We re-entered the house and Beauregard escorted me to my suite of rooms on the second floor where I could dress for dinner while he awaited the arrival of the other guests. Beau suggested I acquaint myself with the house and feel free to roam. The upstairs bedrooms were separated by a Great Hall which was cut in half by stairs that went up and down and up again, Alice in Wonderland herself would be confused. Beau’s extensive collection of silver and crystal knife rests lined the Hall and his family’s portraits hung from walls. It was very quiet; the paintings seemed to whisper secrets of Beau’s family’s glorious past between one another. Each bedroom had its own ornate marble fireplace (I counted eight) and bathrooms decorated in shades of blue, pink and green accented with gold. Doors stood at both ends of the Great Hall that led outside to a balcony that wrapped from one side of the house to the other, the imposing size of the dozens of columns holding the balcony up gave me an undeniable sensation of vertigo.

Downstairs on the right side of the house lay an exquisitely furnished formal parlor. A charming touch that immediately caught my eye was a table set for tea as if Belles in hoop skirts and petticoats were to arrive at any moment. Across the hall was the formal dining room with walls papered in silk moiré that glimmered from the light of the crystal chandeliers and wall sconces. Through a door I walked into a surprisingly modern kitchen with adjoining breakfast room decorated in lovely rattan settees and tables, the upholstery was in bold yellow prints, original from the 1950s and like the house itself, in pristine condition.

As the guests began to arrive, Beau beckoned me into the Receiving Room. Though less formal than the front rooms, this room had the sort of smart decor one might find in a cosmopolitan city: traditional sofas, modern art and a grand piano. Adjacent to the Receiving Room was the Study, decorated in a more exotic manner with the most elaborate portieres I have ever seen. Beau referred to them as "Scarlett O'Hara’s dress.”

 To my surprise dinner was not to be held in Beau’s shimmering Dining Room, but in the next state! We hopped in Beau’s car and drove to a hidden gem of a restaurant in the city of Opelika, Alabama. Imagine my surprise! The meal was heavenly, the conversation witty and the host most gracious. Upon our return to Peckerwood, I discovered all the guests were spending the night, an eminently logical situation as they had all traveled considerable distances. The formality we retained earlier in the evening quickly evaporated, as all the other guests had stayed with Beau before and were familiar with the customs of his Southern home. Everyone disappeared to their assigned rooms only to reappear a short time later in luxurious robes. Not having been informed of Beau’s after dinner dress code, I immediately felt ill at ease only to be informed that there was a robe waiting for me in my bathroom should I choose to make myself comfortable. We finished the evening sipping night caps, thoroughly exhausted from the day’s events yet giddy as chambermaids not wanting the fun to end. When the evening drew to its close, I bid my host a good-night and retired to my room with the knowledge, that after all, "tomorrow is another day."