Characters: Xena Gabrielle Janice Covington Melinda Pappas Serena Pappas Felicity Covington
Summary: This is an Uber Xena story set in the era of the American Civil War. Jan and Mel discover some trunks and chests in the attic of Mel's mansion and some surprises about their ancestors. Rating NC-17 Explicit f/f sex
Disclaimer: Xena, Gabrielle, Jan, Mel Argo and some others belong and are copy- righted to MCA/Universal and Renaissance Pictures. They are used here without intent to profit. No copyright infringement is intended. The remainder of the story belongs to me and I hold the copyright to it.
Many thanks to: BatMorda for her gracious permission to borrow Pandora and her folks from "Is There A Doctor On The Dig?" (a great story. Read it.) and her help in working this around it. You do us proud. Special thanks to Nancy M for her encouragement and proofing of the story. My appreciation to BairdBard, BardwooHoo and JABard for their expertise concerning the Civil War, sailing ships and names.
Warnings: (sex) The story contains material describing two consenting adults engaging in sex. If you are under the age of 18, if this material is illegal where you stay, please split RIGHT NOW. Otherwise, enjoy.
(violence) There are allusions to acts of brutality and vicious savagery performed on several of the characters. Unfortunately, such acts were visited upon their real-life counterparts before, during and after the War. Although it physically sickens me to even think about, it is an integral element for the particular incident. My apologies.
Seems Like Old Times
by Skylark
"Hatred stirs up disputes but love covers all offenses." Proverbs Chapter 10 vs.12
CHAPTER THE FIRST
It was definitely a sight at which even the most dull person would've laughed, and Jan Covington had a well-developed, if not a wicked, sense of humor. Mel Pappas, quintes- sential southern belle, stood there on the southwest end of the attic, looking hot, rag- gedy and very unkempt. She had pulled the mass of black hair into a ponytail and donned an old shirt and pants of her father's which were now covered with dust. A smudge of sooty dirt graced an otherwise creamy cheek and four streaks of black were smeared across her forehead. Her face was quite red and sweat grayed the back of the shirt. With fists planted on her hips and a very frustrated set to her mouth, she looked awful, knew it and felt it. Jan thought she looked magnificent but declined to say so, preferring a grin and quickly smothered giggle.
"I do declare. Jan, it's not funny. It's as hot as the pits of ..." and she stopped.
"Hell," finished her lover, with a snort.
That earned her a glare as Mel turned her gaze back to the pile of stuff covering the floor of the attic. Jan, hearing from the maid that Miss Melinda was in the attic, had dropped her pack, shooed Argo to the kitchen and climbed up the ladder. She had poked her head up from the trap in time to hear Mel give a gusty sigh.
"Whatcha you doin' up here?" she queried as she grabbed the top of the sidepiece and swung up. Walking over to Mel, she slid her arm around the slim body and pulled her down for a kiss. Coming up for air several minutes later, Mel blinked and whispered "I'm even hotter now, but you're goanna git dirty."
"You have never seen me really dirty. Besides, it's a good excuse for a bath."
"The Auxiliary at church is asking for donations of old clothes and other items for war orphans and widows. I was looking up heah for somethin' to give'em. But, look what I found, pushed way up under the eaves. I never saw'em before." "They" were a large trunk, and two smaller chests, one the size of a large jewelry box, which was locked. Janice pulled a large bone-handled knife out of her pants pocket and picked the lock.
"I know--the many skills thing," grinned Jan.
"It sure was heavy to be so little. I like to never got it outta theah." She sat down next to Jan and wiped her hand over her brow, further blackening it.
"Here, Mel, use this. We'll never get you clean if you keep doing that," as Jan handed her a pocket handkerchief. She had finally removed the lock, lifted the lid and both inhaled sharply. The chest was filled with gold chains, jeweled necklaces, loose emeralds, rubies, sapphires and small bars of virgin gold and silver.
"Land of hope and glory", breathed Mel, "I nevah have seen any thing like that befoah in ma life."
Jan was, for once, utterly speechless. She put one hand in the chest and ran it through the stones, picking up a handful and letting them fall back. The late afternoon sunshine sparkled off the gems and created small falls of blue and red. Mel picked up a diamond neck- lace fully three feet long. Diamonds of a size from as small as Quaker Ladies blossoms to a goose egg were strung on a gold wire with a pendant diamond in the middle larger than any gem either of them had ever seen.
"There's something large down at the bottom,"Jan said, digging her hand in, but Mel stopped her.
"Wait, let's take it down to the study, Jan, it'll be cooler."
"What about the other stuff? What's in those other trunks?"
"Only one of them is a trunk, looks like a clothes trunk. T'other'un is a flat topped chest." Jan twisted around and walked on her knees over to the largest piece and opened it up.
"Yer right, it's full of clothes--all wrapped in sheets of tissue paper."
The inside lid of the trunk had the label of one of London's most fashionable modistes and was lined with gathered satin. The smell of cedar emanated from it. Mel lifted the top layer of paper and saw a gray sleeve with gold trim. She raised the layers of paper, one by one, revealing the hems of black and gray riding breeches, a green skirt or dress of watered silk, orange-blossom pongee sleeves, white linen necks of several shirts and waists, heavier riding coats, cloaks. Further down, several pairs of black riding boots, dancing pumps, denim half-boots, and at the very bottom, a cavalry saber, Confederate Navy revolver in a holster, a Bowie knife and braided whip. The two women looked at one another.
"Holy cow," said Jan.
With mouths agape, they approached the the medium-sized chest.
"Ah'm almos' afraid to open it," whispered Mel. Jan closed her own mouth and slowly lifted the lid.
"You look lak you think theah might be a snake or sumthin' inside," Mel said.
"Never expected to find anything like those chests in anybody's attic, much less here."
The chest was opened to reveal stacks of black leather-covered books.
"A small library," said Mel, looking over Jan's shoulder.
"They don't look like books, they're more like journals." There were thirty-two, in four neat stacks arranged in chronological order from 1859 through 1890, each having its year imprinted in gold on the cover. Janice reverently lifted the top one out.
"It IS a journal." She opened and began reading. "January 1 My schooling here at Miss Falkland's Academy on the Hudson will be over in April. Father writes that he has heard of a plantation owner down in Carolina who wants to hire a governess for his children and wishes to know if I might be interested. It sounds fascinating, to be living in Carolina, Miss Julie Beauregard is from Virginia and her tales of life on her daddy's plantation seem to be full of parties, hunt breakfasts and balls. But surely, they do something besides dance all day...."
"Jan, you cain't read all them books, journals up heah, now, please, honey, it's just too hot.."
Jan picked up three more and then opened the one for 1863. The recorder had a beautiful hand, neat, precise, but with a verve and flourish evident in the sketches interspersed with the narrative. Each day had its page or pages, observations, word pictures in addition to some private thoughts, dreams and heartaches.
She came to May 15, 1863 and read out loud, "On this day, my life changed totally and forever. I met the woman I'll love for all eternity, Serena Pappas.."
Mel gave a gasp, "Serena Pappas, why, she's my grandmother."
"Your grandmother?"
"Yeah, theah used to be a portrait of her hangin' in the hall, but Daddy said he took it down a long time ago."
"You're right, we gotta git this stuff down to the study."
"Jan, help me look for the portrait, first, please."
"Okay, but not too long, I don't want you passin'out. You go to the right and I'll take this back part." They worked quickly, pulling out boxes and bags, moving more trunks and generally stirring up more dust. Mel stood upright and wiped her forehead of its drops of sweat.
"I don't see...Wait, look over heah. next to that chiffarobe, some frames."
Motes of dust drifted through the air and Mel sneezed. "Bless you."
Jan began pulling out the pictures and Mel sneezed again.
"Okay, I'm hurrying." There were three pictures. Jan reached around and lifted the first out, turning around to Mel.
"Put it down and come look," she said in a strangled voice. Jan moved to her side and gave a gasp. It could have been Mel herself in the painting. It was a full length portrait in a mahogany frame five feet by three-the woman stood by a chair, resting her hand on top of it. Black hair with brown-red highlights billowing down below her unusually broad shoulders, torso tapering to a very slim waist, a long leg slightly bent at the knee. Sapphire blue eyes, high cheek bones, rich red lips in a half smile with a defined chin. She was clothed in a severe, rather mannish riding habit, black short coat, pale blue shirt, a pair of indigo pants with white braid down the side, black boots. A gray shako with a red feather, tan gloves and a braided whip completed the picture. Her back was to a large window with a golden sun pouring over her.
"We're putting this back up. There're two more with it. You think....?" Jan queried.
"Le's see'm."
Jan went and squatted down to pull the other two away from the chiffarobe. She slid them out and Mel grasped the corners. They were smaller than the Serena portrait, but both were full lengths also. Heavy hand-carved mahogany frames like the first, one of Serena and another woman, side by side and the other, of the woman alone, a shorter woman, a green eyed beauty with honey red braids to her shoulders.
"Janice, she looks like you." For the second time in her life, Janice Covington was speechless.
"I gotta get a drink," Jan finally breathed.
"Yeah, y'all look like y'all gonna faint. Some ice tea will be real nice. Come on," Mel said.
"It's not ice tea I want."
She took another look at the two portraits-her look-alike. She was arrayed in a richly embroidered and braided short coat of rust over a cream colored waist with a dark brown leather belt and dark green, almost black riding pants in the picture with Serena. The one of the woman alone showed her in front of the same window, also in a riding suit, this one of rich green broadcloth and white waist, a low crowned hat and brown gloves. Dark brown half-boots completed the scene. Jan slowly shook her head and Mel, stifling in the heat, pulled at her arm.
"Come on, they been up heah forever, They'll keep while we freshen up." Jan shook her head again and followed Mel down the ladder. Pandora was waiting for them, fussing.
"Come along, you two. Y'all as dusty as my least one playin' in the road."
"'Dora, please run us a bath and bring supper up to the study. Y'all should hear what we found in the attic."
"Miss Melinda, whatever 's in 'at attic can wait. I gots biscuits and gravy and some fried chicken." She fixed them both with a stern eye. "Don't you two get carried away with that bath, you heah?"
Looking sideways at Janice, Mel promised her they would hurry and grabbed Jan by the arm.
"Come on...."
"Wait" Jan rummaged in her pack, came up with some rope, scurried up the ladder, saying "Catch the chests as I let'em down, we can look at 'em while we wait."
In minutes, the jewel box came swinging down, followed by the chest of journals.
"Here comes the trunk. Catch one end."
Mel placed the two smaller chests side by side against the wall and braced herself The clothes trunk was lowered slowly, spinning slightly. She steadied her side, Jan jumped down, grabbed the other and they set it on the floor. Next, Jan sprung back up the ladder.
"Grab these," she yelled. And all three portraits came swinging down, neatly tied together. Mel stood, holding the sides of the frames, shaking her head with a grin spread- ing over her face.
"Janice Covington, you just won't do."
Jan, having slammed the trap shut, grinned back at her.
"I just couldn't leave all that up there."
"Well, all right, but come on and le's freshen up. 'Dora's goanna be back real quick."
It was one of the quickest "freshenin'-ups" either of them had taken, really no more than splashes and wipes. Ten minutes later, they went to the study, clean skin and, in Mel's case, her usual clothes. Jan had just poured drinks-a wine for Mel and a triple Scotch for herself, when Pandora knocked with supper.
"Y'all cant' be done?" she exclaimed. " Miss Janice, are you alright?"
"I"m fine," Jan said and knocked back her drink. "Please put the tray on the desk and bring some rags in here. We gotta clean those trunks up."
The two women attacked the tray quickly, both rather excited at their discovery. The mountain of fried chicken, mashed potatoes, biscuits and gravy disappeared along with large glasses of ice tea. Blackberry cobbler with sweet cream followed. Mel, wiping her mouth delicately with a napkin, was the first to speak.
"Janice, wheah do y'all think those jewels came from? I have absolutely no memory of anything like that ben talked about by Daddy or anybody. And, he 'most never talked about ma gran'. I figured he just didn't remember much about her. She died when he was fouah years ol."
Her teeth crunching on 'Dora's chicken, Jan mumbled "MmmmmI don mmm have a humph clue. Mmm, this is delicious. What I want to do is find out who my twin is."
She hastily wiped her hands on the clean khakis before Mel could give her a napkin.
"You finished? Help me drag those chests in here."
"OK"
Jan stepped out to the hall and picked up the journal chest and brought it inside. Mel followed her and together, they carried the clothes trunk in, next the pictures and finally, the jewel box. This they placed on the desk, by itself. Pandora came bustling in with dust rags at that point. Jan gave her a quick hug, saying "The chicken was perfect, 'Dora."
"Go on, now Miss Janice, Ah hope Ah fixed you enough."
Mel giggled and gave the empty tray and plates back.
"Yes, it was quite sufficent, even for Jan. Would you please bring up a pitcher more of tea? I'm still hot."
"Yes, m'am."
"Whatcha mean, you're hot? Huh, hot for what?" she teased, flicking her eyebrows up and grabbing Mel around the neck. They kissed once, then again more passionately.
"Think that'll hold you til...?"
"Maybe, but not too long."
She took one of the rags and began wiping off the trunk. "Janice, look heah. On the top."
Jan, carrying the journal trunk over to Mel, bent and inspected the lid. The initials "S" "P" and "F" "C" had been imprinted. She looked at the lid of the other trunk. It had the same initials. Mel went over to the desk and checked the jewel chest.
"It does too."
"Well, we know who the S and P belong to, but who is F C?" As she spoke, she suddenly saw the two women, dressed both in mens black riding suits, embracing in a sun-filled clear- ing. They knelt and kissed again. She shook her head. Mel took her hand and pulled her down.
"Jan, y'all are as pale as a ghost. What's the matter?"
"I think I just saw two. Not us, but those in the pictures. Am I crazy?"
"No, honey, they're connected with us, somehow."
"I think what we ought to do is, go about this in a orderly fashion, start with the jewel chest, see what is in it and go from there, what y'all think?" asked Mel. She thought to herself-'At least it will keep her from trying to read all those journals tonight.'
"Yeah, sounds good. You get some paper and write down what's all in there."
Jan brought the chest over to the floor in front of the couch and opened it. She lifted out the necklaces first, then the ingots, followed by the loose gems. They sparkled in the glow of the lamps. Beneath them she found ropes of pearls, a layer of loose diamonds, stacks of thin ivory disks with holes top and bottom, ivory teardrops and carved beads, two layers of aquamarines and on the very bottom, the large object she had touched earlier, wrapped in a soft cloth. Tiny gasps and ahs came from Mel's side of the couch as Jan removed all the treasures. She began arranging them in rows beside her, creating rainbow of gleams on the burgundy upholstery.
"I have nevah seen so many gems. Where do you think they came from?"
Jan, busy with the wrapping, shook her head and said "Well, the chest doesn't look like a strong box, more like a document case or for a special book; look, it's lined with velvet. And this thing is a statue.. but what a statue!" she exclaimed.
"Ahhh, mah goodness", Mel breathed. They both just sat and stared at the figurine. It was a jewel-encrusted statuette of a woman, approximately twelve inches high.
CHAPTER THE SECOND
It was carved from ivory, with small chips of emerald for eyes, sapphires around the neck, diamonds and rubies for the robes in swirling sparkling ribbons and stripes. Gold covered the feet and small silver rings adorned the fingers.
"This statue is worth a fortune by itself. Wonder who the lady is supposed to be?" Jan said. "Maybe it's "F" "C" who ever that is. Have you listed down all the gems and things?"
"Not all" said Mel guiltily. "I jus' couldn't keep track." They finished the inventory and put the loose gems and necklaces back in the chest. Mel picked up the figurine and saw the two women surrounded by a large group of black people dressed in scanty garments with spears and strange headdresses. A large black man with a very elaborate headdress was handing Mel's look-alike the statue and giving the opened chest full of jewels to Jan's look-alike.
As from a great distance, she heard Jan's voice.
"Mel, Mel MEL MELINDA snap out of it. COME ON. GET UP. Let's walk around some."
Jan, with a tinge of panic in her voice, grabbed Mel by the shoulders, shook her slightly and pulled up by the elbows. Puffing with the exertion, she pulled her forward and forced her to take several steps. Mel shook her head and looked at Janice vacantly.
"Wha, what happen? Where..?" Her eyes refocused and she looked at her beloved.
"Here, siddown. You scared the living...."
"Jan, watch them ..."
"Yeah, but what happened? Where did you go? Did Xena come back?"
"I think I, or they, were in Africa, somewhere in Africa," Mel replied somewhat abstractedly. She related the details of her vision. The two of them sat on the the couch and just looked at each other.
"It wadn't Xena but them in the portraits."
"The answers gotta be in those journals."
"Well, I reckon so, but y'all caint't start in and read'em tonight. Le's turn in and o it t'morrah. We'll have all weekend."
Jan gave her a big grin and said "You just want to finish what we started up there."
"You do too," replied Mel with raised eyebrows. With arms around each others waists, they left the study for their bedroom.
Quickly stripping off their clothes, they embraced by the side of the bed and kissed slowly. Their passion built and Jan reached up and squeezed Mel's right breast gently as Mel eased out a soft sigh into Jan's ear and slid her lips to the hollow of the throat while slipping both hands down her beloved's muscular back. Jan continued her attention to the right breast and began laving the other with gentle sweeps of her tongue.
Mel moaned softly and a tremor rippled through her. Desire flooded through their blood, flamed in their hearts. They fell on the bed, lip locked in tight embrace. Hands continued explorations. Whispers and short gasps of pleasure filled the room. Jan's tongue glided slowly down to her beloved's navel where she traced a circle, causing Mel's body to shudder. Further down it traveled, causing Mel's shudders to grow.
Both hissed and moaned together while tongue and fingers speeded their activities, an ancient matching rhythm. Fountains of pleasure waves coursed through their bodies, building in intensity, both helpless. They climaxed together, as electric jolts ran on nerve and fiber to fingers and toes, as muscles clenched and bodies shuddered. All thoughts of journals and jewels vanished with fulfillment as legs and arms entwined and they gently kissed. Sleep overcame them till the early morning.
Mel awoke in the crepuscular glimmer of dawn with Janice's hand cupped around her breast and legs draped over her lower body. The smell of brewing coffee and bacon was drifting up from Pandora's domain. She smiled softly and brushed a strand of red-gold hair from Jan's mouth and kissed her.
"Mmmmm", was the response but no fluttering of the eyes she so loved to see.
"Jan, sugar, wanna wake up?" "MMmmMMMmm, ahhhhmmmm" was all she got. Mel shook her head and eased away from her sleeping lover. Rolling off the bed, she pulled on a robe and padded into the bathroom. Completeing a brief toillete, she went downstairs. Ten minutes later, she was back up with a cup of steaming coffee, which she waved under Janice's nose. She took a sip, bent and kissed her, running her tongue lightly over her lips.
"MMMMMMM whatcha' doin? That tastes wonderful. Do it agin."
Mel took another sip, licked her lips and kissed Jan a second time, this time sliding her tongue into her mouth. "Ahhhh, mmmmumm,mmmmummm mmmmmm." The two tongues lazily entwined and explored each other, every texture in their mouths, the slick inside cheeks and teeth.
"Whatta way to wake up."
Mel smiled. "Ah thought y'all like it. Theah's more comin'. 'Dora is bringin' a tray up. Want it in here or the study?"
"If we have it in here, we'll never get to the study. 'Specially if she has any honey."
"Janice!"
"Well."
Mel just shook her head at her lover and stepped out to the landing. Pandora was huffing up the stairs with a huge tray of breakfast. She took the tray from her and asked her to bring their coffee and tea to the study. She could still hear Janice splashing in the bathroom. Mel knew that one, Jan would be ravenous and two, she would want to jump right in on the journals. The trick would be to keep her from doing both.
She went in the study and set a small table with plates and utensils. On the tray was a covered platter and basket filled with biscuits, jars of peach and blackberry preserves, butter and the honey (which she hid). Janice came in, beamed at Mel and immediately headed for the journal trunk.
"No, y'all don't. Eat. Now." And she grabbed Jan's shirt front to haul her over to the table.
"Hey, but..."
"Please, Jan, sugar. Come eat breakfast with me. Y'all git to readin' the journals and ah'll not see your eyes all weekend." When Mel said please, that's all it took. Her beloved grinned and sat down opposite to her.
"Well, dig in."
Pandora came in with a silver coffee service and two cups and saucers.
"Here's more coffee and yore tea, Miss Melinda. Was y'all up all night with those things from the attic?"
"No, but ya oughtta see what we found. Lotsa stuff from the War, a bunch of books like diaries, journals we call'm and a treasure chest."
Mel had poured her tea and more coffee for Jan. She said, "Pandora, did Daddy ever say anything about what things might be up theah? Like antique clothes and pictures, old travelin' stuff? "
"No'm. Onliest thing I know about what I helped put up there, boxes of kitchen things, some furniture and such." By this time, Jan had finished a huge helping of eggs and grits, sausage and about half the biscuits.
"You finished, Mel, can we look at..."
"No, eat a little bit more grits. Ah want to do this together."
Jan, never one to turn down food, spooned more grits on her plate, added some cut-up sausage and covered it with gravy. Since moving in with Mel, she had been introduced to grits and sausage gravy and couldn't get enough of it. She wolfed it down, gulped her coffee, refilled the cup and asked Mel if she wasn't ready.
"Ah declare, Jan, y'all worse than a kid at Christmas," her beloved said.
She grinned widely, arose, and handed Mel up from the table. Sliding her hand around her neck, she pulled her down for a kiss which lasted several minutes and threatened to send them back to the bed.
Finally, they broke apart, both somewhat dizzy and sat themselves down on the couch.
"Kin I start readin' now? Please?" Jan begged.
"Long as you do it out loud."
"OK"
She swallowed the coffee and opened the first book. There was a translucent fronts-piece with this inscription : MY JOURNAL by Felice Covington. January 1 1859 to December 31 1859.
It was Jan's turn to gasp, Mel with her.
"Who is Felice ...." breathed Mel.
In a somewhat strangled voice, Jan said "My great-aunt."
They looked at one another with mouths open and began to laugh.
"Well, is this not history repeating itse'f? What do y'all know about yore great-aunt, Jan?"
Jan, still in a stupor, slowly shook her head and said, with a far-away look in her eye, "Not very much. Only thing I can remember is she left home to be a governess some- where far off and never came back. She was so young, I remember that."
"An' they were lovers, jus' like us."
"Yeah", said Jan and turned her face towards Mel for another kiss. Mel leaned herself back to the corner of the couch, pulling Jan with her. They snuggled together comfortably. Jan had several of the journals in her lap and Mel asked her to start with the May 15 one.
"I was goin' to anyway," grinned Jan.
Picking up from where she had been reading the night before, Jan began...
"The woman I"ll love for all eternity, Serena Pappas. I've been governess at Field Place since September 1859 but had never seen her, primarily because the governess is invited to only to those parties for the chidren and I have had enough of them. But in reality, I would not have met her anyway as she, according to Mrs Gates, doesn't think "we are fit company for her. No telling what goes on at the Pappas plantation. Mighty strange goins'on."
I had released the children from their lessons as company was to come and to escape the attentions of Mr. Phileas, my employer, had decided to take a longer walk than usual, not having any notion that I would never be back. It is late spring, the woods all leafed out and very still. I heard hoofbeats coming closer, then suddenly, from my left, a brown blur and a man pulling up a horse's head.
He was a large person, in brown homespuns and straw hat. Jumping down from the horse, he came toward me with a leer... "Wal, wal, who are you?" as he grabbed my arm and with his other hand, forced up my chin. My heart raced and I stammered,"Nnnnoo onnnne tttthat yyyyyou know. Let go."
"Not a chance. Not 'til we're done gettin' acquainted," he said with a grin. I pulled away and he slapped me, then hit me on the side of my head. With my head spinning dizzily, I backed away, with the brute following. He grabbed my hair and leaned his face down, but I pushed and kicked mightily. He cunningly kicked my ankle and I fell, scrambling back. The animal jerked my braid and viciouly hit me. I next felt his boot in my side and I screamed in agony. From behind him, a tall legged horse came into view and I saw black boots and black covered legs leaping off the horse......
May 15, 1863
The statesque brunette sat her horse easily as she watched the foreman and several hands begin to chop the dead cypress standing on the edge of the pasture. The plantation was hers now as her younger brother, Linus, had been killed last year at the Battle of Antietam. Tory, the oldest, had married and left for North Carolina, even before the War. He had given up the inheritance to Serena when Linus died. She thought back to that dreadful day five years ago when the Colonel, her beloved father, had been brought home on a wagon with his chest blown out, the result of a duel with a hotheaded boy.
Not one for repining, she shook those bitter memories away, kneed the cream-colored horse and trotted down the hill towards the workers. She called to the foreman, gave him some instructions, then wheeled the horse around and galloped toward the house. Through the woods her way went, to check on a small group of horsemen she'd seen from her vantage on the hill.
Hearing voices up ahead, she pulled away from the trail, stood on the saddle, grabbed an overhanging branch and swung up. Climbing further up the tree, she observed ten or twelve men in a clearing, all mounted and surrounding another man, well known to her, on a brown horse. He was Jake Menzent, from a small and ill-run plantation in the south of the county. Listening close, she heard their plans for a nighttime raid on Laurel Shoals, a settlement some ten miles away. ' Well, we can stop that for sure', she thought to herself. Noticing that the group was dispersing, she silently jumped down to her horse and followed Menzent along a dirt path leading back to the pike to Charleston.
He slowed his horse as a young woman on foot approached from a side track. Jumping off his horse, the woman watched as he accosted her. The girl, for she was no more than that, struggled but was no match for Menzent. He slapped, then hit her and grabbed her by the hair. She fought back, but he kicked her ankle, grabbed a handful of red-gold hair and gave her a vicious kick in the side. That was more than enough for the brunette. Urging her horse forward, she gave a wild cry and leaped off on top of the man, ramming her boot in his kidney.
"Didn't your mother teach you to have respect for a lady?" she said over his groan.
Her whip whistled over his head as he scrambled back and tried to get up. She popped the whip down his arm, slashing the fabric of the jacket.
"Next one will be across yo' face," she snarled. Whirling the butt end of the whip around her head, she unloaded a blow on his jaw. He fell like a tree. Whistling for his horse, the tall woman quickly tied him hand and foot, and hoisted him on his saddle. Slap- ping the brown horse's rump with a "Yah", she watched as it galloped off.
The young woman had watched in awe at the effortless way the black-clad woman had dispatched her attacker. Still dizzy from the beating, she was losing consciousness but thought to herself that her rescuer was the most beautiful person she had ever seen. As she blacked out, she saw her bending down over her face. That was all she could remember-the sapphire eyes looking into hers.
Serena knelt next to the unconscious woman, knelt and just gazed at her-golden red hair gathered in a braid to the top of the collar of her white waist, green eyes now shut, trim body clothed in a drab brown skirt and jacket, worn brown shoes. She felt a tug of attraction, 'she's beautiful'; this woman's presence had her heart racing. She felt for the pulse in the stranger's throat, gently lifted several strands of hair from her forehead and wiped dirt from her cheek. Running her hands over her arms and legs, she determined that no bones were broken.
She leaned back to study her again. She couldn't remember having met or seen her anywhere. Serena whistled for her horse, lifted the small body in her arms and stood on a tall stump. The horse knelt beside her as she slung a leg over the saddle and settled herself with her load. Easing the woman's arms along her sides, she reached for the reins, gathered them in one hand and slid her other arm around the woman's waist. She gently squeezed the horse and gave a command. They cantered rapidly toward the plantation house.
Camellia Court was the usual low country manor house, built of homemade bricks and cypress lumber from the nearby forests in the Georgian Palladian style. A tabby smokehouse, stables, twelve cabins for the hands' families, storehouses, a small building for the sick, various outbuildings and extensive gardens made up the residence and living quarters. Vast acreages of cotton, indigo and vegetable fields comprised the remainder of the plantation. Fruit and pecan orchards could be seen farther away, then unbroken vistas of cypress, pine and mixed hardwoods stretching to the swamps.
The gardens were laid out following the style of Magnolia-on the-Ashley but with scores of camellias, thus giving the plantation its name-Camellia Court. Magnolias, live oaks, sweet shrub, Carolina jessamine, wisteria, climbing Lady Banks and Cherokee roses, wild honeysuckle, daphne, sparkleberry, snow bells and fringe tree were the dominant species. A kitchen and herb garden flanked the main house.
The small woman roused briefly during the ride back. She had a pounding headache and soreness in her rib cage. But in spite of the pain, she felt safe. In fact, she had never felt so secure and protected, being hugged tightly into the glorious body of her rescuer. She drooped back into a drowsy state with thoughts of coming home. Serena glanced briefly down at her burden and urged the horse faster. The woman was paler and had a slight frown on her face. They finally were in sight of the house. The boy, Isaiah, who she was training to be a groom, came running out to catch the reins, with Pompey, the butler, right behind.
"Miss Serena...?"
"No time to talk, Pomp. Here, take her in yo' arms while Ah get down. Ah'll explain later. There's work tonight but y'all are on yo'own."
"We'uns can do it."
Serena smiled at his confidence.
"Ah know. Now, Isaiah, run to the dairy and tell Jeremiah to boil up several tubs of water and have'em carried to the back of the house. Then, go get some fresh spearmint from the garden, bring it to Abigail." Isaiah scampered off and Serena took the woman from Pompey.
"Pomp, Ah want you to tell Abbie to fix some broth or soup, bread, coffee and fruit. Ask her to send Cassia to the back storeroom with towels, fresh linens, and a nightgown. You fill the tub with the water. Send Sara to me."
"Yes,'m."
He hurried off as Serena strode down the hall with her burden. Sara came briskly out of the kitchen and stopped in surprise.
"Well, Miss Serena,.."
"No time for that, Sara, open the door." The little maid did so and and went before her mistress, pulling down the coverlet on the bed. Serena laid the woman down gently and pulled a sheet over her.
"Sara, she's been beaten and kicked. Ah want to give her a warm bath first, then some medicine and food. You brew some mint tea with honey, then get some yarrow and bayberry oil from the medicine closet. Make a poultice from the yarrow and warm up the oil." Cassia came in about that time with the linens and towels.
"Cass, help me take her clothes off, then tear off some linen strips for bandages.' They quickly stripped her and pulled the sheet back. "She sure is a pretty little thing," remark- ed the maid.
"Yes, she is and she has beautiful green eyes," said Serena.
"Miss Serena, here comes Jeremiah and Pomp with the tub."
"Y'all fill the tub and Pomp, wait for me in the kitchen." Serena went into the kitchen where everyone was hustling around.
"Sara, how you comin'? " she asked. "Got the oil warmin' and fixin' the poultice now." Pomp came in then and told her the bath was ready.
"Miss Serena, what happened to 'at little girl?"
"Ah heard Menzent planning a raid on Laurel Shoals tonight, so I followed him to, ah, persuade him that would be a bad idea."
Pomp slapped his leg.
"But he nearly rode her down before I could stop him. The son of ..."
"Miss Serena," objected Abigail.
"Alright, he hit her on the head, knocked her down, then kicked her in the side. What else could Ah do? Had to stop him."
"Couldn't do anything else. Doan you feel bad. What we gonna tonight?"
"Tonight, you and about eight others will ambush him and his crew. Send Obed to the sheriff now with a note Ah'll write. Then, along about dusk, y'all circle the Shoals and jump them. Tie'm up, gag and blind'em, leave'em in the middle of town. Then, hightail it home. NO NOISE NO GUNS."
"Hee,hee,hee, yes'm just like you want."
"Cass, you finish the poultice. Sara, you come help me bathe her."
Serena and the maid went back to the room, lifted the woman into the tub and gently washed all the dirt and leaves off her. They washed her hair, dried her off and placed her back on the bed.
"Sara, tell Cass to bring the poultice, oil and tea. Where are the bandages?" Sara handed them to her and went for Cass. Serena smoothed back the honey tresses and caressed the woman's satiny cheek. A fine bruise was beginning on her jaw and she had several scrapes that were bleeding slightly. The maid handed Serena the warmed oil and placed a bowl with the poultice in it next to the bed. A covered pot, cup and saucer was next.
"Thank you, Cass. Now tell Abbie to have the food ready in about twenty minutes."
"Yes'm."
"Oh, Cass, bring a pen and paper, please." The maid went away and Serena was left alone with the stranger woman.
She dipped a small towel in the oil and wiped the various scrapes and bruises, then made a pad of a linen strip, soaked it in the yarrow and bound the ankle. She lifted and turned the woman over and using the oil, began a light massage over her back and shoulders. Not being aware that the smaller woman had awakened, she intesified the pressure and began working knots out and releasing tension. The young woman sighed and stirred.
Serena had worked down the backbone and spread her fingers lightly over the ribs. The woman groaned slightly. Serena felt the swelling of the kick and stopped.
"Please don't. It feels wonderful what you're doing" she whispered.
Serena paused, asking "Did I hurt you?"
"No, I am a little sore and my head hurts."
"I've got some honeyed tea for your head, how 'bout some in a bit?"
Serena continued her massage down the legs and feet. The woman took a deep breath, never having felt sesnsations like those coursing through her body--the gentle touch and the feel of long strong fingers sweeping over her back were burning small dots of fire on her skin and tiny tremors down into her center. Serena wiped her back of the oil, pulled the sheet up and said "See if you turn over without any pain." The woman did so, giving a small hiss. She lay back on the pillow and smiled wanly.
"That didn't hurt too much."
"My name is Serena Pappas. You are at Camellia Court, my home. Do you know the name of the brute who attacked you?"
"No, I've never seen him. You're Serena Pappas?"
"Yes, I see you heard of me."
"I don't judge books by the cover," smiled the the young woman. "I am Felicity Covington. Thank you for saving me, saving my life."
"Well, Felicity, I don't think..."
"No, he probably would have kicked or beaten me to death after he had..."
"But he didn't. It's over. Now, you are my guest here and may stay as long as you wish, at least until you recover, longer if possible." Serena smiled at Felicity feeling the attraction toward her again. "Ah want you to take a deep breath very slowly and see if you have any pain sharp or dull and where it is. You may have a cracked or broken rib."
"Alright, but my friends call me Felice." She inhaled deeply.
"A little dull pain there," indicating the place where the swelling was.
"See if you can sit up." Felice did so with no problem, the sheet falling off her breasts. She grabbed it quickly. Serena pretended not to notice, but inhaled sharply at the sight of rosy mounds, pink nipples. She imagined laving them with her tongue, suckling.... Forcing her mind back to the injuries, she told Felice she had wrapped her ankle with the yarrow and was going to apply some to her ribs. Felice sat up, lifted her arms for Serena. Another yarrow- soaked pad was placed over the rib and bound with linen strips.
"My cook will bring you some broth or soup, but you ought to drink some of this tea, if you can."
"That feels very soothing, very good."
Serena smiled again, falling more under the spell of the green eyes.
"Here's a nightgown but it might be a tad large." Together, they got Felice into the garment, Serena lifting her bodily out of the bed. A soft knock at the door and Abigail came sailing in.
"Felicity Covington, this is Abigail, our cook and housekeeper." Abigail beamed at the small redhead and took the proffered hand.
"How's yo' feelin', Miss Felicity, wha' a pretty name."
"I'm feeling much better and I like to be called Felice," she said, smiling back at the large buxom cook.
"Miss Serena, yo' wants some dinner now?"
"Yes, bring it in here for us both."
Felice brightened at the sound of food. Serena poured her a cup of tea and handed it to her. "This is peppermint tea with honey. It will ease your headache and calm you."
"Thanks, my head has finally stopped pounding."
"Well, you took a heavy hit. No wonder you were knocked out."
"I do remember you jumping on the man, just before I passed out. That was marvelous."
Serena never liked to be thanked, it made her feel uncomfortable. She smiled and took the cup from Felice. "If you can sit up, we'll fix a bed tray, but tell me if you hurt." The injured woman raised up, Serena slid a pillow behind her, and eased her back.
"No pain" she said.
The cook came in with a stacked tray of china plates, cups and saucers, silverware, white napkins and two small cloths. Behind her appeared a wiry young woman with two trays of covered dishes. Felice took a deep breath and remarked "That smells delicious."
"Miss Felice, yo' cain't be too hurt iffn yo' that hungry," laughed Abigail.
Felice blushed delicately and Cassia smiled with her.
"Abbie is de bes cook in Carolina."
"Go along, Cass, you'd like anybody who'd cook you pound cake." All this while, Abbie had placed the trays on a small table while Serena got out a bed tray from the chiffarobe. This she put over Felice's lap and set it with a white cloth, silverware, delicate china dishes and cup and saucer. Cass had done the same on a small table which she had placed next to the bed.
On the bed tray was set a cup of chicken broth, a bowl of rich brown soup with tiny chunks of chicken, carrots, potatoes and tiny new field peas, a dessert plate with a fresh sliced peach, and several slices of fresh baked bread. Abigail poured her a cup of coffee and offered cream and sugar. Cass was serving Serena slices of chicken with peas and bread. Coffee was poured and the cook and maid left the two to their meal.
"Where do you live, Felice? I'll have Samuel take a message..."
"No, please," she said, rather desperately, "I'd rather you wouldn't."
"But surely your family'll be worried a.."
"I have no family here," she said softly "I'm not from here. I"m from New York." This rather defiantly.
Serena persisted, "I'll do whatever you wish but, if you're visiting someone, they'll be looking for you, won't they?"
"I'm not visiting any one. I, well, I'm a governess."
"Being a governess can be a less than fruitful propostion", remarked Serena. "Where were you employed? It has to be somewhere close unless you've walked all day."
Felice smiled at that.
"Mr. Phileas Gates hired me in '59 to teach his three children. I've been there ever since and.."
Serena broke in "and don't care for him, her or their lovely children. I've known them for years. Field Place is not a properous plantation. I wouldn't think he had enough money to hire you."
"I get room and board."
"He pays you no salary?"
"No."
"And you don't wish to go back?"
"Not now. I've never been treated so kindly before. And Mr. Gates is..."
"A womanizer of the first order", said Serena and gritted her teeth at the prospect of him chasing Felice.
"Yes," was the only answer. Felice noticed the clenched jaw and jumping muscle. Serena reached and laid her hand on the other woman's. The contact was electric for them both.
"Well, he won't bother you any more. You tell me what you wish to do and Ah'll make any arrangements necessary. But I hope that y'all stay here for a while." What she secretly wished was that the beautiful green-eyed Felice would stay forever. 'Why her, what is it about her?' Serena wondered. They were interrupted by a knock. Serena removed her hand, not noticing the way Felice laid it lovingly on her breast and touched it where Serena's had.
"Come in."
Heah's yo' pen and paper, Miss Serena" and Cassia handed the items to her."Is y'all finished?" Felice had finished long before and Serena asked if she would like another serving.
"No, thank you. That was the best meal I've had in years."
"Well, that was hardly a meal. You waits til Abigail fixes som'thin' t' eat. Then, you know yous had a MEAL," remarked Cass, emphasizing the last word. She removed the tray from Felice's lap tray and began stacking the bowls and dishes.
"Cass, ask Isaiah to bring Obed up to the house, please."
"He already heah, waiting." She left with the trays and Serena began composing her note. Felice eased herself into a more comfortable position and immediately, Serena was up helping her.
"Are you hurting somewhere?"
"No, just getting comfortable. Your slaves are a very cheerful and happy group."
"Felice, here at Camellia Court, we have no slaves. Never have had any. All the people you will meet are freemen and freewomen. They may leave when they choose, go where they want. No one besides my brother and they themselves know that. If the other plantation owners knew, I'd be lynched and all of them would be stolen. Now, I have bought Africans, but only a family group or some young girl or boy and only to keep them from goin' somerwhere they'd be abused. We teach'em a trade or help them develop their talents, Then, if they wish, they can go north or over to Europe. I've even sent some back to Africa."
The woman looked at her in astonishment.
"But, ever since I've been here, all I've heard is-you need slaves to work. Besides, how do you know I'll not reveal your secret? We don't know each other," responded Felice.
"I do not know why I believe it or how I know, but I do believe it. You keep trust", said Serena seriously, looking deeply into the emerald eyes.
The redhead turned pink with the compliment and said simply "Thank you."
"Now, Ah'm going to give this note to Obed and will come right back. Ah'd like to change the poultice. I'll be sending Sara in to help you refresh." With that, Serena walked out.
Felice lay there looking up at the ceiling, just realizing that her life, if she wished, would be turned completely around. The wonderful woman who had rescued her wanted her to stay. She clung to that fact as she cast her mind back to the first day she had experienced at Field Place. What a contrast to the attention and cheerfulness here. Sara came in to help her use the chamber pot and told her that Miss Serena would be back shortly. She had brought in another bowl with the yarrow poultice.
"How're you feelin', Miss Felice?"
"A little tired and sore, but better. Sara, were you a slave before?"
"I's born here, Miss Felice but ah ain't no slave. Never was, ain' none of us. The Colonel or Miss Serena doan believe in slaves. Oh, I ain' sposed to say nothin'."
"Don't you worry, I won't let any one know. Besides, Serena already told me."
"Miss Serena is the most special mistress in the world. She want me to go off to learn to sing, but I doan know iffens I wants to."
"Where would you go?" queried Felice.
"She says a place called Italy or France, but theys a long ways away."
Serena came in and remarked "You will have to practice more before you decide where you'd like to go."
"Yes m'am."
"Now, Sara, help lift Miss Felice and hold her up while I take off the bandages. Then, you help me wrap fresh ones and w'ill let her rest." The two efficiently changed the poultice on the rib cage and ankle, then let the small woman down on the bed.
"You may go, Sara. I've sent everyone to bed but you stay in the kitchen case we need somethin'."
"Good night"
Serena settled herself by the bed, resting her hand on the side.
"Are you feelin' any pain, any aches?"
Felice smiled up at her sleepily. "No, I feel just fine. I don't know how to thank you."
"Well, we'll leave it until tomorrow and any decisions you need to make. You sleep now, I'll be right here if you need anything." Felice could barely keep her eyes open. The last thing she remembered was looking up at Serena who was smiling down at her. Serena pulled the sheet up to her neck and settled the pillow, then sat back down. A small hand slid under hers and she spent the remainder of the night lightly clasping it as she dozed.
Jan's hand let the journal slip as she finished the entry for May 15. Both women were were enthralled by the story. Jan murmured "It's like reading a history book about yourself."
"Well, Ah never thought my gran would have acted like that", said Mel. About that time, Pandora knocked on the door with some coffee and tea.
"Thought y'all might lak' a drink."
"Yes, thank you."
"What y'all find out in them books?"
"We just started, haven't learned too much yet." Jan downed a cup of coffee and picked up the journal.
"Ready for some more?"
Mel gave her a kiss and they snuggled down for the next installment.
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