Camellia (18 page)

Camellia curtsied as the 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 prosaic.” 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.

She stood beside a tall window, one hand strangling the heavy velvet drapes.

Jonah closed the distance between them and put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay, Camellia.”

“Go away.” She spat out the words and shrugged his hand off with an impatient motion. “Leave me alone.”

He sighed. “I’ll leave you alone as soon as you tell me what’s going on.”

She twisted to face him. “It has nothing to do with you.”

“Anything that hurts you involves me.” Jonah wanted to pull her into his arms and hold her close. He could see the vulnerability in her large blue eyes, could trace the pain down the wet paths on her tearstained cheeks. “Did he insult your honor?”

A brittle laugh escaped her. “Of course not. Captain Watkins did nothing wrong. All he did was defend his sister’s honor.”

Confusion made Jonah frown. He tilted his head as he tried to understand what she had said. Why would Captain Watkins feel the need to defend his sister? Camellia would never attack the girl. They were close friends.

Before he could puzzle out the answer, she pointed a finger at his chest. “Why did you come tonight?” Her voice was pitched low, some emotion making her tremble.

The question put him on the defensive. Did she suspect the truth? He thought he had fooled everyone. Jonah’s heart was heavy in his chest. But then he realized she couldn’t have any idea he was a spy. Camellia was a staunch supporter of the Confederacy. If she suspected the truth, she’d tell the soldiers to arrest him. Jonah cast about in his mind for a suitable answer, but only three words came to him. Three words that told a truth even if they didn’t disclose everything. “To see you.”

Her mouth formed a perfect O of shock. Her blue eyes widened. Silence filled the room as she absorbed his words. Then she shook her head. “You have some other reason. Your mother must have put the idea in your head. You only care to belittle me and my dreams. You and I both know this isn’t the kind of party you generally attend.”

“You don’t know me at all, do you?” Jonah stepped back. “You judge me for my boyhood days. Can you not see that I am different now? I like to think I have gained a little maturity in the past few years.”

Camellia shrugged, her pale shoulders catching the light of the lamp on the mantel.

“I was a child, but now I’m a man. I’ve put away childish things.” He hesitated a moment, gathering his thoughts. “Christ is the One who guides me, not the ambitions of this world.”

Her pale brows drew together.

Jonah straightened his shoulders and waited to hear the question he could almost see quivering on her full lips. He sent a quick prayer heavenward that he could properly answer whatever troubled her. That he could help turn her thoughts toward God and the real reason for existence.

She cocked her head, her curls falling across the curve of her cheek. “Is that why you’re not a soldier?”

Surprise spread through him as she watched him through narrowed eyes. He almost laughed out loud. Camellia was obviously not ready to change.