Civil War Short Story Critque

@esther-c @kyronthearcanin @freedomwriter76 @acancello @gwyndalf-the-wise @anyone

Hi guys!
This is a really old short story of mine. I’ve decided not to turn it into a novel, but I’d still like to hone it and fix it up. Edits/opinions/ideas are appreciated!!

The ballroom was a sea of bobbing and floating colors. Even the oppressive Alabama heat could not stop the guests from coming in the hundreds. Sure, the room was moderately arrayed and the air dreadfully stifling, but the war-weary souls of the people needed this time together so badly that they were willing to brave the steamy ballroom.

 

As with all balls, there was one couple who held the attention of the entire room. A slender girl with milky skin and dark curls in a wine colored satin and a sandy-haired young man in a crude gray uniform. They were the subject of many stares and pointed fingers even late into the  evening and they seemed to know it. Yet it didn’t appear to bother them in the slightest.

 

During a slow waltz, the girl in the wine colored stain laid her head on the rough colorless wool of her partner’s chest.

 

“Are you ready, Will?” She whispered so only her could hear.

 

He gave a nearly invisible nod. They continued moving to the music, simply another blur of color in the swirling sea of dresses and uniforms. Will lifted his head and saw with relief that nearly every couple was dancing, leaving only a few loners stranded on the edges of the ballroom. Very slowly and quite invisibly, he and his girl made their way to a wide doorway, still dancing.

 

And like a flash, Will drew his partner off the dance floor and into the vacant room. The two young people hurried through several more dark rooms and up a wide flight of stairs before catching their breath.

 

“Will,” the girl panted breathlessly, “where did they tell us to look again?”

 

“In his private office, Emma,” Will grabbed her by the wrist. “Hurry, darling. We haven’t much time.”

 

Emma and Will hurried through the beautiful southern mansion with the stars and moon shining through the paned windows as their only guide. Emma was glad to let Will lead. She certainly didn’t know where she was going, much less how to get there. Will had been briefed by their leader; she had not.

 

After several minutes that stretched on like hours and Emma was certain they were in the depth of the mansion, they rounded a corner and were rewarded by the sight of a vacant candle-lit study. Magnolia wood bookshelves, ornately carved, stretched toward the tiled ceiling, crammed full of ledgers and delicately bound books. Piles of old papers scattered on the desk lay vulnerable to the dripping wax candles. The only other light came from the open high rectangular window.

 

The young couple stood for a moment, breathing hard, until Emma snapped herself away from the spell and hurried inside.

 

“Come, Will. We’ve only a few minutes.”

 

The sound of Emma’s voice brought will back to reality. He hurried to help her sift through the massive piles of parchments. Any little flicker of the candles sent both of them glancing toward the door. Caught being here would spell certain death for Will and return home for Emma. Neither would be able to accomplish the task they had been sent for: collecting information against George Harman’s desertion of the army. The Northern Spy officials were certain he was guilty. Emma and Will has simply been sent to find enough evidence to convict him. They had to do this without Emma getting discovered and sent back to her Confederate father or Will being discovered to be a spy.

 

“No, no, no!” Emma murmured, flipping through a recorded book. Suddenly out of the pages dropped a yellowed piece of paper, folded and ink-marred. It fell softly, rustling the soft satin of Emma’s dress. Will turned to look as she bent to pick it up.

 

“What is it?”

 

Emma opened the letter, her fingers fumbling in haste. Will came to read over her shoulder. They read silently, breathing hard from their search, yet trying to keep their noise down. Emma gasped and put a hand to her mouth.

 

Will whistled appreciatively. “Nice going, Em. This is exactly what we’ve-”

 

Will’s whisper was interrupted by the echoing of boots stomping up the stairwell. “Are you sure you saw them go up here?” A quiet male voice asked, beginning to round the corner.

 

Panicked, Will grabbed Emma by her wrist again and yanked her out the door, back into the dark. Together they raced up another flight of stairs, feeling their way in the dark, flying around corners (Emma lost her shoes around the third one) in search of an open door. Will rattled doorknobs as quietly as possible, muttering angrily as none yielded to his twisting. Finally after what felt like ages, one ancient knob fell off its door at his feet. He threw his weight against the door, shoved Emma inside and held the door closed.

 

Panting and enjoying the adrenaline of the moment, Emma looked at Will and laughed nervously. “I think we lost them!”

 

Will, however, was in no mood for hoping yet. Panic seizing him like an icy fist, he grabbed a surprised Emma roughly by her shoulders.

 

“The paper,” he breathed in her face. “The paper, Em.” The beads of sweat on his forehead reflected the moonlight from the window like fine crystal. “Please, please tell me you didn’t drop that paper.”

Emma bit her lip and looked down.

 

Will collapsed, groaning, running his hands over his face. Something light and fragile dropped into his lap. He peeked through his hands and reached with trembling fingers to pick up the folded it. The evidence. Their hope and the hope of their cause.

 

Emma stood over him, hands on her hips. “I thought you had more faith in me that that, Will Frazier,” she huffed, fiddling with the ruby charm around her neck.

 

Will stood and took her hand. “My dear Miss Conner,” he whispered, kneeling. “You have saved us. I apologize from the deepest part of my being.”

 

He straightened, the boyish look of happiness twinkling in his eyes. “The spymaster will rest easy to have this in his hands.”

 

Emma grinned.

 

But her grin faded as they heard the footsteps closing in again, this time faster and louder. Will yanked Emma’s arm and they ran further into the ancient mansion.