Of course, my short interlude to ponder approaches to the patent opportunity was interrupted far before I wanted it to be. Mrs. Byrne was there to escort me back to my new conference room, where she had a guest waiting for me. I was clueless about who it could be and curious about the need for privacy. My runners from the different teams had been sent directly to me at the bar; that shortened the list of who might be waiting for me.

I was stunned to be introduced to a well-dressed and attractive woman who appeared to be about my age. Mrs. Byrne introduced me to the widow Grace Langdon. Mrs. Langdon’s late husband had been a banker at the 2nd US Bank and had met an unfortunate end on a business trip to New York. To travel long distances in the early nineteenth century was risky business. Until the train lines were fully established, a trip back east could easily last three months, start-to-finish. A lot of dangerous things can happen in three months’ travel time.

Greeting rituals were completed and Mrs. Byrne quickly got to the point.

“Mrs. Langdon has found a fiscal shortage in the family accounts and is in need of a boarder to offset that shortage. She has a small but fine estate and a delightful home. I would prefer that you stay there during your visits, rather than that horrid place they call a hotel.”

It sounded like a decree more than a recommendation; I did feel a little rebellious at the implied responsibility. A beautiful and cultured woman can make that feeling fade quickly and Grace Langdon did so with a smoothness worthy of her name. She quickly pulled me into conversation, beginning with the well-appointed room provided for our meeting by the gracious Mrs. Byrne. I turned to smile at Mrs. Byrne, only to find that she had magically disappeared, leaving us alone together. Very suspicious, if you ask me. I was being lured in, like a helpless hungry fish. Damned women.

Suddenly, we were talking about the pommes frittes and what a magnificent new recipe it was. She had tasted them earlier and was astounded by the simple yet rewarding flavors. I was a bit taken aback by the effusive praise; I had to remind myself that the modern world offered us endless varieties of everything available on our handheld computer/phone.

Mrs. Byrne chose that moment to return with a serving of aforementioned treats and a variety of sauces to dip them in. Apparently, she was having a good time experimenting with this new dish. I asked for another round of beer, and dug in to snack. I listened to Widow Langdon describe the estate and various maintenance issues she was struggling with. Since her problem was money, I was starting to view this as more of a business proposition than a housing option.

My watch told me that the ‘Gretzky’s’ would arrive soon, so I let her know that I was expecting some old friends for supper and invited her to join us. I explained that I would prefer some private time when they first arrived to catch up, and if she could provide us a quarter-hour of privacy, it should be a fun supper. I would tour her house when supper was over. She had shifted to wine, so we drank a toast just as my visitors arrived. Mrs. Langdon took her leave and I greeted my new ‘slaves’ with a big smile.

I sat them down and got right to the point. “Mr. and Mrs. Wayne Gretzky we need to get our story straight, arrow-straight, and I envision something like this.”

“We met at a social function in Cairo while you were preparing for a trade trip to New Orleans. You were shipwrecked in an awful gale in the Gulf and ended up here, where I happily redeemed my friends and allowed them to return to society at their proper station.”

I finished my initial proposal and sat back to observe their reaction. They seemed confused and I wondered how long they’d been here as slaves. I explained the entire story concept to them. They were obviously over-educated, yet not the leadership type unless they had direction. But I still needed them. I focused on what I needed from them.

“You each need an education and social rank backstory. You have to be close family members of a powerful African nation. We should build collaborative backstories that explain you and your education. Minor African tribal titles would help, if you recall any from your studies. I’ll get you dressed for the part tomorrow.

“Now the widow Langdon shall return and you need to stick with the 'Cairo then shipwreck' story I gave you. We’ve got a couple minutes to describe our meeting in Cairo so each of you come up with something where we meet and become good friends.” Time was starting to get short and I wanted this to be a successful gambit.

“Sadly, you will need to continue to using back doors until I have you dressed properly. But if you two can figure out Cairo, I can handle it from there.” With that I got up and headed for the toilet to clean up a little, while they sorted out their background. Amos was in the kitchen as I passed through. We had a brief word and I sent him to help them with their stories. I’d try to find the widow and buy them some more time.

The outhouse stunk but was a relief, and washing up under the pump was refreshing and reviving. I was ready for an espresso and then a light supper. Fries are heavenly but they are a heavy snack when made correctly.

As I approached the back door again, I noticed Widow Langdon on a bench swing in the yard. I decided to intrude on her solitude. I gently and silently took a seat on her slowly-moving swing and we spent a quiet minute just swinging together in silence.

When she finally spoke, she said, “I was watching you. I have been watching you for the last two days. You are an interesting man, Mr. Narrater.”

“I’m actually a boring person, dear lady, to whom interesting things have happened. Our guests for supper are a fine example. I first met them in Cairo whilst serving, if I recall correctly. They were members of the court of some local dignitary. To find them here and in such a state was quite surprising.” I paused for effect.

“My plan is to dress them properly tomorrow. I know where to take him, but I’m unsure what I can do for her. We should join them soon, though,” I finished.

I felt a gentle hand on my arm and she said, “I can see to the lady’s garb first thing tomorrow. And I’d be delighted to join you for dinner with them.”

Mission accomplished. I had played it correctly.