Camellia by Diane T. Ashley

Author:Diane T. Ashley [ASHLEY, DIANE T.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-62029-638-7
Publisher: Barbour Publishing, Inc.
Published: 2012-06-28T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-one

You’re here!” A feminine squeal split the morning air, and weight landed on Camellia’s bed.

Disoriented for a moment by the familiar walls of the bedroom she had grown up in, Camellia squinted at the dark-haired girl perched on her bed. Almond-shaped eyes the color of violets stared back at her. “Jasmine.”

It was the only encouragement her younger sister needed to launch herself at Camellia and envelop her in a tight embrace.

The nightmare of the dark journey home began to fade. She was home. Home where everything was still normal. The scourge of war and soldiers and traitorous spies had not touched Natchez, and she hoped it never would.

Emerging from Jasmine’s hug, Camellia leaned back and stretched her arms over her head. “What time is it?”

“Noon.”

The single word caught her in midyawn. “It can’t be that late.”

“Grandmother said we should let everyone sleep this morning.” Jasmine hopped off the bed and went to the pair of long windows on the far side of the bed. She pulled back the claret-hued curtains, and golden sunlight flooded the bedroom. “But everyone else is up, even your friend Miss Watkins. So Aunt Dahlia said I could come wake you.”

Camellia pushed back the quilt and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. “Find something for me to wear, please. I had to leave nearly everything in New Orleans.”

“There should be an old outfit around here somewhere.” Jasmine moved to the bureau, opening and closing drawers in her search.

Surveying the familiar room, Camellia was comforted by the floral wallpaper, marble mantel, cane-backed chair, and dressing table. It was good to be home. She sat in front of the mirror and unbraided her hair.

“You don’t look much different.” Jasmine held up a white shirtwaist and a gray wool skirt with a patched hem. “What did you learn at that fancy school?”

“Too much to tell you about right now.” Camellia dragged a brush through her hair to remove snarls. “Where are the servants?”

“Uncle Phillip said they were a danger, what with all the rumors of an uprising, so he shipped them to some island in the Caribbean.”

The brush halted. Obviously not all things had remained the same during her absence. “Who does the chores?”

“Cook is still here, and we hire out some of the work, like the laundry.” Jasmine took the brush from her hand and started pulling back the curly locks. “I help Grandmother with her buttons, and all of us have chores in the house. When Lily and Blake are here, things are much easier.”

“What about the fields? Surely we are not reduced to picking cotton or cutting sugar cane.”

“No, silly.” Jasmine giggled. “Uncle Phillip hires workers, some black, some white. Everyone who has not gone to fight in the war needs work. Everything has gotten very dear because of the blockade.”

“Why didn’t anyone tell me what was going on?” Camellia thought of the letters she had received. Not a hint of any troubles had been apparent. Feeling chastised and a little miffed, she dressed in silence.

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