The Rebel's Honor [antikvár]

Chapter OneIt was 1863 and autumn in the Shenandoah. It was a war year, as the past two had been and the next two would be as well. The colors of the Eastern United States were the Blue and Gray of bloody Civil War, but the slopes of the Virginia Blue Ridge Mountains were burning today with softer colors toobright golds and salmons marked sugar maples; darker reds and rusts showed chestnut, oak, and hickory; there appeared the occasional emerald of an evergreen. Along the base of Massanutten Mountain, the Shenandoah River curled like a satin ribbon, silver beneath the deepening blue of a sunset sky. Leanna Leighton shivered slightly in the growing coolness, watching the long, dark-blue column of Yankee cavalry winding over closer to the stone pillars that marked the entrance to Blytheswood. They stopped at the distant gate and slowly turned, starting down the long, graveled drive toward the white columned house. Huge chestnuts lining the way twined their top branches overhead, forming a living archway of entrance. In their shade, the dark blue of the Federal uniforms turned nearly to blacka grim and ominous contrast to the brilliant colors of the autumn mountains behind them.The breeze gusted again, cold enough to remind her of winter's approach, and Leanna shivered once more, reaching to touch the handle of the loaded dueling pistol she had concealed beneath her linen shawl. There were two balls in the chambers. If the Yankees were coming to loot the house, or burn it, or force themselves on the handful of women here, they would do so over her dead body. Blytheswood belonged to her, the only Penley left to hold it. Four generations, long dead, would beY1