The stays were so tight Camellia could hardly catch her breath.
Brigitte stepped back to reach for the hooped skirt that would form the basis for Camellia’s evening gown. “Bien. Vous sera magnifique…. Beautiful.”
“Merci, mademoiselle.” Camellia tried to take a deep breath, but the boning around her ribs and waist would not allow it. “Can you loosen this a bit?”
Brigitte shook her head, her lips folded into a straight line as she tightened the waist of the hoop skirt.
“It will be better after a moment.” Jane was already dressed, her maroon velvet gown a sharp contrast to her milky skin. One of the maids was combing her hair into elaborate swirls.
Camellia ignored the stab of jealousy. She refused to envy Jane. In fact, she would help her all she could. “I’ve never seen you look lovelier.” Another petticoat cut off her view for a moment before it settled around her waist. Brigitte cinched it with expert fingers.
“You will surely outshine me in that dress.”
“I don’t know.” Camellia panted while another petticoat followed the first. Then it was time for her ball gown. The silk sighed as it drifted down. It was as cool as springwater, and she knew it was a flattering color for her, but still … “If I look half as lovely as you, I’ll be satisfied.”
“Don’t be silly.” Jane turned her head back and forth to admire her new hairstyle. “You’re at least twice as pretty as I am.”
“Between us, we’ll attract all of the male attention.”
Brigitte clucked her tongue, looking for all the world like Mrs. Dabbs in spite of her darker hair and unlined face. But she didn’t say anything.
Camellia was glad. She wasn’t in the mood for a scold. Tonight was going to be difficult enough. She took Jane’s place at the dressing table, concentrating on her breathing as the maid twisted her hair into a knot. Of course it sprang loose the minute the maid reached for hairpins. “My hair will never lay smooth.”
Jane’s smiling face appeared in the mirror in front of her. “You don’t need smooth hair to be the belle of the ball. Just wait and see. You’ll never get to sit down.”
The maid finally managed to subdue the largest portion of her hair, but stray tendrils formed corkscrews around her face and at her neck. With that she would have to be satisfied. Jane passed her white gloves and a lacy gold fan to complete her outfit.
“Is it time to go downstairs?” Jane glanced toward Brigitte for the answer. Receiving a nod, she linked arms with Camellia. “Let’s go see what my brother thinks of the woman he’s going to marry.”
Chapter Sixteen
Camellia and Jane were still giggling as they descended the stairs, so Camellia failed to realize some of the guests had already arrived.
“Well, if it isn’t the two loveliest debutantes in New Orleans.” Captain Watkins’s deep voice stopped Camellia in midgiggle.
She stood still, forcing Jane to do the same or risk tumbling down six or seven steps. “Oh dear.”
Jane looked from her brother to her friend, a wide smile on her face. She leaned toward Camellia. “I think it’s a bit early for you to be calling him that.”
Camellia’s cheeks flamed. She glanced toward the small group of people in the foyer. Had anyone heard Jane’s teasing remark? Captain Watkins, standing head and shoulders above the other soldiers who had come with him, did not show any evidence of having heard the words. His dark eyes were full of appreciation.
Finally, Camellia realized everyone must think she had turned into a statue. What would Aunt Dahlia say if she could see her niece frozen with fear? She would tell her to get down to her guests and present a friendly, welcoming face. The internal lecture helped her to release her strong grip on Jane’s arm. Camellia took a deep breath and stepped out, her slippered feet moving as trained. She must float as though lifted a few inches above the ground. “I hope you will forgive our tardiness.” She glanced past the captain toward Mrs. Dabbs, who had taken up a position at the front door.
Captain Watkins bent over her hand. “You are worth waiting for.”
His voice was pitched low and, combined with the emotion in his dark eyes, caused excitement to spread upward from her stomach, bringing a rush of warm blood with it. “Th–Thank you, Captain.”
Jane cleared her throat. “It’s nice to see you, too, Thad.”
He winked at his sister. “You look lovely as always, Sister. You’re doing something different with your hair.”
Camellia nodded. “Doesn’t she look even more beautiful than usual?”
“Excuse me.” A plaintive voice from behind Captain Watkins drew her attention to the rest of the soldiers. “I believe we should be introduced to these two ladies.”
Captain Watkins’s grimace made Camellia smile. She watched his features as he turned to face the man. “If you insist. This is my sister, Miss Watkins. I warn you that I will not tolerate any of you breaking her heart or treating her with the least disrespect. The same holds true for her friend and mine, Miss Anderson. Not that I plan to let you have much chance to monopolize her.”
The men groaned at his words, each one bowing as Captain Watkins rattled off their names. Camellia recognized Lieutenant Baxter, the man who had dined with them last month, but the rest were a mishmash of names and faces. She might have managed one or two others, but Captain Watkins appropriated her hand as he practically spirited her away from the foyer.
With all of the candles glowing, the large room had been transformed into a magical setting akin to one from a fairy-tale world. The musicians had not started playing yet, so Camellia and the captain moved toward a section of empty chairs.
Camellia sat and arranged her skirts around her. Her waist felt pinched, but she ignored it. The admiration in her escort’s gaze was worth her pain. “I’m so glad you came tonight.”
Captain Watkins reached for her hand, encompassing it in both of his. “I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.”
Aware of the looks from some of the other students, she pulled her hand free. “Mrs. Dabbs must be delighted that you brought so many of your friends.”
“Now that was a true sacrifice.” He smiled at her, his teeth even and white, his eyes gleaming. “I hope I won’t have to compete with them too much for your attention.”
Heat warmed her cheeks once more, and Camellia glanced away. Her gaze traveled around the room as she considered how to answer him. Should she be coy? He was making his interest in her obvious. Perhaps she should let him know how much she admired him. But would that make him lose interest? For a moment she wished Aunt Dahlia had been able to come to New Orleans. She would know exactly how to advise her. But she hadn’t, so Camellia had no choice but to follow her instincts. She opened her fan and let it rest against her chin in an attitude of deep thought. “I wouldn’t want any of our brave soldiers to feel slighted.”
The captain straightened his spine.
Camellia raised her fan to hide her smile. His reaction, the fierce frown on his face and the way he glanced about the room, told her she’d responded in the best way possible.
The musicians began playing, and the others in attendance poured into the room from the foyer. Camellia looked around and saw that Jonah had arrived. But he was not standing near Jane. Instead he was chatting with some of Captain Watkins’s buddies. That was odd. What could he possibly have in common with them? She filed away the question for future consideration as the captain stood.
“Please dance with me.” He held out a hand.
Camellia put away her fan, fumbling to draw out the moment. The captain knew she would accept his invitation, but why be in a hurry? By the time she put her hand in his, several couples had already taken positions on the dance floor.
She noticed that Jonah did not break away from the group he was conversing with. Jane, however, did not seem to mind. She was too busy smiling at a handsome soldier in a butternut-hued uniform who was leading her toward the other dancers.
Camellia curtsied as t
he captain bowed, then joined her right hand to his left and stepped forward. As the piece continued, she discovered that he was an accomplished partner. Their conversation was limited by the steps of the dance, but he never seemed to take his gaze from her face.
When the musicians struck the final chord, she expected him to take her back to the chairs, but he did not move away from the dance floor. “If you do not promise me more dances, I will simply keep you away from the rest of those dogs.”
“Of course I will dance with you again.” Camellia released the material of her gown, allowing it to settle around her. “You are my escort. To refuse you would be rude.”
His face relaxed into his signature smile. “And I know you would never be rude.”
“Never,” she agreed.
He took her arm as the musicians began their next song. “Excellent.”
And so the evening continued. Camellia did dance with other men, but she spent most of her time in Captain Watkins’s arms. They did not stray from the strictures of propriety, however.
She could not say the same about Jonah. He had not approached her at all, but he had danced with every other girl in the room. Even some of the older ladies—the mothers, aunts, and sisters of the students. He had partnered with Mrs. Dabbs once, making that lady color and giggle like one of her pupils. Yes, Jonah had been quite the ladies’ man this evening.
As Captain Watkins swirled her around the room in one of the few waltzes of the evening, she noticed Jonah had taken Jane onto the floor. He held her very close. Too close. Why wasn’t Mrs. Dabbs separating them? She had done so with other men who had gotten a little too daring. Couldn’t she see how inappropriately they were acting? Jonah’s mouth was practically grazing Jane’s ear. Camellia stumbled as she craned her head to watch them.
Captain Watkins caught her, keeping her upright when she would have fallen. “Are you tired?”
Camellia looked into his dark brown eyes, thankful he’d stopped her from making a spectacle of herself. He was kind, too. Considerate of her. “No, it’s nothing. I just wondered if Mrs. Dabbs was going to stop Jonah and Ja—”
Her words were cut off as her partner swept her into a sudden turn, a turn that allowed him to see how close Jonah and his sister were dancing.
“That Cajun conniver. I should have known he would take advantage of Jane’s innocence.” The captain’s words were laced with anger.
His anger was nothing compared to the fire that leapt to her cheeks. “Whether Jonah Thornton is a Cajun or not has nothing to say to the matter. Besides, I know your sister well enough to realize she is capable of using him to draw someone else’s attention. Lieutenant Baxter, for instance.”
“I can’t believe you’re defending him.” The captain’s cheeks were as red as her own, and his blazing eyes bored a hole in her. “And you call yourself Jane’s friend? I cannot believe you would blame her for his poor behavior.”
Camellia was so irritated with his patronizing tone that she forgot they were in the middle of a waltz. She pulled away from the captain and turned on her heel. When she saw the shocked expression of the other people in the ballroom, it was too late. For a brief instant, she considered fainting. But no. She could not bring herself to fall to the dirty floor and soil her beautiful gown. Instead she picked up her skirt and ran from the room, her eyes burning from the tears that threatened to escape.
“Can you get a note out tomorrow concerning General Johnston’s troops?” Jonah whispered the words to Mrs. Dabbs as they moved toward the dance floor.
“I suppose so. Are you certain the information is correct? I can hardly believe they would move a major force so far south after all these months.”
Jonah nodded, his gaze centered on a rotund gentleman who was partnering with his daughter. The girl looked terrified, and he winced in sympathy as her stumbling footsteps landed on her father’s feet. “I loitered near your buffet table and struck up a conversation with a soldier named Baxter. While he was talking, I overheard the captain and some of his cronies discussing it. You must send a warning. I only hope it’s not too late.”
The music ended then, and he moved forward to intercept Miss Watkins. It was time for him to reassume his role as the smitten escort. She was an amenable young lady, but she seemed as shallow and self-serving as Camellia. What was it about young women that made them focus on such frivolities as fashion and etiquette even while their country was tearing itself apart? Couldn’t they see that their privileged world was based on a vile, destructive institution?
As they danced, he found himself unable to keep his gaze on Miss Watkins. He was too distracted by Camellia’s flamboyant dress and the way her hair floated about her heart-shaped face as the captain swirled her about the dance floor. She was easily the most beautiful girl in the room. A fact borne out by the number of men eager to dance with her. She had not sat out a single dance. But it seemed to him she glowed with happiness as the captain partnered with her. Why was she so animated when the captain held her? And why did Jonah care who brought a smile to her face?
“Don’t you agree, Mr. Thornton?”
Jonah dragged his attention back to Miss Watkins and wondered what she had been saying. “If you say so, Miss Watkins.”
A slight frown marred her brow, so he executed several quick turns. At the same time, he tightened his hold on her waist and brought his head closer to hers, moves that should redirect her thoughts. “Will you be leaving New Orleans right away, or can I expect to see you here the next time I come to call?”
Satisfaction settled on her face, replacing the frown. Good. Better for her to count him a conquest than to wonder what really held his attention. “My brother is hoping to escort me and Camellia to Vicksburg by the end of the month. He has asked his superiors for a short leave.” She giggled. “If you come before then, I will be here.”
Further confirmation of the arrival of fresh troops. The smile on Jonah’s face felt frozen. The Confederate leaders would not allow Captain Watkins to take leave unless they believed he would not be needed. Which would be true if General Johnston came to bolster the flagging number of defenders. Now was the time for the Federal troops to take the city. New Orleans would have no choice but surrender if Union soldiers arrived before Johnston’s troops. They could cut off the South’s supply lines and end the war before the year was half over. He prayed his superiors would take advantage of the information being funneled to them. Perhaps his subterfuge could end at that time, the slaves could be freed, and life could return to less battle-some days.
A commotion on the far side of the ballroom brought his head up. He was surprised to see Camellia jerk her arm away from her escort’s and dash out of the room. It wasn’t like her to cause a scene. She always strove hard to appear perfect. It was one of the reasons he could never resist teasing her—to witness her struggle between the desire to put him in his place and the need to maintain her flawless facade. What had happened? Had Captain Watkins offended her? Or was there another reason for her public faux pas? What could have made her break the primary rule of her very existence? The questions crowded his mind as the musicians finished playing the waltz.
Miss Watkins leaned on his arm as Jonah escorted her from the dance floor. Her brother was standing next to a large potted plant, talking to a few of his Confederate friends, so he steered Miss Watkins in that direction.
“You seem preoccupied this evening. Have I said something to upset you?” Miss Watkins pouted at him, her lips drooping.
Jonah realized she must be unaware of the disturbance between her brother and Camellia, or she would not still be trying to flirt with him. Had her back been turned to them the whole time? She would find out soon enough why the others were whispering, but for now he hoped she would remain unaware. He needed a little time to figure out what had gone wrong. “Of course not. I’m sorry. You must think me quite rude. I enjoyed our dance.”
“I’m certain a polished gentleman like you must find our party boring and prosa
ic.” Her voice was light, but he detected a slight edge to the words.
Jonah opened his mouth to answer her but was distracted by the conversation taking place a few feet away.
“Her actions show how temperamental a pretty girl can be. She’ll soon learn she cannot control a man.” Captain Watkins slapped one of his friends on the shoulder, and all of the group laughed.
Any answer he would have given to the girl on his arm was forgotten because of the captain’s callous statement. Was he speaking of Camellia? What had he said to her? A part of Jonah wanted to confront the man right then, but he decided his first duty was to check on Camellia. Once he knew she was okay and found out exactly what the captain had said or done, he could decide the proper action to take.
“Please excuse me.” He bowed to Miss Watkins, straightened, and cleared his throat to get the attention of the laughing men. “I’m certain most of these fine gentlemen are eager to partner with you.”
Captain Watkins crossed his arms over his chest as the eager soldiers crowded around his sister.
Jonah’s eyes narrowed as they searched the man’s face. At least he could not have done her any physical harm in the middle of the ballroom. But if he’d been cruel to Camellia, Jonah would make sure he answered for it.
Turning away, he hurried to the door and into the hallway, looking left and right for any sign of Camellia. Seeing nothing, he decided to check the first-floor rooms that were not in use for the party. He crossed the hall and tried the first door. The room was dimly lit, but the yellow light of an oil lamp atop the fireplace mantel showed him floor-to-ceiling shelves lined with books. The library. “Camellia? Are you in here?”
A sniffle answered him.
Jonah’s mouth tightened. She was crying. He entered the room and closed the door behind him. It might not be proper to shut himself in with her, but Jonah knew Camellia wouldn’t want anyone to see her crying. He looked about until he spotted the bright material of her gown.
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