imagined that her patience was a ball of yarn like the one Mrs. Thornton held in her lap. Blue, of course, to match her eyes. Every now and then, like the roll of wool their hostess held, it threatened to break free, land on the floor, and unravel as it rolled toward the freedom of the front door. She had to concentrate on keeping her emotions in check or she would never be able to knit a future that matched her dream. A dream that was slipping away with each year that passed. She was eighteen today, a fact that had been celebrated during lunch with a festive cake and a song. Soon she would be too old to be considered a debutante. Soon she would be an old maid.
If only everyone would stop sitting about and help her get her belongings to La Belle Demoiselle. But here they remained, stationed in the front parlor of Mr. and Mrs. Thornton’s town house, drinking tea and chatting without the least degree of urgency.
Mr. Thornton was reading his newspaper, Blake sat next to Lily on the sofa, and Jasmine was standing next to the window, looking out at the street. The only one missing was Jonah. She had not seen him since they arrived at his parents’ home the day before. She couldn’t really blame him, though, since his father had been less than enthusiastic about his return to New Orleans.
“You shouldn’t worry about your sister. The war is not likely here.” Mrs. Thornton’s fingers worked nimbly as she spoke, her yarn turning into a lacy doily like the one covering the back of the chair in which Camellia sat. “Things are not as dire in New Orleans as you may have heard farther up the river.”
Camellia glanced at Lily to see if she would accept Mrs. Thornton’s reassurance. Her mauve day dress was Lily’s nicest, but it was not as new or as fashionable as Camellia’s pink one. Typical. Lily couldn’t care less about fashions. All she wanted was something serviceable and modest.
“I know you’re right, but leaving her here seems so risky.” Lily tapped her spoon against the rim of her teacup before laying it on her saucer. “We know the Federal navy is eager to take this city. They have vowed to cut off trade between Europe and the South.”
Mr. Thornton, sitting in a corner of the parlor, looked up. “Two forts lie between New Orleans and the Gulf of Mexico. They will defend us.”
Blake shared a glance with Lily. “My wife cannot help herself. She’s like a mother hen when it comes to her younger sisters.”
“Sarah’s here.” Jasmine turned from the window, her excitement plain to see as she announced the arrival of the Thorntons’ only daughter, Sarah Cartier.
Camellia shared her younger sister’s enthusiasm. Now perhaps the others would be infused with some energy.
After a moment, the door to the parlor opened, and Sarah floated into the room. Camellia approved of her ensemble, a wool skirt and jacket of muted orange plaid befitting the winter season. “I was so excited to open Mama’s note this morning. I hope you have not planned too many activities for your visit. I have dozens of ideas for things we can do.”
Sarah dropped a quick kiss on her mother’s cheek and waved a greeting at her father before turning to Lily. “Please tell me you will be here for a few days. I am having a little dinner party.” She glanced toward Camellia, her dark eyes bright. “Nothing elaborate, but we plan to have musicians in case any of the younger people wish to dance.”
Lily’s gaze followed Sarah’s. “I don’t know. We are only here to see Camellia settled at her school.”
Sarah clapped her hands. “La Belle Demoiselle,
n’est-ce pas
?”
Camellia nodded. She hoped to increase her understanding of French at the school. Of course she could translate simple phrases like the ones Sarah and Mrs. Thornton were always dropping into their conversations. By employing some herself, Camellia hoped to present a more continental persona.
“It is a very good school.” Sarah kissed her fingers
If only everyone would stop sitting about and help her get her belongings to La Belle Demoiselle. But here they remained, stationed in the front parlor of Mr. and Mrs. Thornton’s town house, drinking tea and chatting without the least degree of urgency.
Mr. Thornton was reading his newspaper, Blake sat next to Lily on the sofa, and Jasmine was standing next to the window, looking out at the street. The only one missing was Jonah. She had not seen him since they arrived at his parents’ home the day before. She couldn’t really blame him, though, since his father had been less than enthusiastic about his return to New Orleans.
“You shouldn’t worry about your sister. The war is not likely here.” Mrs. Thornton’s fingers worked nimbly as she spoke, her yarn turning into a lacy doily like the one covering the back of the chair in which Camellia sat. “Things are not as dire in New Orleans as you may have heard farther up the river.”
Camellia glanced at Lily to see if she would accept Mrs. Thornton’s reassurance. Her mauve day dress was Lily’s nicest, but it was not as new or as fashionable as Camellia’s pink one. Typical. Lily couldn’t care less about fashions. All she wanted was something serviceable and modest.
“I know you’re right, but leaving her here seems so risky.” Lily tapped her spoon against the rim of her teacup before laying it on her saucer. “We know the Federal navy is eager to take this city. They have vowed to cut off trade between Europe and the South.”
Mr. Thornton, sitting in a corner of the parlor, looked up. “Two forts lie between New Orleans and the Gulf of Mexico. They will defend us.”
Blake shared a glance with Lily. “My wife cannot help herself. She’s like a mother hen when it comes to her younger sisters.”
“Sarah’s here.” Jasmine turned from the window, her excitement plain to see as she announced the arrival of the Thorntons’ only daughter, Sarah Cartier.
Camellia shared her younger sister’s enthusiasm. Now perhaps the others would be infused with some energy.
After a moment, the door to the parlor opened, and Sarah floated into the room. Camellia approved of her ensemble, a wool skirt and jacket of muted orange plaid befitting the winter season. “I was so excited to open Mama’s note this morning. I hope you have not planned too many activities for your visit. I have dozens of ideas for things we can do.”
Sarah dropped a quick kiss on her mother’s cheek and waved a greeting at her father before turning to Lily. “Please tell me you will be here for a few days. I am having a little dinner party.” She glanced toward Camellia, her dark eyes bright. “Nothing elaborate, but we plan to have musicians in case any of the younger people wish to dance.”
Lily’s gaze followed Sarah’s. “I don’t know. We are only here to see Camellia settled at her school.”
Sarah clapped her hands. “La Belle Demoiselle,
n’est-ce pas
?”
Camellia nodded. She hoped to increase her understanding of French at the school. Of course she could translate simple phrases like the ones Sarah and Mrs. Thornton were always dropping into their conversations. By employing some herself, Camellia hoped to present a more continental persona.
“It is a very good school.” Sarah kissed her fingers
Similar Books
