Southern Beauty - By Julie Lucia Page 0,1

sir,” answered David with a salute. He silently mouthed the words, “capture him?” to his companions.

The men got upon their saddled horses, grabbing their sabers and revolvers on the way. Under his breath, David cursed the dangerous plan the commander ordered. The three men and their horses galloped off, leaving behind Salisbury, and the many women of Preston’s nightly pleasures.

# # #

Beyond the thick dusty clouds, a ray of sunshine peered through and shone upon an immaculate plantation, surrounding it with fields of exquisite flowers that seemed to be an endless array of bouquets. Inside, the rooms were handsomely decorated with a man’s touch: a quiet fire burning in the fireplace, before it a sable bear skin rug, and a hat rack that once held a colonel’s hat. The cupboards were sufficiently stacked with an extravagant abundance of liquor.

Below in the cellar was wine, fermenting, as it silently waited to be opened. Against the wall hung a new Secession Flag; beside it stood an impeccable, sturdy black musket with a bayonet. Up the flowing oak and marble staircase were elegant bedrooms of crimson velvet. Out on the terrace, a ravishingly beautiful young lady posed in the noon sun, eagerly awaiting her mentor.

Johanna Lee breathed in the deep countryside air. Her long golden hair blew in the timid breeze. Her emerald eyes twinkled in the sun’s light. Her ivory skin hid behind an eloquently decorated pink parasol that matched her silken gown of layers of lace that fit tightly from her full breasts to her curving hips and continued outward, covering her from the waist to the marble floor. Johanna Lee had lived here, in her uncle’s estate, since her parents fled the country two months ago for Paris. She was left behind for her safety and her reputation. Although it was beautiful, she longed to be near family.

Johanna gripped a letter in her hands. The letter brought her comfort and made her slightly smile through her tears.

It was a letter from her uncle that had been sent to her recently. She reread it;

My Dearest Niece,

I hope this letter finds you in good health. I am sorry I haven’t sent for you. It has become difficult for me to travel without suspicion from my superiors. I will be meeting G.T. at Fort Moultrie and unable to retrieve you myself. You will be sent an escort instead to take you to Arlington. I will try to meet you at the inn where the Otter resides before your departure. I have made arrangements for all servants to work for John Grady’s plantation. He is a good man, he will provide housing, and pay them handsomely for their service. They will leave within the week. Please take with you my favorite weekly reading material that was given to me by a dear friend who likes ballooning. What ever the cost you must keep it hidden. Trust no one. If for some reason I cannot meet you, please retrieve my box of cigars. It will be at the cottage near your father’s preferred drink. You know of which I speak. Our lives may very well depend on it. Therefore it is imperative that you follow my instructions with the utmost discretion. I am sorry to put you at risk, but I know that I can depend and trust in you. Keep safe. May God bless your travels!

With Love,

R.E. Lee

Johanna thought about each sentence. She knew although her uncle had been at the Custiss-Lee Mansion in Arlington after leaving his post in Texas, he hadn’t been able to retrieve her due to the rising conflict between the states. Now that South Carolina had seceded and Virginia silently spoke of following, it was harder for him to travel without causing controversy.

# # #

The sun’s light disappeared along with its warmth, leaving only a chilling breeze that made the stench of the horses’ sweat inflame the men’s nostrils. A whistle sang through the forest’s trees and the dusty trail the men were following became harder to see the further they traveled. Only a small clearing before them shone of the moon’s light. Throughout the woods an array of twinkling lights made the blackened woods seem enchanted.

“It’s awfully cold out for fireflies,” Preston noticed the lights.

“I don’t think those are fireflies. You are just noticing animals watching us from the woods, their eyes are reflecting the moonlight,” explained Jacob. “Some people think these woods are enchanted.”

“Wow. That’s amazing. There must be a hundred of them in there,” said Preston.

“Enchanted?