Lily (Song of the River) (25 page)

“Can we have parties on the boat, too?”

Camellia’s question turned Lily’s mind from her unpleasant thoughts. “I don’t know.” Lily smiled to soften her words. “We’ll probably be very busy preparing food and helping Tamar keep everything clean.”

Jasmine, who had looked up at Camellia’s question, made a face and went back to copying the receipt.

“I declare. You are the most glum group of ladies I have ever been around.” Sarah jumped up and struck a pose. “I have it!”

Camellia focused on the animated young woman. “What do you have?”

“The answer.” She clapped her hands. “We’ll go shopping. No matter the problem, a little shopping always puts one in a better frame of mind.”

Lily sighed and shook her head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Nonsense.” Mrs. Thornton smiled at her daughter. “I agree with Sarah. The reason we are so melancholy is because we are surrounded by a river of mourning attire.”

“Mama, you are a genius!” Sarah returned to the sofa and flipped the pages to a style they had all found attractive. “We will have this dress made in dove gray for Lily.”

Lily shook her head. “It’s too soon.”

“Grandfather has been dead forever.” Camellia drew out the last word to emphasize it.

“Look at this one, Camellia.” Sarah pointed out another fashion plate. “If we choose a muted blue, it would be perfect for you to wear to my ball.”

“But—”

Lily’s words were cut off as Jasmine interrupted. “Which dress can I have?”

Sarah put a finger on her chin and tilted her head. “Lavender is the perfect color for you, little one. But it must be a simpler design.”

Lily was relieved when Sarah pointed out a dress appropriate for a young lady instead of another debutante dress. Jasmine didn’t even pout when she saw it.

The idea of spending money on three dresses made Lily feel a bit faint, but she could not ignore the hopeful look on her sisters’ faces. Still, she had to try one more time to make them see reason. “We have no need for new dresses.”

“
Mais oui.
” Sarah frowned at her mother. “Did you not tell them of my party on Saturday?”

Mrs. Thornton shook her head. “I thought I would need your support to convince Lily that she and Camellia should attend.”

“Impossible.” Lily’s gaze shifted from mother to daughter. “We cannot afford such an extravagance.”

“Jesus said nothing is impossible for those who have faith.” Sarah crossed her arms.

Sarah’s reference to scripture reminded Lily how often she had ignored her Bible of late. Her glance met the beseeching looks from both Camellia and Jasmine. She had a duty to provide shelter and sustenance for them. She squirmed in her seat. Was she providing them the spiritual guidance they needed?
Lord, forgive me. Show me how to be a better model for Camellia and Jasmine. Help me teach them Your ways.

“Lily, you and your sisters are as dear to me as my own children.” Mrs. Thornton reached for Lily’s hand. “It would be a kindness if you would let me pay for these dresses.”

“I couldn’t—”

“Please, Lily.” Camellia’s blue eyes were bright with unshed tears. “I would love to have a new dress.”

How could she resist? Lily squeezed Mrs. Thornton’s hand. “I suppose I could accept a loan.”

“Perfect!” Sarah clapped her hands. “Let’s go right now before Lily changes her mind.”

Although she still wasn’t sure it was a good idea, Lily let herself be swept up by the combined efforts of her sisters, Sarah, and Mrs. Thornton. Soon all five of them were crowded into the carriage, headed for the fabled shops on Canal Street.

Jean Luc slapped at an insect buzzing around his head. They seemed to be everywhere these days. Some said they were the carriers of disease, but while he found them irritating, he could not believe they were the reason for sickness. He never got sick. Avoiding the night air made more sense to him. Evil deeds and evil-minded people used darkness as a cover. Why not illness as well?

Plucking a bloom from the flower arrangement in the foyer, he tucked it into the lapel of his coat. He’d told his mother he was going to town. Anything to get away from the oppressive, disappointed glances she still directed at him. Would he never live down his mistake?

Jean Luc mounted his horse and headed to town, passing cotton fields being worked by dozens of slaves. They were planting seed, a job he did not envy as it required hour after backbreaking hour laboring in the sweltering heat. Papa had mentioned something about purchasing a few extra slaves before harvest. Jean Luc shuddered. He didn’t like going to the slave market. It was foul smelling and filthy. No place for a gentleman to spend time.

Not like his current destination—his tailor. He was in need of a new dress coat and several shirts. The streets were crowded. Farmers with loaded wagons of fresh-picked melons and peaches trundled past immigrants in rough-spun work clothes. Fashionable ladies in bright-colored finery hung on the arms of their dark-coated escorts, eager to purchase everything from hats to shoes. Street vendors hawked fruit, vegetables, and meat pies.

Jean Luc wove his horse back and forth down the street, his teeth clenching as his progress was repeatedly halted. When he finally reached the storefront of Preston and Sons, Jean Luc dismounted with a relieved sigh and tied his horse to the hitching rail. Before he could enter the establishment, however, he was stopped by someone calling his name.

“I’m so glad to find you, Mr. Champney.”

Jean Luc turned to see Lars Steenberg. “Is
Hattie Belle
back from New Orleans?” He shaded his eyes and looked toward the river.

Steenberg shuffled his feet. “No, sir. We ran into a bit of trouble.”

Dread filled Jean Luc. “Is she sunk?” Most steamships did not last long. They either ran up on a snag and tore a hole in the keel, or the boiler exploded and set the deck on fire. If nature was not dangerous enough, pirates often lurked along the shore and attacked vulnerable boats. A paddle wheeler with a gaggle of females would fit that description pretty well.

“No, she made it to New Orleans.”

“Then why isn’t she here? And why are you here without her?”

Steenberg shrugged. “We ran aground north of the city and had to be pulled free.”

“You what!” Jean Luc was horrified. “Didn’t those idiots know not to travel in the dark? Were they in such a hurry to reach port that they risked my boat?”

“Not exactly. It was daylight.”

Jean Luc stared at the older man. “Who was captaining the boat when it happened?”

“I was.” Steenberg glanced at him, his expression rebellious. “You said you didn’t want Lily Anderson to succeed.”

“I didn’t mean for you to put the
Hattie Belle
at risk.” Noticing his angry tones had attracted the attention of some passersby, Jean Luc lowered his voice. “I only wanted you to keep an eye on things and report back. I didn’t want you to sink the boat. If the
Hattie Belle
is lost, I won’t have any chance to prove myself to my father.”

“She’s holed up for repairs, but they’ll probably be sailing her back to Natchez in a few days.”

“How bad was the damage?”

“Not too bad.” The other man shrugged. “A little problem with the paddle wheel and a bit of shattered glass. Probably be as good as new.”

“You’d better hope that’s true.” Jean Luc leaned closer to the captain. “Because if she’s not, I’m holding you responsible.”

Steenberg cringed. “I can’t help it if they don’t get her repaired proper.”

“She wouldn’t have to be repaired if not for your idiocy.” Jean Luc started to turn on his heel, but a thought occurred to him. “Do you want to make it up to me?”

“Yes, sir. They let me go, and there’s not many boats needing captains.” His eyes shifted to the left. “I’d be glad to work for you.”

Jean Luc nodded. “Then you watch for my boat to get back in, and let me know the minute it appears around Dead Man’s Bend. I want to be on the docks waiting to greet Miss Anderson before her dainty foot touches dry land.” He jangled the coins in his pocket. Pulling out a handful, he selected one and tossed it in the air.

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.” Steenberg caught the coin before it hit the ground. “I’ll be on the lookout, Mr. Champney.”

“Good, because if you fail me this time, it will be your last.” Jean Luc walked away, certain the man had gotten the point.

Now he needed to concentrate on the business at hand. If he was going to convince Lily to allow him to take over the management of the
Hattie Belle
, he needed to look his best.

C
onflicting desires pulled at Tamar. She could barely concentrate on getting the two older girls ready for the ball because of wondering whether Jensen would come to visit while the others were out dancing. He’d come to the Thorntons’ home several times over the past week, but that didn’t mean he would come tonight, not after she’d told him to leave her alone.

She regretted her words even if they were sensible. He was too nice a man to get tangled up with the likes of her. She would be happy if he didn’t come, wouldn’t she?

The answer was simple. She wouldn’t be happy at all. There were so many reasons to push him away. A thousand obstacles stood between her and Jensen, not the least of which was that she had no right to marry. She was too old, too plain, too dark, and too sensible to listen to his suggestions.

“I think you’ve pulled my corset too tight.” Lily reached back to tug on her hands.

Tamar released some of the pressure on the laces. “I’m sorry. I don’t know where my mind is tonight.”

“I wish I could go.” Jasmine sat pouting in a corner of the girls’ bedroom. “I’m going to be all alone.”

“No, you won’t.” Camellia stood in front of the mirror, admiring her new blue gown. “David and Tamar will be here.”

“I’m practically grown up.” The whine in Jasmine’s voice contradicted her words. “Besides, you and Lily can’t dance. You’re still in mourning.”

Tamar knew her girls well enough to know that Camellia would probably be on the dance floor before the beginning of the second song. Here in New Orleans no one knew about her grandfather’s death, so she would see no reason to deny herself. Lily would probably remain seated with the matrons and old maids, content to watch the younger girls dip and swirl in the arms of their suitors. If she didn’t watch out, she would find herself alone as her sisters married and began families.

“I hope both of your sisters will dance, Miss Jasmine.” She reached for the hooped crinoline that would make Lily’s skirt stand out in a bell shape. “I’m sure your grandfather wouldn’t disapprove. He’d like to see his girls having a wonderful evening.”

Jasmine crossed her hands over her chest. “I’m not so sure about that. He’ll probably be upset to see me staying here with you and David.”

“Don’t be so anxious to grow up, Jasmine.” Lily stood still while Tamar lifted her new skirt over her head and settled it around her waist. “You need to learn the trick of finding enjoyment no matter your age, or you’ll always be so busy looking ahead that you’ll miss a lot of grand adventures.”

“But you and Camellia are wearing your new clothes. Why did you get a dress for me if I can’t wear it?”

Tamar frowned at Jasmine. “You’ll wear it tomorrow when you go to church.”

Jasmine turned her face to the window.

Tamar tweaked the gray material of Lily’s skirt, making sure every fold was perfect. Not many women could wear this color without looking like they were ready for a grave marker, but the soft color reflected on Lily’s face, muting the line of her stubborn chin and bringing a special glow into her sweet brown eyes. She looked as young and fresh as Camellia, who came to stand next to her. Seeing them made Tamar feel old and worn out, like a well-used rag.

Camellia’s golden curls were fastened on top of her head with three white camellia blossoms. A matching blossom was pinned to the front of her bodice, its delicate bloom standing out against the dark moiré silk of her gown. Her milky-white skin also contrasted against the material, glowing in the candlelight. She was sure to be sought after by all the young men at the ball.