Camellia

by Diane T. Ashley

  “Merci. My husband is in the army, but we have much room if you would like to stay here with us.”

  For a moment Camellia was tempted to take up Molly’s mother on her offer. Farther from town, the air seemed clearer, the danger not so immediate. They could hide out here and hope the war would pass them by.

  But then a picture of Thad’s earnest face appeared in her mind. His dark eyes boring a hole into her, his arms coming around her, his lips—Camellia slammed the door on the memory—not of Thad but of Jonah. Why was he the one she thought of?

  No matter, they had to go back to the school or Thad would be worried. She shook her head. “We have family in town.”

  The older woman nodded her understanding. Putting an arm around her daughter’s waist, she led Molly between a pair of white columns and onto a shady porch. They both turned and waved as the coachman backed the carriage and began the drive to town.

  When a bend in the drive hid the graceful, two-story home from sight, Camellia turned to Jane. “What do you think will happen to them?”

  “We should pray for their safety.” Jane sighed.

  As the carriage trundled through the countryside, each retreated into her own thoughts. Camellia wondered why everything had changed. Why was her life so out of control? No matter what she did, nothing ever worked out as planned.

  First she was kissed by the wrong man. Then Thad, the man she hoped to marry, appeared to arrest Mrs. Dabbs. He had single-handedly closed down the school, although she supposed she couldn’t blame Thad for his actions. But couldn’t they have just intercepted the letters and waited to arrest Mrs. Dabbs once the term was completely over? And now the Yankees were practically knocking at their front door. How much worse could things get?

  The thoughts continued to roll in her mind until the carriage came to a halt. “What now?”

  Jane’s eyes widened. “Do you think it’s … Yankees?”

  A shudder passed through Camellia. “I hope not.”

  The coachman climbed down and opened the door between them. His dark face was drawn in a frown. “There’s some kind of speechifying going on up on the Levee Road. I can’t get through right now. Did you ladies want to get out and walk about while we wait?”

  Without waiting for Jane’s agreement, Camellia moved toward the door. She needed to get out of the stuffy carriage. As soon as her feet touched the ground, she looked about. A crowd had gathered around a man of average height whose mustache blended with his side-whiskers. Curiosity drove her forward.

  “Wait for me.” Jane’s voice came from behind her.

  The heat pounded on her shoulders, and the smoke was worse once more. Camellia choked back the urge to cough. When Jane drew even with her, they linked their arms and picked their way around the ruts in the road to stand on the outskirts of the crowd.

  The man tugged on his uniform and cleared his throat. “That’s why I feel it would be best to withdraw from the city.”

  A collective groan greeted his statement. One of the ladies fainted. Her escort caught her and lowered her to the ground before returning his attention to the man speaking.

  “We will be within easy reach should you need our military support, but I don’t want the Yankee navy bombing the city. If no one remains within New Orleans but workingmen, women, and children, I believe they will not take action against you.”

  Camellia was horrified at his suggestion. Without a military presence, the city would undoubtedly fall into Yankee control. Since her sister was directly involved in the world of commerce, she understood what it would mean to the South to lose the city. The free flow of arms and goods would be halted. It would be a devastating blow, one that might mean the end of the war, the end of everything that mattered to her.

  Chapter Nineteen

  You cannot remain here all alone.” Jonah held on to his patience with an effort. The woman standing in front of him had to understand the dangers she and her friend might face. “Now that Admiral Farragut has landed, New Orleans must surrender to the inevitable.”

  Camellia opened her mouth and closed it with a snap. “If you believe that, you’re an idiot. Our soldiers will defend us.”

  “Is that what you think? Do you expect Captain Watkins to ride in on a white horse and save the day?”

  Her eyes darkened, distracting him.

  All he wanted to do was take her in his arms once more and feel her soft curves yielding to him. Jonah shook his head to clear it. This was definitely not the time to be thinking about romance. He needed to convince Camellia and Jane to leave the school and take up residence with his family where he could keep an eye on them. Just to make sure they were safe, of course.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” He pivoted and walked to the far side of the visitors’ parlor, his footsteps echoing in the empty house. Maybe some distance would help him keep his focus.

  She sniffed. Had he made her cry? Jonah glanced over his shoulder, relieved to see that her lips were folded in a straight line. She might be angry, but at least she wasn’t falling apart.

  A thought occurred to him. Was she angry with him because of this afternoon? Or was she upset about the way he’d acted the last time they were together? “Camellia, I’m sorry for what happened that night, and I know what you must think of—”

  A disdainful roll of her eyes stopped his words and made his jaw tighten.

  Jonah took a deep breath and began again. “I promise I won’t come near you if you’ll only consent to moving to the town house. Father will fuss about the Federals, and Mother will fuss over you and Miss Watkins—”

  “Jane. Her name is Jane.”

  He was glad to get past the apology, so Jonah ignored the needling tone in her voice. “You and Jane cannot remain here without Mrs. Dabbs.”

  “We couldn’t very well abandon the younger girls to suit your sense of propriety.” Camellia raised her chin in a defiant gesture. “Jane and I have spent the past two days getting messages out to the families of the other girls and delivering the ones who could not be picked up.”

  Jonah sighed. “It’s not my sense of propriety, Camellia. I’m impressed that you took it upon yourself to reunite the remaining students with their families or send them home, but that responsibility is completed. I saw no sign of any servants, so I assume they’ve run away. It’s time for you to leave, too. Thieves are taking advantage of the confusion and panic to break into homes and steal whatever they can find. And they don’t care if they hurt someone in the process.”

  “Wait a minute.” Camellia’s chin lowered a notch, and her gaze studied him. “How did you know Mrs. Dabbs wasn’t here? We haven’t told anyone, and it hasn’t been in the newspapers.”

  She was too quick for her own good. Jonah could hardly tell her he’d received a report from another sympathizer who was stationed at the prison. Nor could he kiss her again to distract her. He looked away, his mind grasping for a plausible answer. “That captain sent me a note about it and asked me to make sure the two of you were safe.”

  The suspicion on her face didn’t abate. “Why would he do that? When did the two of you become such fast friends?”

  He forced a laugh. “I wouldn’t call our relationship friendly, but you’re the one who introduced him to my family. He was worried about you and couldn’t check on you himself. It’s no wonder he contacted my father.”

  “I thought you said he sent a note to you.”

  “I—I meant that I read Father’s note.” Jonah summoned up all the innocence he could muster and met her gaze openly. It was time to put her on the defensive. “Why are you so concerned about how he addressed the message? What really matters is that you and Miss … Jane pack a bag or two. I could not bring the wagon through the streets, so don’t pack too much.” He held his breath as he watched the emotions play across her features.

  She finally shrugged and moved to the door. “I don’t suppose we have much choice. But I’m going to take Thad to task when I see him next for s
ending a note to you—or your parents—when he couldn’t be bothered with letting us know what was going on. Jane and I have been worried sick about him since he failed to show up yesterday afternoon as expected.”

  “I’m sure he wanted to.” Jonah kept his tone light. “Go on and get your things. We need to leave as soon as possible.”

  The moment the door closed behind Camellia, Jonah collapsed onto the striped damask sofa. That had been a close one. He would have to send a missive to the captain reassuring the man about the girls’ whereabouts. And he would have to hope his subterfuge was not discovered.

  As long as Camellia was around, Jonah would also have to watch every word he uttered. If she realized his true mission, she would run straight to Captain Watkins with the information. Then his usefulness as a spy would be over. He wouldn’t be able to rescue Mrs. Dabbs, and he’d probably have to run for his life to escape imprisonment or hanging.

  “Mayor Monroe sent a note back that if Farragut didn’t like the flags flying over our government buildings, he would have to remove them himself.” Mr. Thornton’s laughter rocked the carriage.

  Camellia hoped the noise their host was making wouldn’t bring unwanted attention to them. Fog and smoke swirled outside the window, barely visible in the predawn hours. She stretched her senses to their utmost, trying to hear above the clip-clop of their horse’s hooves on the pavement. Did a shadow detach itself from the alley they passed, or was it only her imagination?

  “Are you sure the boat will leave this morning?” Jane’s question brought her attention back to the interior of the carriage.

  Accustomed to the dark, she saw Jonah’s nod. “Don’t worry. Everything’s arranged.”

  Why did his voice sound so kind when he addressed Jane? When Jonah spoke to her, which had been an infrequent occurrence over the past three days, it had been in distant monosyllables. When she had asked if he’d seen the Yankee boat, he’d answered yes. When she questioned him about further messages from Captain Watkins, he’d simply said no. No explanation, no comment. As though they were strangers. It was very perplexing.

  As she returned her gaze to the dark landscape, Camellia’s thoughts turned to home. Wouldn’t Lily be amused that she was so anxious to board a steamboat? A pang speared her. She couldn’t wait to see precious Jasmine. Had her baby sister memorized any more dramas? Or had she grown out of that fascination? She had no doubt that Lily and Blake were still happy in their odd, argumentative way. And what about Aunt Dahlia and Uncle Phillip? Had they found her a better suitor than Thaddeus Watkins, Esquire? She couldn’t wait to show all of them how much she’d matured. Even Grandmother would be impressed by her improved skills.

  If only she’d been able to convince Mrs. Thornton to come with them. But the lady had refused, stating that she would not abandon her husband and children. Camellia shuddered to think of any of them caught between the opposing forces. The men in the family would try to protect Mrs. Thornton and her daughter, but would it be enough?

  She would have to pray that the Yankee admiral would give up and slink away. Wasn’t it enough that his ships were blockading Confederate waters? Did he have to threaten the cities, too?

  Camellia glanced toward Jonah and wondered what he would say if she voiced her opinion. Would he stick to monosyllables then? She was tempted by the idea of engaging him in a discussion, even if it was an argument.

  She knew she should be thankful he was keeping his distance from her. They could not afford a repeat of that moment in the library at La Belle Demoiselle. Her cheeks heated, and a chill that had nothing to do with the damp morning air raced through her. A part of her wanted to repeat the experience, if only to prove that the emotions of that night had been a result of the excitement of the dance rather than a response to his kiss.

  A shout interrupted her thoughts and brought Camellia’s attention back to her surroundings. The carriage came to a halt as they reached the port. How different it looked without all the steamships lined up along the docks. Before the war, she would not have been able to see the oak trees on the west bank, but as the sun began to rise above the horizon, she could easily make out the widespread limbs and gnarled trunks lining the opposite shore.

  The pungent odor of burned cotton seemed to hang over them as Jonah opened the door and jumped out, turning to offer a hand to assist them.

  Camellia waited for Jane to alight then took Jonah’s hand. She realized her mistake as soon as her bare hand touched his. No admonition to be as tranquil as a lake’s surface could stop her reaction. Grabbing hold of a lightning bolt could not have caused a greater sensation. A flash in Jonah’s dark eyes told her he had felt the same thrill. Time stretched out as she leaned against his strength, as she relied on him to keep her from tumbling to the damp pavement. Then her foot touched the ground, and the moment ended. Her heart was fluttering in her chest like a frightened bird. What had happened? What power was it that Jonah had over her? Why could the mere touch of his hand cause such a furor?

  Jerking away from him, Camellia caught her breath and looked around them. The fog dampened all sounds, giving the area an eerie, deserted feel. Gooseflesh arose on her arms. She wanted to reach for Jonah’s solid form again but moved closer to Jane instead. “Where is the boat?”

  Behind her, the horse whinnied and the coach creaked as Mr. Thornton disembarked. “It ought to be right over there.”

  “I don’t see anything.” Concern filled Jonah’s deep voice. “I thought he was going to wait here for us.”

  Jane put an arm around Camellia’s waist. “Perhaps he had to move to a berth farther down the river?”

  Mr. Thornton walked to the water’s edge and raised a hand to his brow, searching in both directions for any sign of the boat. “Nothing. I don’t see anything but water.”

  Camellia’s heart sank. Would they not be able to escape after all?

  A bright light shone from the opposite bank, piercing the fog that seemed to grow denser with every passing moment.

  She pointed toward it. “Is that the boat?”

  “That doesn’t make sense.” Jonah took up a position on the other side of Jane. She could almost feel the tension rolling off him. “Why would it be on the west bank?”

  Camellia squinted, trying to discover the source of the light. It seemed to expand, becoming several points of brightness. Was that the effect of the fog? Or something more ominous?

  “I think it’s a fire.” Jane whispered the words as though afraid to say them out loud.

  The lights jumped higher and spread out wider at the same time, casting a yellow reflection on the dark water of the river. For a moment she thought someone might have set fire to one of the old oaks, but then Camellia recognized the outline being made—a steamship.

  A blast rent the air, and the sky filled with burning debris.

  “Watch out!” Jonah turned and caught both of them in his arms, bending his torso to form a barrier between them and the dangerous missiles.

  She could hear the thunks and splashes as the pieces rained down all around them, but Camellia was more aware of the scent of Jonah’s cologne, the strength of his arms, and his protective stance than the danger they were in.

  As soon as the noises abated, he dropped his arms from them. “Father? Father, are you all right?”

  “I’m fine.” Mr. Thornton was no longer standing where he had been.

  Camellia looked around, relieved when she saw Jonah’s father and the coachman emerging from the space under the carriage. “There they are.”

  “Look.” Jane’s voice brought their attention back to the river.

  The decks of the steamer were completely enwrapped in a blanket of flames. The paddle wheel still churned, however, its great blades pushing through the muddy water and sending the boat downriver.

  Camellia looked for the name on its side, her heart sliding downward as she made out the last three letters: H–O–E. “It’s the Ivanhoe.” Her voice cracked on the last word.

&nb
sp; “Don’t worry.” Jonah stepped toward her. “We’ll get you out of New Orleans.”

  “How?”

  “We’ll find another boat.”

  Camellia wanted to believe him, but his eyes told her a different story. “There aren’t any more boats.”

  He put a hand under her arm and guided her back toward the carriage. “I’ll do whatever is necessary, Camellia. If I have to carry you out of here on my back, I’ll see that you reach your family safely. You can count on me.”

  And somehow she knew she could.

  Chapter Twenty

  Jonah wondered how the mayor could continue refusing to bow to Admiral Farragut now that everyone knew both forts guarding the river below the city had surrendered. It was only a matter of time before troops arrived and put the city under marshal law. He ought to be proud that his work had helped make a bloodless victory possible.

  Even his father had accepted the inevitable and freed their slaves. A couple of the older ones stayed, but most of them were happy to seek out brighter futures than they had once dreamed possible. Jonah had given them all the cash he could collect, a gesture he hoped would help them during these difficult times.

  A knock on the front door went unanswered for a moment until he rose with a grin. Along with his parents, he was going to have to remember to wait on himself. He crossed the marble floor of the foyer and pulled the door open, a frown drawing his eyebrows together when he recognized their visitor. “Captain Watkins.”

  “Are my sister and Miss Anderson staying with you?”

  Jonah bowed and stepped back begrudgingly. “They’re safe.” He wanted to voice the unspoken words thanks to my efforts but decided that would be an unchristian remark.

  “Captain Watkins!” Camellia didn’t run to the door, but she moved faster than her usual sedate pace.

  Jane followed, her smile mirroring the wide one Camellia wore.