A True Southern Belle

   "C-Cathleen? Cathleen Mariah?" Charlie would not have felt worse if all the blood were drained from her body.

"Yes, your cousin Cathleen. She's down stairs now."

Oh Good Lord! Cathleen was going to the Foster's Ball?

Charlie had hated Cathleen for years with a hatred reserved only for that girl.

Cathleen was fast, catty, and the most beautiful girl in the family. In the world too, probably.

Since they were little girls Cathleen had sneered at and tormented Charlie. She paid heavy emphasis on how beautiful she was, with her snow white skin, pink lips, and green eyes, and how homely Charlie had always been. Sun-burnt, tall, and big eyed. She tortured her about her red hair and how she always rode astride and saddled her own horses. Instead of having tea parties, playing with dolls, and embroidering Charlie had climbed trees and played ball with the boys. Cathleen held all those things over her and told the to Mrs. Winter just to get Charlie punished. Of course, Cathleen made Charlie's sisters jealous too, along with the three Bradford girls, but only Charlie did she bully.

 Yet Charlie gained heart. Cathleen would be forced to watch Charlie's conquests tonight because Charlie was not about to let her ruin her fun and revenge. She would die before she let that happen - and Charlie was an extremely healthy girl.

  A sly smile crossed her lips briefly before she composed her face into what she hoped were attractive lines. "I might just do that," Charlie said to Mary, resuming her fluid stride.

  She left the room, continuing until she reached the main hall, where her family was gathered.

  Mrs. Winter stood regally, all in lavender, her silvery blonde hair - silvery as Cathleen's - held high up on her proud head.

  Cathleen could have been a younger version of Mrs. Winter. A young, unmarried version. Cathleen was just a little bit more dazzling though, because of her lively youth. She stood a foot shorter than Charlie, a little plumper, but only since Charlie was thinner than a stick. Her dress was a bright lilac and set off her green eyes to perfection, making them look darker than they really were. Her skin was pale, as every girl's should be, her lips and cheeks were pink, with defining soft features. However, the only word to describe Cathleen was flashy. Her smile wavered when she saw Charlie.

  Jane was at the Foster's in a pink gown, and Mr. Winter was already in the carriage. Daniel would meet them there.

 It's going to be a nice night, isn't it? Charlie smiled to herself.

                                                                                  Chapter Five

   Charlie stood at the top of the stairs, surveying the crowd below. She caught sight of the Smith's, the Bradford's, the Whitcomb's, the Brooks's, and the Foster's, but there was no sign of Bella Twain or Jason Asher.

  She did not know that Jason observed her from an area slightly under the stairs where one, perhaps a hunter, could hide and watch prey without being watched by the prey. He did not recognize her at first and wondered who this attractive new beauty was. Then he examined the grim face as it molded itself into a forced but charming smile. A lightening bolt of shock struck him.

  Charlie was beautiful. Her hair was shining cherry red, decorated by a few blue flowers, with a few curls escaped their confines, twisting down her long neck. Her smile was bright and gay, though forced - somehow, unknown to him, he was the only one who could detect that it was forced (do we want to,  my dear reader, question why this was?) -  and her eyes shined with an exquisite liveliness.  They were appealing to him, those strong, crystal-door eyes, for he was the only person who truly knew and understood her.