The shriek of approaching sirens awakened Arabella Sherman. Startled, she looked around the moonlit room. Where am I? This isnt my bedroom! Oh, now I remember. She smiled. Im at Magnolia Manor! She sat up in bed, stretched, and yawned.

Did I really hear sirens? She sniffed the air. Smoke! She leaped out of bed, grabbed her peignoir, flung open the French doors, and rushed onto the balcony that ran across the front of the antebellum house. The smoke and a red glow seemed to come from the side and rear of the house. She stretched over the railing to try to see the source yet she still could not see any flames. I wonder if the old carriage house could be on fire!

As she strained to get a better look, an ambulance came racing around the house and down the long drive. Who could be in the ambulance? Unable to see the fire, Arabella stepped back and watched the lights of the ambulance disappear towards the road to town. A few minutes later a hook and ladder fire truck followed the ambulance. Arabella swung her eyes away from the driveway and glanced once again toward the rear of the house. The red glare had faded away. Evidently the fire was under control.

Stirred by the whisper of the evening breeze, Arabellas white chiffon peignoir floated around the pink satin nightgown that hugged her slender, petite body. Her long blond hair hung down her back in a loose braid. Arabella clung to the railing and surveyed the grounds stretching below her.

A manicured lawn reached like a green velvet carpet down to the river. Through a slight haze from the fire, Arabella could see the water sparkling in the full moon. Magnolia and live oak trees, dripping with Spanish moss, cast eerie shadows along the driveway. Blooming dogwood and redbud trees were scattered among the formal gardens edging the lawn. Arabella lifted her face to savor the fragrance of blooming azaleas, camellias, and gardenias that drifted through the spring air. The aroma aroused happy memories and she dreamily thought about the many summers she had spent at Magnolia Manor while she was growing up. Although her parents had moved to New York when Arabella was very young, they had vacationed at the Manor every year.

Located on the Ashley River across from Charleston, South Carolina, Arabellas great-great-great grandfather named the stately house Magnolia Manor when it was a flourishing plantation. Severely damaged during the Civil War, the house had been slowly rebuilt over the years.

Before the war, the family had invested in a shipping company to market their cotton. As the shipping business became more profitable after the war, the family fortune grew and the vast acreage of the plantation was gradually sold except for the ten acres that now surrounded the Manor.

Arabella was devastated when her parents were killed in an airplane crash while she was in college. Inheriting their fathers holdings in the shipping company, Arabella and Francis, her older brother, were well off financially. Cherishing his freedom, Francis disappeared somewhere in Europe. Her only contact with him was an occasional postcard from exotic places and unusual gifts at Christmas and for her birthday.

Following in the family traditionher father was a lawyer and her grandfather and great-grandfather were judgesArabella completed her education and earned a law degree. Currently employed by a prestigious law firm in Washington, D.C., she specialized in corporate law. In response to a telephone call from her ill grandfather, Andrew Sherman, she had arrived at the Manor late that evening from her apartment in Alexandria, Virginia.

Lawsy, Miz Bella! Yall gonna catch yo death of cold out heah in yo night clothes!

Arabella jumped at the sound of the soft southern voice of her beloved nanny, and giggled. Oh, Mattie, you always could make me laugh when you lapsed into your slave speech. You outgrew that long ago when Mother taught you to read and write. She turned and threw her arms around Matties ample figure and gave her a big hug.

Humph! Well, you shouldnt be wandering round in your nightclothes, scolded the elderly servant. Her dark face gleamed in the moonlight. Best you come inside. I brought you a nice cup of hot chocolate.

Thank you, Mattie. But how did you know I was awake?

With all that racket out there? How could anybody sleep? I came up to check on your grandpa then thought Id just peek in your room. When I saw you standing out here, I went back to the kitchen and fixed the chocolate. I remembered how you used to like a nice cup before you went to sleep.

Arabella followed the servant back into the bedroom and sank onto a blue velvet chaise lounge. Mattie, do you know whats going on out there? I saw an ambulance and a fire truck leave a few minutes ago.

Mattie looked around and crossed herself. Oh, Miz Bella, there was a fire in the old carriage house and that poor fellow that was staying there was burnt in the fire. The carriage house had recently been remodeled into a two-car garage with an upstairs apartment.

What fellow? I didnt know anyone was living in the apartment. Who was it?

Best ask your grandpa, honey chile. Ah don know nuttin. Mattie rolled her eyes and crossed herself again.

Okay, Mattie. Goodnight. And thanks for the hot chocolate. Arabella glanced at the clock as Mattie withdrew and quietly closed the bedroom door. Its only midnight! She had arrived around ten and, tired from driving all day, went directly to bed. Stifling a yawn, she finished her drink and climbed back into bed. A few minutes later, she was sound asleep again.