The Dixie Widow by Gilbert Morris Read Free Book Online Page A

every other man in the room.
    Belle was wearing a black dress as usual, but it was no ordinary widow’s garment. The gown was made of black silk and shimmered with shifting radiance, reflecting the thousands of lights from the candles. It was not low cut, as were many of the dresses in the room, but it clung to her so snugly that the curves of her body were apparent. A single pearl hung from a golden chain around her neck—and the simplicity of that one piece of jewelry made every other woman in the room look over-adorned. Her glossy black hair fell down her back like a shining waterfall, enhancing the queenly air she bore as she walked lightly across the room with one hand on Davis’s arm.
    Davis wheeled his grandfather’s chair to the left, and the men at the table most distant from where Robert and Jewel sat rose at once. As Davis assisted his grandfather to a chair,three officers moved quickly, almost falling over one another to help him.
    Edwin Stanton had been watching the entrance, and now echoed Colonel Wilder’s question, “Who is that with your family, Jewel?”
    For once Mrs. Winslow was speechless, and Robert was forced to explain. “That young lady, Mr. Stanton, is Mrs. Belle Wickham, a relative of mine. She’s—come to help my father since my son is leaving for England.”
    It was the best he could do, and both he and Jewel fervently hoped the trio would be forgotten, but Stanton persisted. “Where is she from, Winslow?”
    Robert gave up all hope of anonymity for Belle, and plunged in boldly. “Why, sir, she’s from Richmond.” He got the hum of surprise he expected, and went on smoothly, “You’ll be interested in her story, I think. You don’t have many opportunities to meet converted Rebels—especially one as beautiful as Mrs. Wickham.”
    His words startled everyone, and Stanton exclaimed, “What in the world do you mean—’converted Rebel’?”
    “The lady is a daughter of one of my family, Mr. Sky Winslow, who is a special advisor to Jefferson Davis,” Robert said. “She was married to Captain Vance Wickham, of the Third Virginia Infantry.” It had grown very quiet at the table, for everyone was hanging on Robert’s words and staring across the room at Belle, who sat between the captain and Davis.
    “She’s a widow, then?” Colonel Wilder asked.
    “Yes. Her husband was killed at Antietam.”
    Stanton was intrigued. “You’ve got courage, Winslow, bringing the enemy to this ball. I’d like to speak with her; come along and introduce me.”
    He rose and Colonel Wilder promptly joined him as Robert led the way across the room. “Mrs. Wickham, may I present Mr. Stanton, the secretary of war—and his aide, Colonel Wilder?”
    Belle nodded. “How do you do, Mr. Stanton—Colonel Wilder.”
    “May we join you?” Stanton asked, which was a broad hint to the three officers seated at the table to leave. They rose hurriedly and scurried away with disappointment on their faces. Stanton took a seat directly across from Belle, leaving the places beside him for Robert and Wilder.
    Belle asked immediately, “Have you come to arrest a poor Rebel, Mr. Stanton?”
    Stanton was taken off guard by her piquant smile, and her beauty rendered him speechless for an instant. She had the most enormous eyes he had ever seen, almond-shaped, violet in color, and shaded by long, thick eyelashes. Stanton was no ladies’ man, but the creamy complexion, the curving red lips, and the smooth white neck formed a combination he had never observed in any woman.
    Besides this, her direct teasing question pleased him. He was not a man anyone ever joked with, and he realized she was doing exactly that. He well knew that he was the most feared man in Washington—indeed, he had sought to be exactly that—and now this beautiful young woman sat there, smiling at him, daring him to answer.
    When he said, “Why, certainly not, Mrs. Wickham!” Robert breathed a sigh of relief, for he knew an arrest could have