[[To Trust a Stranger]] ...Eternity and Lady Ananas...

[Lady Ananas]

Benedict turned his head, his slate gray eyes combing briefly over Dana. He still was rather fond of that dress on her, though nothing more than the fleeting gaze would say so. Mrs. Winchester dipped her head respectfully as Dana entered the room, and looked up at the woman from her lower height. "He was just comin' about breakfast, miss." she said with a smile on her graying face.

Benedict's eyebrows quirked and he turned back to Mrs. Winchester. "Would you see to that the meal is prepared? William is outside with Dana's things." Mrs. Winchester dipped into a shallow curtsy, and shuffled off, Dana in tow, to see to the preparation of the food. Benedict padded outside to the round faced blond, who had, as promised, brought Dana's luggage without a problem. It was all unharmed, and nothing was missing, which Benedict made sure of.

"And you experienced no trouble?"

"No, sir." William said softly. "All went according to plan."

"Very good, William." Benedict lifted the bags, and looked down at William. "She still has not seen you. Has she?" William wanted to know as the dark haired man turned to go. There was a long silence. "No." he said darkly, and then without another word in his direction, re-entered the inn with Dana's things, and a bag of his own.

[Eternity]

Taking a slow breath, Dana redirected her attention away from Benedict. He was not a hard man to get lost on. A beautiful golden shell of a man, holding some deep riddle beneath his thick guard. But every time Dana tried to think of him like a shelled man with great secrets, she felt stupid. What was wrong with her? He was just a man, nothing more and nothing less.

Tearing her hazel hues towards the shorter woman, she followed diligently in the direction of what could be predicted as the kitchen. Dana felt tired already, having been pulled away from the man. In all honesty, breakfast wasn't her thing. Instead, Dana was a woman who ate lunch, dinner, and something small and usually fruity when she got home after her nightly shift.

Into the kitchen they went though, and Dana was just as quiet as she could be, thinking now of what connection might be between the plump innkeeper and the mysterious groom of her generosity. But soon the woman took her thoughts and hushed them further into the back of her mind.

"You gettin' the silverware?" She said in a more-so gentle crisp, turning her head to Dana. Dana nodded just as crisply, running her hands over her dress as she turned to the counter and rounded up what would be needed for them to have a breakfast. Already the smell of eggs began to flood the place like some storm, and unseen to Dana as well. She had- as soon as the woman was silent once more- begun thinking back to the greatly enigmatic Benedict.

"So how do you know him? Sir Schindler, I mean." Dana blurted in the quietest and most amiable whisper, turning her hazel hues just lightly to spot the woman with a slight grin, awaiting an answer she could not surely foretell.

[Lady Ananas]

The round faced inn keeper turned her head towards Dana, a few red curls bouncing into her freckled face. "Aye, miss. And what 'ave ya a need ta know of the man?" she asked amiably, bouncing around the kitchen getting the food prepared. In all the time Benedict had stayed with her, she was well aware that Benedict could, and very well would, eat his weight in food. Benedict, now sitting in the foyer, looked up, though he was unseen thanks to the wall between himself and the two women in the kitchen.

Not really waiting for an answer, the small woman bustled to the stove and began moving the food from it, to the dishes. "I'd say he's probably in his mid thirties, miss. I can't prove that, mind ya, but that's just what I've heard." She poured milk into a jug, dusting off a speck from her apron. "From a real wealthy family in Bath...Not anybody knows a thing 'er two about 'em...They're a strange lot. Keep ta themselves, ya know?"

Benedict knew he was being talked about, that wasn't hard to figure out. Besides, Mrs. Winchester was the most incorrigible gossip he'd ever met. The old woman was a dear friend of his, but sometimes, she just like to talk and talk and talk. His gray eyes swiveled to the window, where he could see the dawn quickly approaching.