especially with ladies present.
Oh well, at least she was having a nice chat with a lady that she’d never met before.
It's not a question of who's right. It's a question of what's right.
Matt patiently listened to Mrs. Miggins explanation on why she was dressed as she put it Liberty. He wondered how got to be in here in the first place. One minute he was making sure that the Ladies Society committee had everything under control and the next minute he had been bailed up by the older woman who was pointing to Miss Mudd and telling him that she was the one who had said it was fancy dress.
A frown appeared on his face. It seemed Miss Mudd had taken some liberties herself. For a moment, he thought about going over and give her a lesson about how not make assumptions without checking first but he decided not to. It was best that her employer deal with the situation.
"If there were a prize you certainly would be the winner, Mrs. Miggins. As for Miss Mudd, I think you better take up the matter with Matilda Devereau. She has taken on the responsibility of caring for the young girl. I have no doubt Miss Devereau will make sure that she doesn't do something like this again."
Quickly scanning the room, he could see Ruth Johnson frantically waving at him. Suppressing a sigh of relief, he smiled graciously at Mrs. Miggins, "Now, if you will excuse, Mrs. Johnson needs my assistance. I hope you will have an enjoyable afternoon."
Leah Steelgave came down the stairs from her rooms dressed elegantly, but then this was The Kalispell Ladies' Society. And, as women will, they would dressed to impress one another. Nature of the breast, she always said. But, when facing the ladies of Kalispell with a project that she hoped they would back, one played the game.
She could see that Mathew was quite busy, first, with the darling older woman with the pasteboard crown and the sheet wrapped around her as some sort of royal robe. And then with a woman she recognized as one Ruth Johnson, whether a Missus or not, she could not be certain, frantically waving to garner Mathews attention.
And then there was Arabella Mudd, whom she remembered from an earlier encounter. She was wearing what might pass for a military ensemble, speaking with another woman, in fact it seemed they were the only women present, so far. It was clear that the event was a ways off yet.
Leah had thought to enjoy a light lunch and some tea before the event began, thinking she might converse with Matthew before hand, but it seemed that he had his hands full at the moment, so into the restaurant she ventured.
It's not a question of who's right. It's a question of what's right.
After he had finished dealing with Ruth Johnson and her concerns over if there was going to be enough refreshments, Matt head towards the hotel restaurant. Even though some of the ladies had turned up early it would be a while before the proceedings got under way. No doubt the ladies who had come early would find plenty of things to do and talk about
Scanning the restaurant, he could see Leah Steelgrave sitting by herself at one of the tables. As the owner of the Belle, it was his duty to converse with the guests, especially the ones who paid for the more expensive rooms. He didn't mind mingling with the other guests and sometimes he preferred to but the more well endowed guests sometimes expected to be treated more royally.
On the surface, Leah seemed to a pleasant woman but it was underneath that concerned him. From what he knew of the Steelgraves since he had been living in Kalispell and what he knew about them from the dossier that the Secret Service had on them it didn't look good for Leah and her plans for the town. It also didn't help that she had her own personal bodyguards watching her every step. If she wasn't a Steelgrave, then the town would welcome her with open arms but she was and she had to live with whatever came her way because of it.
Going up to Leah, Matt smiled graciously, "Good afternoon, Miss Steelgrave."
Going up to Leah, Matt smiled graciously, "Good afternoon, Miss Steelgrave."
“Good afternoon Mister Wentworth. I’m somewhat early.” She replied with a smile. “I see everything is coming along in the other room, so we should have a good meeting, or rather they should. I will simply make the presentation about the project. Which might be too much." There was a catch to her breath. "I wish to apologize to you for the presence of my body guards. I have secured other accommodations in the form of a small house where I shan’t inconvenience you, your guests, or the staff.”
“Please, join me. I am just having tea while I wait, and I believe I should tell you that I do appreciate ll that you have done for me over the time you have had the hotel. But especially of late. I do know that your housing of me, and the men that look out for me, may well have put a strain on your business. It was certainly not my intention to cause you any problems.”
“You, of course, are well aware of my family. I understand that. And, that I am lumped in with them for better or worse, and worse is the most likely of outcomes. However, I suspect that what you know of me is not who I am, or of who I am trying to become. The weight of the family name is, as you might expect, a heavy one, but I seek no pity for that. Understand me, I intend to make my own mark I this world.”
It's not a question of who's right. It's a question of what's right.
Good afternoon Mister Wentworth. I’m somewhat early.” She replied with a smile. “I see everything is coming along in the other room, so we should have a good meeting, or rather they should. I will simply make the presentation about the project. Which might be too much." There was a catch to her breath. "I wish to apologize to you for the presence of my body guards. I have secured other accommodations in the form of a small house where I shan’t inconvenience you, your guests, or the staff.”
Part of him was relieved that Leah had found another place to live. Even though he understood why she needed to have them around, it wasn't a good look where the other guests were concerned, especially those who were leery of the mean looks they gave anyone who even dared to walk pass them.
“Please, join me. I am just having tea while I wait, and I believe I should tell you that I do appreciate all that you have done for me over the time you have had the hotel. But especially of late. I do know that your housing of me, and the men that look out for me, may well have put a strain on your business. It was certainly not my intention to cause you any problems.”
Seating down in the seat opposite Leah, Matt smiled, "Thank you. I wouldn't say that you staying here was the problem, it was more the men who you had guarding you that was. When you move to your new lodgings you are still more than welcome to come here and dine with us."
“You, of course, are well aware of my family. I understand that. And, that I am lumped in with them for better or worse, and worse is the most likely of outcomes. However, I suspect that what you know of me is not who I am, or of who I am trying to become. The weight of the family name is, as you might expect, a heavy one, but I seek no pity for that. Understand me, I intend to make my own mark I this world.”
Matt had no delusions that Leah wanted to make her mark and he had no doubt she would one day. However, her decision to do so in Kalispell might not be the right one. Still he wanted to help her out despite her family connections. The Wentworth men were always ones to help a lady out when needed.
"If you don't mind me asking, but why Kalispell? As you said I am well aware of your family. So is the whole town and every ranch and farm within one hundred miles of here. Even if the town council approves your plan it will always be an uphill battle for you. Maybe it would've been wiser to try this sort of thing in a place where they don't know you or your family."
"If you don't mind me asking, but why Kalispell? As you said I am well aware of your family. So is the whole town and every ranch and farm within one hundred miles of here. Even if the town council approves your plan it will always be an uphill battle for you. Maybe it would've been wiser to try this sort of thing in a place where they don't know you or your family."
“Oh, I suppose it would be the wise thing to do, leaving Kalispell. Yes, that would be the easy thing for me to do, however Mathew, the point of making my mark, or whatever the proper term might be, Kalispell is my home." She began.
"This family is known in every major city in the state. So that leaves me the choice of leaving Montana or, as I have chosen, to make my stand here, right in my gathers face, so to speak. I know it sounds like I am being the spoiled little rich girl having a meaningless tantrum. Far from it. He has his own problems of which I am not a party to."
"Kalispell has been kind to me, at least to this point. I realized that my father has been slow to act about the coming of the railroad, so I moved on it. Went to the provisional capitol, met with those in power, those that I know, and secured rights ahead of Elias , which would be his plan. Those rights are now in the hands of Judge Robertson and the Town Council, where they belong. Hopefully they will meet soon and approve my request for land to build the hospital and orphanage."
She smiled at him. "I know they are suspicious of anything with the Steelgrave name attached to it, and well they should be, Rest assured I am not an agent for my father. You may trust in that."
"Smokey! Sic em, boy, sic em!"
Nellie Miggins was nonplussed by the smarmy Mr. Matt Wentworth’s flimsy excuses about this not really being a fancy dress party and consequently, how there wasn’t a prize available for the person wearing the best costume – in other words, her! He’d swanned off in his fancy suit to hob nob with a bunch of snobby ladies no doubt, leaving 'Liberty' at her own liberty to amuse herself as best she could.
Well, there was a giant and ornate cut glass bowl of fruit punch on the table nearby, with glasses and a ladle to its side. Mrs Miggins decided to sample some of it. The face she made when it met her tongue was as sour as the beverage itself. It was unpalatably acidic and bitter for her tastes, and completely non-alcoholic. This party was looking more dour by the minute, especially as the room began to fill with what Granny thought of as ‘snobbish types’.
“This here punch could do with some sweetenin’!” she cackled to herself as she pulled, out of her capacious basket, a large jug of her very own, corn mash ‘chill tonic’. It’s alcohol content was off the scale, they’d need to invent a new 'un to measure what percentage proof it was. She surreptitiously pulled out the stopper and let the fiery liquid glug, glug, glug into the punch bowl, a look of superannuated mischief paying around her wizened face.
She tried another glass – much better! A burp, and she filled the glass again and took a seat on the front row of the arrayed seating, all the better to see the performers in the ‘show’ that was about to be presented for the benefit of the members of the Kalispell Ladies' Society. Also on the front row were sitting the Army Tramp and the Big Bear, the trio of them now presenting a sight that was enough to put off even the most seasoned speechifier on the roster that afternoon.