"Yeah, uh huh….I can’t believe he flew all the way here to deliver the chip! I told him not to do that!" she replied, pausing over Rollie’s shoulder and looking at the enhancement to the image over Luce’s face.
 
 

"Seems he is taken with you, Mrs. Tyler…" Rollie replied, sinking his teeth into his lower lip in concentration and dithering the image slightly as he waited for the image to return.
 
 

"Now don’t start that!" she warned him gripping his shoulder and walking past him as she picked up the print-out of the image over Rollie’s back that wore the Confederate uniform.
 
 

"Start what, dear?"
 
 

"He’s a friend, a business friend…and makes a pretty nice chip. And now, heck, he’s also got the inside track on this image here…!"
 
 

"So whatcha think? Who’s the guy behind me there?"
 
 

"Double exposure maybe…one of the extras in uniform maybe standing nearby...I don’t know."
 
 

"Hmmm, then maybe you can try to explain this face?" Rollie asked, smiling suddenly, proud of his own skill on Angie’s graphics program as she stepped up and her eyes widened suddenly in surprise.
 
 

"Who is that?"
 
 

It was clearly a woman’s face and not a double exposure of Lucinda’s face. The woman’s features were much smaller, more delicate and the hair framing the face was light. Although the image was gray scale, like radiological film, there was no mistaking the face of a young woman and the unsettling fact that she appeared absolutely terrified.

Lucinda was getting fitted for the ballroom scene in which her character, Siobhan O’Bralley would be introduced to John Grant’s character for the first time. John would be playing Hunter Eventyn, son of the wealthy tobacco grower, Braxton Eventyn of Eventyn Plantation. Judd, when he wasn’t playing the will-o’-the-wisp, had a second part of playing a young Union soldier who falls in love with the Irish indentured servant of Eventyn Plantation during the Seven Day War. Hunter Eventyn would form a love triangle as such in the movie, strictly from a lustful position.
 
 

Lucinda smiled inwardly as the wardrobe mistress tightened the corset strings behind her. She barely blinked. She was thinking of John Grant being on set soon and she was barely able to contain herself. Playing a romantic part against him and well, more than enough exposure in this film could really jump-start her career again. After Tomb Raiders, she had hit a slump and was all but a forgotten fifteen-minute ET exposure actress.
 
 

"Ms. Scott, you have a phone call. I’ll bring the remote phone…" announced an aide who had walked into the wardrobe trailer. Lucinda smiled, knowing that it had to be Marvin and he would be asking when he could come down. She then sighed, having the phone handed to her and she prepared her speech in her mind before uttering the first word;
 
 

"Marvin?"
 
 

"Hi…"
 
 

"When can I come down?"
 
 

"Uh…probably the seventeenth? We are pretty much tied up tight here right now, and don’t take this wrong, baby, but I don’t want any distractions, okay?"
 
 

"That’s two weeks!"
 
 

"I know….I know…." And she moaned slightly, to show some empathetic support for him.
 
 

"It’s just that…I can’t think about anything else but you…I getting a bad reputation around here!"
 
 

"What? You’re being a mean old Captain!"
 
 

"No, that’s my norm- no, it’s frightening and they are all running scared. I have actually been so polite and cordial to people, they are starting to panic. The IA chief came over yesterday and wanted to know if I was on drugs!"
 
 

Lucinda laughed, and Marvin Vanduran drowned in the sound of it. He never tired of her and her zany antics. She was so different from any woman he had ever known. But he also felt like panicking sometimes, as if one day she would just vanish and he wouldn’t know how to survive. She had become his air…his breath of life.
 
 

"Marvin…I need to go. I have a zillion things to do today and well, my costar flies in today…we have to go over a crucial scene for tomorrow."
 
 

"Yeah, I like that Tim Daly guy…he was on that plane show, uh Propellers?"
 
 

"Wings, sweetie, Wings…and well, Tim got caught up in a wrap up ending situation and so, we were very lucky to get and hold on to your nightstick, baby- John Grant!"
 
 

"Who?"
 
 

"John Grant!"
 
 

"Oh…he that snot-nosed kid from that remake movie about the sixties show, the F-Team?"
 
 

Lucinda laughed again. It was obvious that Marvin had limited exposure to television or the movie industry. Still, it was endearing to her.
 
 

"Yeah, that’s him…well, gotta go baby!"
 
 

"Love you…"
 
 

"Love you…see you soon…"
 
 

Lucinda punched the phone to off and sighed. The wardrobe mistress motioned for her to lift up her arms and as she obeyed, absent-mindedly, as a swoosh of fabric surrounded her head and finally settled at her waist.
 
 

"Well Mammy, I just got to have this dress ready for the Cotillion. Mr. Rhett will be there, you know…"
 
 

Alice Hayes, wardrobe mistress rolled her eyes and in keeping with Lucinda’s mocking words, replied;
 
 

"Yes, Ms. Scarlet, Mr. Rhett will find himself a beautiful, young lady at the dance in this dress."
 
 

Lucinda admired the full hooped skirt and the rich, sky blue satin as it shimmered slightly in the light of the trailer in front of the full-length mirror.
 
 

"Cool…" she murmured as she twisted her lips up in a bewitching smile.

Gary Sanderlin had dismissed the F/X team from the noon shoot. Since the scenes had been renumbered and order changed, some skirmish battle shooting would be taking place a few miles up the Chickahominy River. Rollie and Angie wouldn’t be needed until the actual explosion scenes from canon fire in full battle shots that afternoon.
 
 

"Okay, we’ve got the enhanced pictures of those images and we have some time…what say we dig up some history of this place?" Rollie asked, as Angie sat down on their bed in the motel room, yawning.
 
 

"How about some sleep instead?" she asked, grateful that Mrs. Gallagher had taken Aidan for a canal boat ride along the James River. At least someone was having fun in the family, she thought, missing him.
 
 

"Ange, come on! You know the screenwriter of this movie actually is a descendant of the Eventyn family? You know the old homestead is still there? Come on, where’s your sense of adventure?" Rollie asked, pulling on her arm.
 
 

"It’s in this bed, under the covers, eyes shut and snoring…" she responded, moaning slightly.
 
 

He almost pouted and she got up slowly; "okay…okay- but please, don’t embarrass me on the tour, okay? Remember that tour up at the DuPont Mansion in Delaware?"
 
 

"What? Just because I knew where the secret passageway was and uh, stole some of that old blue haired lady’s thunder?"
 
 

"Just promise me, you won’t go wander off and please, don’t argue with the tour guide, okay?"
 
 

"Okay…" he promised, crossing his heart as she shook her head.
 
 

"Why do I get the feeling that your promise is likely to be broken?"
 
 

"You’re such a pessimist!"

Eventyn Plantation stood on rich, three hundred-year-old tobacco harvested land. Tobacco was still being grown on the six hundred-acre plantation as it had been from the beginning. Rollie and Angie drove up in their rental car, admiring the view on entry from whitewashed, stone pillars covered in clinging English Ivy. On either side of the crushed seashell dirt road were old, flowering Magnolia trees. Angie could smell the fragrance in the warm, slightly humid breeze as she smiled seeing the main house ahead of them.
 
 

True to traditional Greek Revival, Southern style, the house had a main entrance on both sides…one for the James River entrance travelers who came by ship and one for the Route 5 entrance, known as the old Williamsburg Road, for travelers arriving by land.
 
 

As they left their car in designated parking lot, they walked up the drive the final hundred yards toward the main entrance. The smell of English boxwood and honeysuckle were overwhelming. A small gathering of tourists was waiting for the next tour by the limestone steps. Rollie was marveling at the wrought-iron butterfly wedges in the stone as Angie noted the hundreds of years in weathering of the steps, seeing how they dipped slightly, the edging now smoothed to a rounded droop.
 
 

They didn’t wait long. They were brought inside the main receiving hall. A tour guide, dressed in antebellum dress greeted them in warm, Southern hospitality. As they were led toward the main drawing room, Angie turned back. She had felt a sudden, cold stab of air run through her and she was amazed to see a portrait, hanging over the door. It was over ten feet high itself and incredibly magnetizing to her.
 
 

"Miss? We’re all in the drawing room…" she heard the tour guide remind her as she looked at the guide for a second but quickly, turned her back on her, to stare at the portrait of the young man over the door.
 
 

"Who is that?" Angie asked, her voice no louder than a whisper.
 
 

"We will get to Mr. Hunter Eventyn, soon enough…we save the Master of Eventyn for last…" the girl told her, smiling.
 
 

"Okay…." Angie replied, seeing Rollie poke his head out of the drawing room. She joined the group and Rollie raised an eyebrow at her, smiling.
 
 

"I’m getting some pretty interesting vibes here, Rol…" she told him as they continued on the tour.
 
 

After touring twenty rooms in the mansion and knowing that there were over fifty, according to the guide, it was amazing to not get swept up in the grandeur of the period of time when Eventyn was at its peak. Angie was lagging behind the group in most of the rooms as Rollie kept up with the crowd, listening to every detail. By the time they reached the front hallway again, Angie had almost missed the beginning introduction to the portrait of Hunter Eventyn over the entranceway.
 
 

"Now, this is the Master of Eventyn Plantation, Mr. Hunter Eventyn. His father, Braxton Eventyn died during the Battle of Seven Pines. It was Hunter who took over Eventyn for some two years until the conclusion of the Civil War and the burning of Richmond when Ulysses S. Grant came through to seize the Confederate capitol. Hunter was known for his tenacious claims of never surrendering, even knowing that defeat was at hand. It was said that he took all of the slaves and the indentured servants and lined them up at the front of Eventyn as human shields when the Union soldiers pressed hard to sweep the entire route of the old Williamsburg Road. It was known that he possessed a rather large quantity of slaves himself and in fact, there was rumor that he sired several children as well from his slaves and servants."
 
 

Rollie rolled his eyes, knowing the dramatic flair that the tour guide had taken on as some of the tourists exclaimed their "oh’s" and "ah’s". Angie, however was still staring pensively at the portrait of Hunter Eventyn.
 
 

"What?" he asked her, waving a hand in front of her eyes.
 
 

"I don’t know…maybe it’s the eyes or something…" she whispered. The man in the portrait was incredibly handsome and mystical to her. He was dressed in a rather, informal dress for the time, not in jacket and cravat but standing with riding breeches, boots, and an open, white, billowed, yoked shirt. His hair, long and raven black was wavy and painted as if the wind was blowing in a circle around him, not from one angle or another.
 
 

"So, this is the character that John Grant is playing in our movie," Rollie commented, smiling as he looked up in somewhat awe, himself.
 
 

"Tour’s over folks," announced the guide as Angie came back to reality and followed the tour guide’s invitation to leave. She led them toward the James River Entrance, to let them leave the house and tour the full gardens on the riverside. As Angie neared the door, she noticed a small painting of a woman out of the corner of her eye, in a room off of the H-shaped hallway. The door to the small room was slightly ajar and she had not noticed this room before. They definitely had not toured this room and she stopped in her tracks, seeing the painting over the small fireplace from a distance of ten feet away. The woman’s face was familiar to her, the eyes attracting Angie.
 
 

"Who is that?" Angie asked, as the rather irritated tour guide huffed and looked in the direction that Angie had pointed. Rollie stepped back and followed the direction of Angie’s inquiry.
 
 

"This room is not on tour. It is the present owner’s private living area. The door should be shut. Please, go on outside now!" the guide snapped as Angie made a disappointed face. The guide shut the door quickly but not before a puff of cigar smoke encircled the door, and then wandered in a small curl into the hallway.
 
 

There was someone in that room, the owner? Angie thought, suspiciously as they were almost pushed out the door. So much for Southern hospitality, Angie told herself as they found themselves looking at a spectacular view of the James River and English gardens on a rolling hill below them.
 
 

"So, you found my little Irish lass interesting?" asked a husky, southern accented voice from behind them.
 
 

Angie and Rollie turned together. They were both expecting Colonel Sanders but the man that stood behind them was a pale comparison to the portrait of Hunter Eventyn in the front hallway.
 
 

"Ah, sorry…I didn’t mean to pry in there…" Angie offered, lowering her eyes for a second as Rollie offered his hand;
 
 

"Rollie Tyler…we’re working on the movie up the way there…thought we’d see the place that inspired the movie," he told the man, almost gregariously.
 
 

"Ah…you are the F/X man…and you must be his wife, Angela…" replied the man, his pale eyes, slightly masked by the noon sun draping a shadow directly from a large oak’s branch directly over him.
 
 

"Yes! And you are?" Angie asked, squinting as she tried to make better eye contact.
 
 

"The name is Hunter Eventyn, the Fourth," he answered as Angie’s mouth opened slightly, "I believe you were inquiring about my picture over the fireplace in my study?"
 
 

Angie almost stuttered out "yes" as Rollie swallowed, surprised that the owner of this mansion would care to talk to tourists.
 
 

"Come back inside, please. I’ll give you a better look at her…" he offered as Angie smiled and Rollie was frankly, taken back. The man, his ease with them, strangely affected him.
 
 

They walked back inside, the tour guide looking at them with slight reproach but was admonished with a wave of the hand by the present owner. He showed them inside the small study and the aroma of the sweet tobacco from his cigar permeated the air. Angie tried not to cough as she walked over to the mantle and gazed up at the painting. It was small, compared to the rest of the family portraits in the house. The quality was not the same, the condition not as well preserved. But the beauty and the features of the woman were incredible! Both Rollie and Angie looked at each other before turning back to Hunter Eventyn, the Fourth and apparent last of his line.
 
 

"Who is she?" they asked, almost in unison.
 
 

"Ah…she is my great-grandmother…" he began and then sat down in his high back, maroon leather chair looking up at them and smiling; "I believe however, you know her in your movie as… Siobhan O’Bralley."
 
 

Angie looked from him back to the portrait in a double take. She felt the hair on her head slightly rise as she looked to Rollie to see if he had realized what she had. His brown eyes seemed almost unfocused for a moment as he then looked down at her and mouthed the words she knew as well;
 
 

"She’s the one…the double image over Lucinda’s face!"