Camellia by Diane T. Ashley Page B

raised to him. “I love you, too, Mother.”
    “Now go. And don’t let Camellia get away from you. If you wait too long, she may fall for some other fellow’s smooth talk.”
    It was time to make his escape before his well-meaning parent sent out invitations for a wedding. “I promise you my heart is not pining for the beauteous Miss Anderson. I’m not ready to marry anyone.”
    “If you change your mind, you will let me know, won’t you?”
    “Of course. You’ll be the first.” He left the house then, snagging his greatcoat on his way to the stable. A misty rain chilled the air as he threaded his way through the congested streets.
    A feeling of anticipation surprised him. He wanted to get this errand behind him, didn’t he? Of course he did. It must have been all the silly talk from his mother about other suitors that had him thinking of Camellia Anderson.
    That was it. Jonah pulled back on his horse’s reins and moved out of the flow of traffic. He had no feelings about her at all. Visiting Camellia was nothing but a ruse to protect him from exposure. He didn’t even enjoy being around her. In fact, he hoped she would turn down his mother’s invitation. The idea of being around her for an extended period of time filled him with nothing more than dismay, perhaps even repugnance.
    Once this war was over, he would turn his attention to marriage, and when he did, it would be to someone much more serious about life. A girl who had strong faith and exhibited the qualities enumerated in the book of Proverbs. Camellia probably had no idea how to be a proper wife, and he had no desire to teach her.
    Satisfied with his logic, Jonah clucked his tongue and encouraged his mount forward once more, eventually arriving in the quieter portion of the city where Mrs. Dabbs’s school was located. The trick was to keep his mind on the job the military had given him. Maybe after he left the school, he would visit the Custom House to discover what the enterprising blockade runners had managed to slip past the Union navy. Feeling much more in control of himself, Jonah dismounted and tied his horse to an ornate post outside of the school. All he had to do was politely ask Camellia to visit. Then he could get on with the real reason for his visit.

Chapter Eight
    I don’t understand why we have to practice needlepoint.” Camellia punched her needle through the piece of cotton, almost stabbing her knee through her skirt and the multiple layers of petticoats she wore. “I already know how to sew.”
    Mrs. Dabbs was helping Camellia with a knot in her thread. “This is not about sewing. It’s about beautifying your home with handmade art.”
    “Every well-bred lady should be able to ply a needle with skill.” Pauline, a short girl with olive skin and a long nose, added her opinion.
    Fourteen-year-old Molly nodded. Camellia thought of the girl as Pauline’s shadow. She had an unfortunate lisp, so she didn’t speak often. Next to her sat bespectacled Catherine, who was probably doing a better job than Camellia even though she was practically as blind as a bat.
    Even Jane seemed to be enjoying their lesson. She held her handwork up to the light, and Camellia could see how even each stitch was in the five-pointed star and the circle surrounding it.
    She sighed and pulled her needle back through even as she realized the points of her star had an odd tilt and her circle was decidedly lopsided. She would much rather be practicing her penmanship or even adding up columns of numbers. At least those skills had some bearing on her future. If she needed artwork for her home, she would commission an artist to paint a portrait of her to be hung above the mantel in the front parlor.
    A knock at the door brought Camellia back to the present. Mademoiselle Brigitte Laurent, Mrs. Dabbs’s assistant, entered the room and looked straight at her.
“Excusez-moi,
Mademoiselle Anderson,
vous avez un visiteur.”
The girl looked over her shoulder and