Blake pressed his upper teeth against his lower lip and pushed air through them. “What letter makes that sound?”
And so they continued. He wondered if Lily would be proud of the progress David had made. She might not even notice. “You’ve seen the name of our boat, right?”
David nodded.
“Good. Then write Hattie Belle on your slate.”
David wiped his name off the slate with his sleeve and began concentrating once more.
The bond Blake had felt the night before returned in full force. This boy was bright. He would make sure David had a chance to make something of himself. Perhaps one day they would find the boy’s father and reunite them. Or maybe he’d be better off staying on the Hattie Belle. Between Lily and him, they could see to it that the boy recognized his worth and learned to rely on his talents.
He gave David a series of tasks and left him for a while. Blake wanted to set Captain Henrick straight.
The captain was studying a map in the pilothouse but looked up when Blake entered. “Are you through tutoring that towheaded scamp?”
“For the time being.”
Captain Henrick put down his map. “I don’t suppose you came all the way up here to enjoy the sunshine.”
Blake looked around. The view from the highest deck of the Hattie Belle never failed to amaze. Perhaps he should find time to come up here more often. The morning sunshine gleamed on the surface of the water. Most of the boats that had formed the floating island last night were already gone, but there would be more tonight. It was a daily ritual. The old adage of “safety in numbers” was true on the Mississippi. Brigands and pirates could target a lone boat unless it was well hidden.
“No.” Blake turned his attention to the captain. “Now that I know Lily can’t overhear us, I wanted to talk about what happened when I first brought you aboard. I can’t say I didn’t get a little enjoyment from taking your side.”
“I do appreciate it. Otherwise I wouldn’t have gotten the chance to see her or my other daughters.”
Blake smothered a smile. “Yes, well, be that as it may be, I won’t stand for seeing Lily or her sisters hurt by anyone. If you ever cause them pain, I’ll put you off this boat. Whether we’re in Natchez, New Orleans, or Timbuktu, I’ll make sure you don’t get a second chance.”
“If I hurt them and you didn’t run me away, I would lose respect for you, Blake. I have to live with what I did all those years ago, no matter what my reasons. But I would never, ever do that to them again. I am their father, even if Lily doesn’t want me to acknowledge that. I’d never walk away from my family again.” The fervor in Captain Henrick’s words was obvious.
Blake gave him a curt nod and turned on his heel.
“If you want to talk again, Blake, you know where to find me.”
Ignoring the man, he headed for the staircase. Why did it feel like he was retreating? He had nothing to feel guilty about. Then what was the sharp pain in his chest? He hadn’t done the same thing to his family. What had happened between him and his father was altogether different. Wasn’t it?
“I have come to ask for your granddaughter’s company for a sedate ride.” Jean Luc smiled widely. He’d found that charming a young lady’s chaperone was a fruitful effort.
His gaze followed Mrs. Blackstone’s to the sofa where Lily sat, her hands folded demurely in her lap. Her brown eyes sparkled with anticipation. “I don’t see why not, Monsieur Champney.” Mrs. Blackstone returned his smile. “The weather outside is perfect for a carriage ride.”
“Thank you, Grandmother.” Lily rose from the sofa. “I’ll just get my shawl and hat.”
Jean Luc stood when she did and bowed. “I await your pleasure, Miss Anderson.”
He appreciated the pink tint to her cheeks as she exited the room. At least she was still an innocent. He’d had his doubts after she’d spent so much time in New Orleans. He knew firsthand about the opportunities to stray in that city.
“Do you follow politics at all, Monsieur Champney?” Mrs. Blackstone’s voice captured his attention.
“I’m afraid I keep busy with other pursuits. While I was in Europe, I was plunged into the political world of the king and found it to be sordid and dangerous. My father, however, is well versed in political matters.” Jean Luc resumed his seat to the old lady’s right. “I suppose he needs to since he’s a businessman.”
“I’m sure you’re right.” Mrs. Blackstone sipped from her teacup. “I don’t get out much these days, so the newspaper is how I stay abreast of the world. I was reading this morning of a race for the Illinois senate.”
Jean Luc adopted an interested expression. “I’m surprised such a race is covered in the local newspaper.”
“Perhaps you haven’t yet realized how interested we are here in national developments concerning slavery and abolition.” Mrs. Blackstone put down her teacup. “I read all I can about national policies.”
He could not imagine spending that much time perusing anything. He preferred more athletic pursuits and the excitement to be found in gambling salons, although he limited his time there to avoid more disasters.
“You must be quite the scholar.” Jean Luc tried to infuse admiration into his voice while glancing at her hands to see if her fingertips had been blackened from all the newsprint she perused. He hoped her penchant for reading had not rubbed off on Lily. While he appreciated a sensible woman, he had no desire to woo a girl who knew more about every subject than he.
Before Mrs. Blackstone could answer, Lily returned. She was tying the ribbon on a pretty straw hat and had a lacy shawl draped over one arm.
Jean Luc stood and offered his arm. “I am so glad you can join me.”
“It’s sweet of you to invite me.”
Mrs. Blackstone waved them out of the room. “Enjoy your outing, Lily, but don’t be late for dinner.”
A frisson of irritation passed through Jean Luc. Did the woman think he was untrustworthy? Stifling the feeling, he smiled and bowed toward her before leading Lily out to his carriage.
After getting her settled, Jean Luc took the reins and set their vehicle in motion. “Before we get onto another subject, please let me apologize for the antics of the man I recommended to you.”
“You don’t need to apologize.” Lily put a hand on his arm.
Jean Luc tightened his muscles in response, hoping she would be impressed with his strength. “Yes, I do. You are very kind to forgive me, but I need to tell you how devastated I was when he reappeared here in Natchez.”
She removed her hand. “I really wish you would not persist, Monsieur Champney.”
He pulled the carriage to the side of the road under the spreading branches of a live oak so he could concentrate on his passenger rather than his driving. “But I must. I must make you believe I had no idea what kind of man Captain Steenberg is.” He placed a hand over his chest. “I would never have put you or your family in harm’s way. I was so relieved to see the Hattie Belle sailing into port yesterday.”
“You have convinced me of your innocence.” She tilted her head back. “Please don’t waste any more time. I never blamed you for his actions. You have been a good friend to me since the first time we met.”
“Merci.” He took one of her hands, noticing that she was wearing gloves, a barrier to his intentions. Jean Luc used his thumb to slide the white cotton away from the back of her wrist and pressed a fervent kiss against her skin. “I would like to be more than your friend.”
She gasped and tugged at her hand. Reluctantly, Jean Luc allowed her to pull away. Color rode high in her cheeks, and the tenderness he had seen in her expression had disappeared. Lily looked uncertain.
Should he take the opportunity to embrace her? He needed to secure her affection. He didn’t want her to leave town again without making her aware of his intentions.
“Monsieur Champney—”
He could tell from the tone of her voice that she was not as entranced as she should be by his attentions.
He groaned, the sound stopping her words. “Please don’t tell me I have overstepped.”
“No, you’re not the problem. I find your sentiments flattering. How could I not? You’re a fine gentleman.” She sighed and looked down at her lap. “I have so many things to worry about these days, I really don’t have time to accept a courtship.”
At least she hadn’t demurred because she had no feelings for him. Jean Luc would capitalize on this scant encouragement. “I can see the burdens you carry, Miss Anderson. I hate to watch you work so hard. I want to be someone you can lean upon.” He could tell his words had hit the mark by the returning tenderness in her expression.
“Jean Luc, you are very kind. But I cannot impose upon you any more than I already have.”
“At least let me find someone to replace Captain Steenberg.”
“That’s not necessary. We found someone in New Orleans. The crew and even my sisters seem to be taken with him, so I suppose we will keep him in our employ unless something drastic happens.”
“Then what can I do for you, Lily?” He reached for her hand, massaging it gently, trying to project unthreatening support. “There must be something you need.”
She shook her head. “I think Blake and I have things under control. He hired our current crew and oversaw the repairs.”
“I’m glad Matthews is treating you well, but I must admit to reservations about him.” He pulled her hand to his chest. “Please promise me you will not lower your guard with him. He may be trying to lull you into a vulnerable position before taking advantage of your trusting nature.”
She stiffened. “I know you mean well, Jean Luc, but you must allow me some credit. I am not as naive as you might think.”
Jean Luc released her and let his shoulders droop. “Now I’ve offended you.”
“You haven’t offended me, Jean Luc. I appreciate your concern. It’s just that no one seems to have any faith in me. I am not a helpless debutante.” She sat up straight, turning slightly away. “Please take me home.”
He had to be satisfied with that. Jean Luc turned the carriage around and started the trip back to her family’s home.
Why did Lily have to be so prickly? He had never met a young lady so difficult to please. He only hoped she was worth the effort. And she was, he reminded himself. She was the way to regain everything—his father’s approval, his boat, his self-esteem. Lily was the key to his future.
Chapter Thirty-six
Please, please let me stay, Lily.” Camellia’s expression was filled with hope, yearning, and optimism.
Lily sighed and touched her sister’s pretty curls with a finger. Her heart was tearing in half. Camellia had not thrived on the river like she and Jasmine had. Where they had enjoyed searching for the next adventure around the bend, Camellia had been happiest when they were staying with the Thorntons in New Orleans. But to separate the three of them? And would Camellia be truly happy here, or would she find herself in a situation similar to the one that had made Lily purchase the Hattie Belle in the first place? “What about Aunt Dahlia?”
Camellia’s face sparkled like sunshine hitting the surface of the river. “She’s promised me an exciting season now that I’m old enough to be a debutante. I may even find a husband by Christmas.”
Concern flashed through Lily. Camellia was not mature enough to be responsible for a household and children. “You’re only fifteen. Don’t be in such a hurry to grow up.”
“I won’t.” Camellia walked to the tall window that graced one side of the fireplace, covered for the summer with a hand-painted screen.
Lily followed her to the window and put an arm around her younger sister’s waist.
Camellia leaned against her and sighed. “I’m sorry, Lily. I know you want to live on a boat, but I’m more suited to ballrooms. Please say you’ll let me stay. I can continue my piano lessons. Uncle Phillip knows an art teacher who can improve my drawing.”
Words choked Lily’s throat. Was everything changing? Again? Feeling like she’d been stabbed in the chest, she nodded. “I suppose you can stay.”
A squeal of excitement was followed by a big hug from Camellia. “Thank you so much, Lily. I promise I’ll be good. So good you’ll be amazed the next time you come home.”
She returned Camellia’s hug, hoping she’d made the right decision. It didn’t feel right, but how could she force her sister to return to a life that didn’t suit her? Perhaps if there were no other option, she would insist that Camellia come back to the Hattie Belle.
A thought came to her, an odd echo. Had their father faced a similar decision? She pushed the thought away. Their father had not offered them a choice. He had simply walked away. Perhaps if he’d come to visit them over the years, if he’d made any attempt at communication, she might understand. But none of them had seen him until the day Blake hired him to captain their boat.
Camellia kissed her cheek then danced around the room as if waltzing with a partner. “I hope Grandmother will let me take dancing lessons.”
A laugh gurgled up from Lily’s throat. “You certainly will be busy with all these lessons. Perhaps instead of remaining here, you should go to a good finishing school.”
Camellia stopped abruptly, her blue eyes opening wide. “You would let me go to school?”
“Of course I would.” Lily wondered if she could bribe her sister. “We’ll be taking our next load to Memphis, but I imagine we’ll head back to New Orleans after that. I’m sure either the Thorntons or Sarah Cartier could recommend several good schools. Of course if you’re not with us, what good would that do?”
Her sister considered Lily’s words. “Will you let me stay here while you go to Memphis? You could pick me up before you return to New Orleans.”
Lily nodded slowly. Camellia had never had the problems with Aunt Dahlia that Lily had. But she didn’t want to see her sister pushed into a loveless marriage, and minimizing the contact between the two was the best way to make sure Camellia was safe from manipulation.
The door to the parlor opened, and the subject of her thoughts walked into the room. Aunt Dahlia’s black skirts swished as she crossed the room and settled on the sofa. “Have you gotten everything settled?”
The pain stabbed Lily again, caused by a sense of betrayal. She looked toward Camellia, who would not return her gaze.
“I hope you’ll one day come to your senses, Lily.” Aunt Dahlia’s voice drew her attention from her traitorous sibling. “But whether you do or not, there’s no reason to destroy Camellia’s and Jasmine’s chances of making advantageous marriages.”
“I don’t believe seeing a little of the world is a bad thing for a young woman.”
“What more could they learn than can be taught here in Natchez? You may turn up your nose at the local society, but I can promise you that the best and brightest young men are to be found right outside our door.”
Lily realized she shouldn’t give her aunt the satisfaction of an argument, but she couldn’t keep silent. “Not every woman thinks marriage is the only future for her. I want to make sure my sisters have choices.”
“I want to thank you for giving me a choice.” Camellia moved to the sofa and sat next to Aunt Dahlia. “And for accepting that my decision is different from your own.”
Lily’s mouth opened to refute her sister, but she snapped it shut. Nothing was to be gained by continuing this discussion. As Camellia had pointed out, she did believe in choices. It was the very reason she’d first embarked on her quest to make a home for them on the river. She just wished it didn’t hurt so badly to contemplate the schism that seemed to be forming between her and Camellia.
She nodded and left the parlor, feeling like she was leaving part of her heart behind.
Chapter Thirty-seven
Lily took a moment to sit in the shade on the upper deck before beginning her next chore. They missed Camellia, but with the increased number of passengers, no one had much time to dwell on such matters. She had no free time at all. She
rose at daybreak, dressed, and headed to the kitchen to help prepare breakfast. Then she scrubbed dishes, washed floors, took care of the needs of the women passengers. No matter how badly she wanted to, it seemed she could never find enough time to read her Bible and pray.
Maybe she should take her Bible to the afternoon tea in the ladies’ parlor. Or would that be too pretentious? Would the passengers appreciate a daily Bible study? She could read a few verses and then ask everyone’s opinion. Uncertain of exactly where to start, Lily wondered who might advise her. She wished her friend Sarah was with them. She would have bushels of ideas, and the energetic matron would infect all the ladies.
With a sigh, Lily picked up the bowl of butter beans she’d shelled to help Jensen. He was peeling potatoes to go along with his planned lunch of ham and redeye gravy. Her mouth watered as she imagined the delicious—
“Oof.” Lily barreled into someone, her momentum causing him to rock back. Her nose was firmly buried in his chest. His hands caught her shoulders and held on as they teetered. In the moment it took him to recover his balance, she knew who held her. Blake’s cologne was unmistakable, a heady mix of spice and leather. Why did it have to be him? She pushed at Blake’s hard chest and took a step back. “Let go of me.”
When he immediately complied, Lily was overcome by a feeling of loss. What was the matter with her? She glanced up at his face.
His gaze met hers, his blue eyes twinkling. A smile softened his face and set her heart thumping. “You’ve got to start watching your step, or you’re going to fall overboard.”
“I’m sorry.” She forced the words out, her gaze falling to the deck. “I wasn’t paying attention.”
His hand caught her chin, lifting it with a gentleness that made her breath catch. When their gazes met, she felt it all the way to her toes. Everything in her trembled. Her fingers clung to the bowl of shelled beans as to a life preserver.
Lily (Song of the River) Page 23