"Mr. Stone, how nice to see you again." Elizabeth shook his hand warmly. "I think we've found someone you'll be interested in."
"Does he know anything about my request?" he asked.
"No nothing at all," she replied He's doing all this for me."
"That's good," he agreed. "I have my own plans. How will I recognize him?"
"That's for you to work out. After all, if your plans are going to work..." Elizabeth left the sentence unfinished.
William Stone walked to the dresser where he poured two glasses of red wine. He had already changed into the clothes of the period, in his case an expensively tailored suit just like the railroad owner of old, whose rooms he now occupied. Although he was well over fifty, his body was slim and tanned, his grey hair precisely cut and groomed. As a newspaper proprietor, he had been able to control what was written about him, thus the image of the eligible man playing the field stuck, despite his years. His penchant for glamorous dates was legendary, and he was seldom alone, seemingly to prefer to change partners regularly. He handed a glass to Elizabeth and raised it.
"Here's to a successful transaction," he said. "I hope you haven't made it too easy."
"Wait and see." Elizabeth sipped her drink slowly.