[Jedidiah] Jedidiah Bargold is an aging man. This is evident in the way he walks, which is with a dignified, carefully erect carriage, in the way he speaks, which is in a deep, compelling bass rumble, and in the way he looks. Dark hair is cut fairly short and pulled back, just starting to grey at the temples. Piercing grey eyes seem to scowl, and the set of his mouth does not indicate otherwise. His expression is set, the lines on his face deep. He is a man of only medium height, but fairly impressive build; large, strong hands, a new shirt rolled up just to the elbow, as if he was about to start a game of poker. This is a man who plays to win, and makes sure the deck is in his favor. Bargold is neatly attired in fancy dress that must have cost a not inconsiderable sum of money. He looks born to it, with a sort of nonchalant elegance that bespeaks distinct boredom.
Payne is seated on one of the benches of the porch smoking a pipe. He doesn't stand when you arrive.
Bargold steps up onto the porch, face creasing into a friendly smile. "Good evening." His voice is gruff, accustomed to command, and he doesn't bother to extend a hand.
Puff. Puff. Nod. Payne looks Bargold over carefully, sizing the man from head to toe before he answers in a voice laced with a thick French accent, "You must be Monsieur Bargold."
Bargold answers in an equally strong Englishly-accented French, "And you must be the offerer of invitations." He doesn't seem particularly interested in your answer, already glancing around.
Payne enjoys another puff of the sweet smelling tobacco before answering in English. "Of sorts. Monsieur Quintan actually has that honor." He squints towards the road and then pulls a watch from his pocket. He scowls.
Bargold looks distinctly bored, and finally simply offers an absentminded nod. "Yes." And he's late, but Bargold is having a good day, and will therefore concede another five minutes.
Finding the wait tedious as well, never mind that the man has been awaiting this dinner all evening, Payne finally stands and introduces himself, "Marcel Payne."
Jaime walks in, starting to adjust in the formal suit. He used to manage it all the time without a problem, but the last few years in the west have spoiled him.
[Jaime] He's the stereotypical hot-tempered Scot. You find him red-headed, blue-eyed, and big. He's got a nasty temper, and has been known to shoot off at the mouth at little provocation. Now a married man in his thirties, he has had practice and success at controlling his temper. A respectable soup strainer moustache now overhangs his lips. He looks dashing in a new black suit of formal cut and his best waistcoat, a paisley black on black. His watch chain drapes across his front in a arc of fine gold links. The tie he wears today is crisp white and nary a speck of the ubiquitous brown dust of Maddock. Although bundled against the cold in a fleece lined coat, his smiling face shows a plethora of his insouciant charm.
[Madeline] She is all at once fuller of face, and on the too-thin end of things, for her current state. Standing at 5'6", she still draws the eye, being above the height of many other town ladies, and eyes of deep sapphire blue are still the first indicators of her mood. Hair of amber-gold is turned under into a thick and soft curl of hair, then pinned to the rest, keeping all but a few stray wisps from falling below her collar. Her blouse is a warm blue cotton affair, with a high neck, and long sleeves that button tightly about her wrists, a tiny cameo necklace draped around a long neck. Her skirt is a dark, midnight blue, made of heavy fabric, and lain over layers of petticoats. Layers, however, do not hide the pronounced rounding of her middle that give away the signs of pregnancy. Though her smile is ever-present, it is sometimes less than before. There are two bands of gold, one with a stone, on her left hand ring finger.
Bargold regards Payne for a few long moments before offering a nod, absently reaching into the pocket of his suit before remembering that he quit cigar smoking. His attention turns to Jaime.
Jaime extends his hand. "Jameson MacClaine and my wife, Madeline." He grins a little wryly at her.
Madeline waddles along with Jaime, looking still a little red in the face. All this travelling around can take it's toll on one's body, you see, gents. Still, she smiles, albeit uncertainly. "Good evening, gentlemen."
Bargold shakes hands with Jaime, nodding. "Jebediah Bargold. Pleasure." His grip is decidedly firm, and he bows slightly to Madeline.
Jaime explains, "Sorry we're late but there are some things in nature that cannot be hurried. Getting nine women pregnant won't make a baby in one month, you know."
Madeline just /looks/ at Jaime at that comment. What? She clears her throat a bit, and asks, "Have you been waiting long? I'm certain that Karl wouldn't mind if we waited just inside.."
Payne takes Bargold's small snub in stride and turns to the two new arrivals, "Ah, yes. The MacClaines. I have heard much of you both." His eyes solely on Madeline. He glances at Jaime briefly, his mouth askew in response from the man's gibberish. A small ahh sound to cover his dismay before turning towards the door, "Shall we go in. Mr. Challows has already arrived." And is drinking Monsieur Quintan out of home and ranch.
Bargold just looks at Jaime, steadily, not bothering to comment before turning and opening the door for Madeline. "Ma'am?"
Madeline nods her thanks, and waddles in through the front door.
Madeline strides off towards front door of the large ranch house.
Bargold simply follows, not bothering to hold the door for the others.
Bargold strides off towards front door of the large ranch house.
Payne motions Jaime inside, "After you."
Jaime nods. "Rightio!"
Jaime hurries off towards front door of the large ranch house.
You stride towards front door of the large ranch house.
Courtyard - Twin Hills Ranch
Now there's a face that Maddie often wished she didn't have to see, but has found herself missing. "Good evening, Consuela," she says, with a bright smile.
Payne just keeps talking as they enter the courtyard, "I hope the travel over from town wasn't too long."
Consuela waits quietly, watching Payne.
Bargold glances around, appraising the architecture, the artwork, the room. He has a mildly bored expression upon his face.
Jaime raises his voice a little louder to answer Payne. "There are times one isn't ready to rush out of town."
Payne states to all and none, "Monsieur Quintan will be joining us shortly." Still, who needs him, Payne seems quite comfortable playing host. "Consuela, we will join Mr. Challows in the Parlor for a drink, you may tell the cook to let us know when he is ready to serve."
Apparantly Payne wasn't overly concerned enough about the trip to await an answer.
If pressed, Jaime might have said his formalwear was packed in preparation for their trip. You'd have to ask 'what trip?' to get a better answer.
Consuela nods quickly, offers a faint curtsy to Madeline then scurries out of the room.
Consuela heads towards the small set of stairs and the ranch proper.
Madeline speaks quietly to Jaime for a moment.
Payne opens his arms in a sweeping (herding) manner and motions the trio inwards, "Mrs. MacClaine, if you would be so kind as to lead us into the parlor."
Bargold begins to grow mildly irritated, but conceals it well. Still, there is a slight tightening of the shoulders, a preoccupied expression.
Payne seems oblivious to Bargold's irritation, it wasn't his idea to invite the man.
Madeline can't help but smile a bit. "Absolutely," is the answer to Jaime's comment, and then she nods to Payne, reservations returning as she waddles on.
Madeline walks off towards the small set of stairs and the ranch proper.
Bargold's right hand slides into his pants pocket, that nonchalance returning in mere moments.
Of course, Jaime must accompany his wife and soon follows.
Parlor - Twin Hills Ranch
Mr. Randall Challows is seated in one of the overstuffed chairs. He has a drink in one hand and the rosy spotches on his cheeks indicate it's not the first. He stands as the other arrives. "Good Evening!"
Payne crosses to the liqueur cabinet pausing to make a clicking sound with his tongue, "Madame MacClaine.." He starts in a loud voice to over power the boisterous Mine Owner, "May I offer you some tea?"
Madeline moves back to Jaime's side, sliding an arm through Jaime's, and leaning against him. Maddie, who is not normally shy around men, even strangers, feels a little cowed by this whole event. "Yes, please."
Jaime saunters over from the hallway.
Bargold finds a chair that he deems acceptable and sits, looking entirely at ease.
Not one to wait for introductions, Challows moves towards Bargold extending a calloused hand, "You must be Bargold."
Payne nods, glancing at Consuela who exits quickly. "Drinks Gentlemen?"
Jaime patpats Madeline's hand as he settles it at the crook of his arm. He stands casually nodding and looking about almost bored, mirroring some of Bargold's earlier nonchalance.
Bargold stands again, nodding and extending a hand. "Yes." A friend smile. "And you are...?"
Challows looks pleased that he guessed right, course he already knows who the mayor is so that really narrowed the choices. "I'm Randall Challows." This is stated matter of factly, and a touch too much enthusiasm. "Glad to finally make your acquaintance." Course, why wouldn't he be. He's been trying to get Bargold to invest in his mine for months.
Bargold nods, agreeably. "Certainly." He knows a potential sucker when he sees one. "A pleasure to meet you, Mister Challows."
Payne glances at Jaime and repeats, having gained no answer to his earlier inquiry, "Drinks Gentlemen?"
Consuela returns with Madeline's tea.
Jaime nods accepts of the drink offer. This is an age for the hard drinking man. He's just emulating the President, right?
Bargold glances at Payne, momentarily. "No." And he turns his attention back to the man of the hour.
Challows gives a contented chuckle, a man who thinks he has an ace up his sleeve. "No yet Payne. I already got one I'm working on." He towards the Mayor and his wife. Despite his state of intoxication he manages not to impolitely stare at the protruding burden the woman carries. "Mayor And Mrs. MacClaine."
Madeline puts on her best Quintan -- or is that MacClaine -- smile, and nods a little, at Mr. Challows. All right. Now that introductions have been made, why are they all here? And where's Karl? Maddie lets go of Jaime's arm to waddle toward Consuela, and serve up her own tea.
Jaime won't deny his identity. He's got nothing to hide from. Suspiciously though he grudgingly only nods his head.
Payne mimicks Bargold behind his back. "Non." He snorts then pours a drink for himself and the Mayor, offering it with a flair. "I think you will enjoy this whiskey, I had is shipping in special." And at a hefty price.
Jaime murmurs, "We'll excuse your French."
Challows isn't one to wait until their elusive host arrives to get down to business, he starts right in on Bargold, "You were out of town for a bit weren't you. Did you get my correspondence about the Lady Luck?"
Bargold regards Challows, mildly. "No." This is a big night for negatives.
"No!?" His voice carrying his loud exclamation to every corner of the room. (Yup, the dinner from hell) "Well hell and darnation..." He nods to Madeline, even managing a blush. "Pardon me."
Jaime asks in an interrupting bark, "Were we dragged here to be asked to invest in some damn gaming parlor?"
Madeline manages not to spill her tea as she flinches a bit. Wisely, perhaps, she chooses to sit, with the teacup balanced on her disappearing lap. "I'm certain we'll be told why we were invited, Jaime. After all, noone likes to be kept waiting overly long.."
Payne senses the tension growing and places himself between Challows and Jaime, "Non, Non.." He offers a tense laugh, "Monsieur Quintan specifically requested his family. I'm sure he will join us shortly." He glances towards the Hall.
"It leads," Bargold says, picking up Madeline's sentence, "To a poor temper and an unwilling spirit."
Jaime glances belatedly at his wife and amends, "Dang. Dang gaming parlor." Not so much for her ears, but because he assumes she'd prefer him on his best behavior.
Consuela heads towards the hallway.
Madeline's brow furrows, and her gaze travels unerringly to Challows and Bargold, before she asks, of the Frenchman, "Family?" Karl's family doesn't include those two, does it?
Jaime bops his head to Bargold and smiles. He looks for the aforementioned whiskey, "Small chance that poor spirits will sooth my unwilling temper."
Bargold turns his attention to Payne. Jed most devoutly hopes it doesn't.
Challows continues, directing this at Bargold and ignoring Jaime and his absurd notions altogether. He does however lower his voice a notch, "I ain't talking about a gaming parlor here, I'm talking a vein of silver the runs from here clear to Selby."
Karl saunters over from the hallway.
Jaime squints his eyes in sudden pain at the remainder of the potential for being related to the Bargolds. He hopes Amanda recovers from her bout of lunacy.
Karl enters, having overheard the tail end of Challows statement, he tsks. "Now Randall, I thought you promised to save that kind of talk for after dinner. You must be boring my poor daughter to tears."
Bargold half smiles at Challows. "Or perhaps gold, don't you think?" Fools gold. He finds the idea entertaining.
Challows snorts, "Ain't no gold in Montana, least not the kind that's worth mining for." He suddenly looks affronted, "Mr. Bargold, I've been mining for 20 years, and my family for 30 years before that. You think me a charlatan?"
Madeline's eyebrows lift. Karl? In a tuxedo. Was he dressed that nicely at the wedding? For that matter, was that really a wedding? Ah well. Concerns for other nights. Her tea goes forgotten for the moment, however. "Good evening, Karl." Spoken quietly, and quite possibly lost in mining talk. Bored? One never knows..
Jaime opens his eyes, although not necessarily his mind. "You said it, not me."
Jaime grins for Karl but closes his mouth. He nods and waits, listening without much hope of interest.
Karl steps up to Jaime and Madeline. He leans forward and steals a swift kiss to Madeline's cheek before nodding... good god civily even.. to Jaime. "Jaime."
Payne lingers towards the outer side of this oddly picked circle, observing.
Bargold is amused. "I think nothing of the sort. I think proclimations are a dime apiece, hard facts far further between." He turns his attention to Karl, eyebrows drawing together slightly. "Mister Quintan."
Jaime will respond to that though. Carefully matching the tone, he replies, "Karl." He beams at the others. I got greeted civilly by god. I mean Karl.
Karl turns and nods towards Bargold, "Bargold, it is good to see you again. I am glad you could make it." There is a twinkle in his eye, but what he is planning who knows. "I hope my Man of Affairs has been hosting you well?" Beat that, Bargold... I have my own Man of Affairs now, imagine that.
Bargold shrugs, noncommittally. "I have some free time on my hands, and your invitations coincided with a free moment."
Karl states, "Convenient then." He offers an amiable nod towards Challows then turns his attention back on Madeline, "How are you?"
Challows finds he needs to refill his drink.
Madeline smiles, fingers curled around the handle of the teacup. "I'm doing well, I think." She adds somewhat self-consciously, "I'd meant to come and talk to you soon. You look well. Is that so?"
Karl nods, "As well as can be expected." He glances at Jaime, "You are taking care of my daughter and grandson well I hope." An order if one is ever given, lightly blanketed in a smiling inquiry.
Finding Bargold free again, Challows sidles up to him. "Hydraulics."
Jaime watches Karl and Madeline with narrowed eyes but smoothing them blandly when Karl turns his way. "No. I'm planning to drag her on an extended stagecoach ride and see what kind of quacks and charlatans hang a doctor's shingle in Great Falls."
Bargold raises an eyebrow at Challows. "An interesting field." That's about all he wants to say about that. What the hell is he here for, anyway? The irritation returns.
Karl stiffens, the calm before the storm... then it never comes. He looks concerned however, "Is that truly safe?"
Challows sighs, how could he ever think a man who has probably never worked a day in his life would understand, "That's how I intend to get the silver out. Yields ten times the daily pull from the mine and half the miners."
Madeline explains, with a glance at Jaime, "With Doctor Webster gone, Jaime thought it best, Karl.."
Jaime shakes his head. "Nothing is truly safe anymore. Especially without Doctor Webster in town for her time." He shrugs, trying to shake the weigh of responsibility he feels for dragging her off.
Karl pats Madeline's hand as if he thinks this is some soothing comforting gesture, "Well, you may take my private coach of course." Karl has a private coach?
Bargold raises an eyebrow, contemplating it. "Charted out operating and installation expenses? Got to keep them stabilized and find a constant power source. And if you keep digging, it'll keep needing relocating."
Madeline blinks a few times. Karl has a private coach? "Uhm. Well. That's.. kind of you. Isn't it, Jaime?"
Challows nods, seeing that Bargold is getting the idea, "Operating Expenses. Not a problem, I got fifty men outside the Mine Camp begging for work and an unending water supply from the Smith River. What I need is the machinery."
Jaime would respond to Karl, but he's finding the other conversation interesting now. He only nods, glances at Madeline and blinks at her. Then he turns to add, almost too quietly, "It took months to get machinery for my stamping mill here by wagon train. We need a railroad."
Payne clears his throat and steps into the circled gathering, "I believe they are ready to serve now."
Bargold sits down, thinking about it. "Expensive machinery. Have to be shipped in from Philadelphia." Where Bargold has some interest in a plant, mind you... "I'll get someone to look at the mine." Because Bargold believes in weighting his bets.
Once an overeager warm man suddenly becomes cool at the assumptive manner Bargold projects, "Well, yes. Course, I have a few interested parties interested in forming an investment group."
Madeline sips tea. This is going to be a loooong night, isn't it? She repeats, for Karl's benefit, "It really is kind of you."
Karl overhears Jaime's last word even as he's walking towards the Hall and the dining room across from it, "Railroad eh? Any news on it coming near us?" He motions towards the hall, "Come daughter, we mustn't starve my grandson."
Bargold nods, faintly. "Pleased to hear it. I'll save the money." He turns his attention to Quintan senior, standing.
Madeline takes a last sip, and sets the cup aside on an end table, levering herself out of the chair she chose. Bad choice, Maddie.
Challow blanches a little, course it is hardly noticeable under the polished red blush caused by the whiskey. He brushes past Karl murmuring a few words before heading towards the dining room.
Karl glances at Jaime when Madeline has difficulty. Well... help her man.
Jaime grows a wicked grin. "As I once explained to Mrs. Brandt, New Yorkers don't have the influence in Washington that those in Philadelphia do." He only notices to help Maddie after it is too late.
Karl hmms contemplatively, "You are from Philadelphia, are you not, Bargold?" Hmmm.
Bargold half smiles after Challow. Chomp. ByeBye, minnor. He turns his attention to Jaime, sketching the barest hint of a bow. "Philadelphia seems to attract influence." Poorly falsified surprise. "Why yes, Quintan. That I am."
Karl laughs. Imagine the coincidence. Flippantly and not entirely serious
(maybe) he offers, "Why not have Bargold get you your railroad, Mayor."
Jaime holds on to his smile a bit tightly as he nods. "Of course, I married outside of my family's wishes to a lady from Philadelphia. For *solely* that reason, I'm sure."
Payne trails in behind the others immediately pulling a chair out for Madeline, "Here you are Mrs. MacClaine." He points about the table, offering each man his seat. Karl at one head, Jaime at the other. Interesting.
Bargold chuckles, rubbing at the side of his face while thinking. "I'm not sure purchasing a railroad would really be all that lucrative." Maddock just doesn't seem like a great vacationland. Really. He drifts towards the dining room.
Madeline manages her own way into the dining room, and the offered seat, with a thankful smile for Mr. Payne. Married for Philadelphia influence, Jaime? The type of influence /Maddie/ has there won't get you points in Washington.
Karl adds a little wood to the brewing fire, "Really? And here I thought you married her for her money." Least he appears to add a humourous jesting tone to his voice.
Bargold doesn't, oddly enough, seem to particularly mind being seated out of the way. He's gathering information that otherwise seems to take forever to accumulate.
Jaime eyes Payne with a sour expression. But then he thinks this might save him for kicked shins. "Money. That's right. I forgot. I married her solely for money." At a sudden thought, Jaime grins at Bargold. "Maybe I should have held out for someone else? I believe you've other unmarried daughters, don't you Mr. Bargold?" Josephine or Georgina? Splendid
Challow pipes up after settling into his chair next to Bargold, he seems to have gained wind from his fourth drink, "Don't need a railroad to get my machinery here. What I need is a few business minded men looking to gain a little profit." He glances towards Karl, "Like Mr. Quintan here."
Madeline is not amused. But she smiles anyway. That Smile. The Perfect One, that is entirely false.
Payne takes a seat once Karl does, at his right side. He seems quiet now, surely not missing a single uttered word.
Bargold just smiles at Jaime. "If you would like to marry Josephine, you're welcome to her. I would suggest waving a bible."
Madeline clears her throat delicately, and directs at Bargold, with That Smile in place, "Mr. MacClaine is married, Mr. Bargold. Though the .. offer.. does not go unappreciated, I'm certain."
Jaime grins smugly. "Oh dear. If I touch a bible I might vanish in a puff of smoke." He waits for a pause and redirects with one word: "Profit?"
Karl laughs, but chokes it off with a cough. He wouldn't curse his worse enemy with a blathering woman like Josephine. He sends a shushing look towards Challows then relents, "He's right of course, I have decided to place some money into this Hydraulics business. I was hoping to extend the same opportunity to you, Bargold."
Bargold turns his attention to Madeline, inclining his head. "I doubt Josephine would accept it, madam." And he turns his attention to Karl, thoughtfully. "How very generous of you, Quintan."
Karl smiles. Isn't it? He leans back as Consuela rounds the table with a plates overladden with food. Roast beef, mashed potatoes, vegetables. While prepared with great care and surely the meal of a rancher, it doesn't quite fit with the black tie motif.
Bargold hides a smile, finding it reminiscent of some sort of odd nightmare. You're in a dustball of a town, and all the muckety mucks make you dress up to eat mashed potatoes....
Payne also seems displeased with the fare, but he does well not to voice the very descriptive complaints running through his mind.
Waiting until all have a plate in from of them Karl looks towards Madeline, "Would you care to say Grace?"
Payne glances sharply at Karl, dinner with the Waltons?
Madeline gives that look to Karl now. The one she gave Jaime earlier. The 'what?' look. At a loss for a moment, she nods a little, and folds her hands before her, studying her fingers. Uhm. Ah yes. "We thank you, for the food we are about to eat. For.." Uhm. "Pleasant company, and for our health. Amen."
Bargold takes a gamble - a careful one - and says to Payne, in French, "Not, perhaps, the fare to which you might be accustomed?"
Jaime sits quietly through grace, letting his mind wander to thoughts about a mention of whiskey. Did that ever materialise? Maybe apres meal.
Bargold humbly says, after the comment, "Amen."
Karl smiles then begins to eat, glancing at Bargold when he address Payne. "You speak French?" His surprise is hardly out of character since Karl has to work hard at speaking proper English.
Payne nods, responding in his mother tongue, "I am working to change the man, but one cannot... what is the American saying.. sew a silk purse from a sow's ass."
Bargold nods, gravely. "I prefer to read French writers in their native tongue," he says, glancing at Payne and nodding, politely. "Amen," he repeats, reverently.
[After Dinner]
Karl leans back in his chair, allowing Consuela to serve the round of coffee and leave the room before he breaks the after dinner silence. "Well, Bargold, I certainly hope you will consider the investment. Payne here has certainly convinced me it is a sound one."
Bargold takes a sip from his coffee cup, turning his attention deliberately to Jaime. "And what would your advice be, if I were to ask it?"
Challows offers a small snore from his chair. He slipped into sleep just after they cleared his plate, from which he had two servings.
Bargold carefully sets his cup back down upon the table, thinking during the time afforded him.
Jaime gathers a breath. "I won't advise anything without looking at the gift horse's teeth."
Payne stands quietly and moves towards one of the china hutches. Navigating it with ease he withdraws a bundle of documents from the top drawer.
Karl chuckles off Jaime's suggestion, "By all means the Mine is open for inspection, I have viewed it myself a few times before I agreed to invest."
Payne places the bundle in front of Karl murmuring something to him.
Bargold chuckles, quietly. "I think the sentiment is exceptionally sensible." And he turns a mild eye to Karl. "Of course, Quintan. And I assume..." Glancing towards Payne, he raises an eyebrow, slightly. "Projections?"
Jaime shrugs. "Then why bother with my advice? I can't tell how far a vein runs by looking at it and I'm fully invested already." He adds a snarl to that final sentence, but it isn't easy to say who or what it was directed at.
Karl listens then abruptly appears all business again, "Yes, yes why don't you come by later this week and I will show you what we have come up with, eh Bargold?" He pulls the ties on the bundle, opening the papers, "Now, I usually wouldn't get into this so quickly, but as Marcel has pointed out the hour grows late and my daughter wearier with each hour." He stands, looking pointedly at Bargold, "I have a few family matters to discuss with my Son-In-Law." He offers a hand to Bargold.
Payne awakens Challows and helps him into the foyer, Randall murmuring something about finding his hat and having had a great evening.
Bargold rises to his feet, looking at Karl without a great deal of interest. "I'm sure." He shakes hands perfuctorily, then turns to sketch a bow to Madeline and extend his hand to Jaime. "It was a pleasure dining with you, sir."
Bargold walks out, a lazy, indulgent smile on his face while he shakes his head towards you, clearly amused.
Payne is smoking his pipe again, he motions towards it then the night air above. "Always seems to be better out of doors, must be that country air, non?"
Bargold just raises an eyebrow. "Perhaps. I find it rather dusty, although it seems to have done Samantha a world of good."