Jonah, a hint of his impatience evident in the shuffling of his feet.
“Yes, but I am afraid he is too stubborn to consider the desires of the South even though I write to him of my concerns.”
The shorter man nodded once before glancing around at the quiet square. “Godspeed. May God be with us all.”
When he turned and walked away, Jonah felt his stomach plunge. Was that how he would appear to some new recruit in a few months? Would he spend the rest of this war slinking around in the shadows and meeting other spies in deserted areas? Jonah began to pray as he left the square in the opposite direction “Mr. Brown” had taken. He prayed for the wisdom to outwit his friends and acquaintances. He prayed they would not be punished if he was caught. And he prayed that the war would end before he arrived in New Orleans.
Camellia was not surprised when Jonah Thornton took the seat next to hers even though he had several other choices. Most men would have chosen to sit next to the most beautiful woman in the room.
She intercepted a glance between Blake and Lily, seated at opposite ends of the table. Jasmine and David had their heads together across the table from her, and Papa sat between her and Lily. Either Jonah could choose to sit between David and Blake, or he could share her side of the table.
Satisfaction and self-confidence surged within her. She glanced at Jonah sideways, noting the well-brushed frock coat he wore over fawn-colored trousers. A white shirt, stiff collar, and silk tie completed his ensemble, showing that he was both a man of means and particular about his appearance.
“You are even lovelier than I remember, Miss Anderson.” His eyes crinkled at the outside corners when he smiled. “I’m so glad you’ll be in our fair city for several months.”
Camellia could feel her heartbeat accelerating and wished she had brought her fan to dinner. It would have given her hands something to do and helped to hide the blush rising to her cheeks. “Thank you, Mr. Thornton. It is kind of you to say so.”
Blake cleared his throat. “Let’s bless this food.”
Everyone bowed their heads, but Camellia peeked up at the man sitting next to her. Jonah Thornton might not have a plantation, but he was quite charming. She would enjoy bandying words with him during their trip to New Orleans. It was a pity they only had one more full day before reaching their destination. When Blake ended the blessing, she raised her head with the rest of the diners.
Lily uncovered a dish of sliced beef and passed it around the table. “How long has it been since we saw you, Mr. Thornton?”
Jonah’s grass-green eyes narrowed as he considered her sister’s question. “You were Miss Anderson still. And I was naught but a carefree partygoer.” His smile invited all of them to join his regret over youthful indiscretions. “I wish you would call me Jonah.” He glanced at Camellia for a moment before returning his gaze to the others at the table. “Mr. Thornton is my father, or perhaps Eli. I could never aspire to their heights of maturity.”
Blake filled his plate with beef, creamed potatoes, and one of Tamar’s fluffy biscuits. “Whether you aspire to become mature or not, you will find yourself growing old faster than you might believe possible.”
“Pay no attention to my gloomy husband.” Lily smiled in his direction. “He found a gray hair this morning and has felt the weight of his age ever since.”
Everyone laughed at her comment, but Camellia was embarrassed for them. Why would Lily expose poor Blake to ridicule? And why did her sister think it was appropriate to speak of such intimate details in a family setting? Lily needed to attend finishing school even worse than Camellia did. Not that she would. She was too busy sailing up and down the river, stopping at every port, and dwelling in the masculine world of shipping as though her gender did not matter.
Besides, if she did agree to attend, Lily would
“Yes, but I am afraid he is too stubborn to consider the desires of the South even though I write to him of my concerns.”
The shorter man nodded once before glancing around at the quiet square. “Godspeed. May God be with us all.”
When he turned and walked away, Jonah felt his stomach plunge. Was that how he would appear to some new recruit in a few months? Would he spend the rest of this war slinking around in the shadows and meeting other spies in deserted areas? Jonah began to pray as he left the square in the opposite direction “Mr. Brown” had taken. He prayed for the wisdom to outwit his friends and acquaintances. He prayed they would not be punished if he was caught. And he prayed that the war would end before he arrived in New Orleans.
Camellia was not surprised when Jonah Thornton took the seat next to hers even though he had several other choices. Most men would have chosen to sit next to the most beautiful woman in the room.
She intercepted a glance between Blake and Lily, seated at opposite ends of the table. Jasmine and David had their heads together across the table from her, and Papa sat between her and Lily. Either Jonah could choose to sit between David and Blake, or he could share her side of the table.
Satisfaction and self-confidence surged within her. She glanced at Jonah sideways, noting the well-brushed frock coat he wore over fawn-colored trousers. A white shirt, stiff collar, and silk tie completed his ensemble, showing that he was both a man of means and particular about his appearance.
“You are even lovelier than I remember, Miss Anderson.” His eyes crinkled at the outside corners when he smiled. “I’m so glad you’ll be in our fair city for several months.”
Camellia could feel her heartbeat accelerating and wished she had brought her fan to dinner. It would have given her hands something to do and helped to hide the blush rising to her cheeks. “Thank you, Mr. Thornton. It is kind of you to say so.”
Blake cleared his throat. “Let’s bless this food.”
Everyone bowed their heads, but Camellia peeked up at the man sitting next to her. Jonah Thornton might not have a plantation, but he was quite charming. She would enjoy bandying words with him during their trip to New Orleans. It was a pity they only had one more full day before reaching their destination. When Blake ended the blessing, she raised her head with the rest of the diners.
Lily uncovered a dish of sliced beef and passed it around the table. “How long has it been since we saw you, Mr. Thornton?”
Jonah’s grass-green eyes narrowed as he considered her sister’s question. “You were Miss Anderson still. And I was naught but a carefree partygoer.” His smile invited all of them to join his regret over youthful indiscretions. “I wish you would call me Jonah.” He glanced at Camellia for a moment before returning his gaze to the others at the table. “Mr. Thornton is my father, or perhaps Eli. I could never aspire to their heights of maturity.”
Blake filled his plate with beef, creamed potatoes, and one of Tamar’s fluffy biscuits. “Whether you aspire to become mature or not, you will find yourself growing old faster than you might believe possible.”
“Pay no attention to my gloomy husband.” Lily smiled in his direction. “He found a gray hair this morning and has felt the weight of his age ever since.”
Everyone laughed at her comment, but Camellia was embarrassed for them. Why would Lily expose poor Blake to ridicule? And why did her sister think it was appropriate to speak of such intimate details in a family setting? Lily needed to attend finishing school even worse than Camellia did. Not that she would. She was too busy sailing up and down the river, stopping at every port, and dwelling in the masculine world of shipping as though her gender did not matter.
Besides, if she did agree to attend, Lily would
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