Diane T. Ashley (6 page)

“By the time I was your age—”

“I know. You were already a successful businesswoman with a boat and crew to manage.” Jasmine picked up the toy soldiers that belonged to Noah. “And Camellia was choosing amongst her numerous suitors for the best possible match.”

Silence filled the spacious room as Lily considered what to say next. She didn’t know how to talk to Jasmine anymore. A part of her longed for bygone days when her sister was a happy-go-lucky girl with a penchant for adventure. “What do you want from me?”

“I want to go to Chicago, or New York, or even San Francisco—anywhere that I can act on a real stage in front of a real audience.” A wistful sigh and downcast eyes accompanied Jasmine’s answer.

Lily had thought it difficult when Camellia wanted to attend a finishing school in New Orleans during the thorny days preceding the war. That was nothing compared to the idea of sending Jasmine to some far-off city. Nightmare scenarios filled her imagination. “I thought you were happy with the Shakespearean play you and the other young people are putting on for the community. It was your idea. And I am so proud of you for wanting to help the orphanage by donating the proceeds to them. Miss Deborah told me she hopes to purchase a new stove and pay for several other repairs.”

Jasmine meandered to the window. “It’s fine, but I want to be as famous as ‘The Divine Sarah.’ And that’s not likely to happen here in Natchez, performing in a homemade production to benefit the orphanage.”

“I’d say she is more infamous than famous.” Lily walked up behind her sister and looked out over the plantation grounds. “What would Aunt Dahlia have to say about a niece who performs on the stage and has the reputation of a Sarah Bernhardt? The poor thing is liable to have a fit of apoplexy.”

A choked giggle from Jasmine brought her some hope. If she could get her sister laughing, maybe they could work together to find a compromise to satisfy Jasmine’s need for recognition while keeping her safe from harm.

Lily snapped her fingers as a new idea occurred to her. “What if we plan a trip to Chicago this winter?”

“Do you mean it?” Jasmine swung around, her violet eyes practically glowing with excitement.

“Yes.” Lily’s excitement built as her vague idea began to take form. “We could ask Camellia and Tamar to go with us, too. We could spend at least a week, maybe even two there.”

The excitement disappeared from Jasmine’s expressive eyes. “Unless you plan on leaving me behind, that wouldn’t be enough time to accomplish anything.”

“I’m afraid anything longer is out of the question.” Lily frowned at the windowpane. “Maybe we could have David escort us. He would be the perfect one to make sure you were safe if we did have to leave.”

“Don’t be silly. David Foster doesn’t want to be saddled with someone like me.”

Lily was surprised at the venom in Jasmine’s voice. “What do you mean? That boy has worshipped the ground you walk on since both of you were children. He’s pulled you out of more scrapes than I can count.”

“Maybe so.” Jasmine pulled at the material of her cuff. “But I have it on the best authority that he has no interest in me anymore.”

“Who told you that? Some jealous debutante? You should know better than to listen to gossip.”

A deep sadness came over Jasmine, and she sighed. “I wasn’t listening to gossip, Sissy. He said it himself.”

It had been a decade since Jasmine used her pet name for Lily. Aunt Dahlia had forbidden it in public, and Lily thought her sister had outgrown it. Protectiveness was her first response, followed swiftly by betrayal and anger. “I can hardly believe his ingratitude. David has always been welcome in this house and in our lives. For him to say such a mean thing to you is inexcusable. The next time I see him, I’m going to give him a piece of my mind.”

Jasmine’s eyes widened. “Please don’t.”

“He deserves much worse. Wait until Blake hears about this.”

“You can’t say anything to David. He didn’t mean to hurt my feelings. He didn’t know I was in the room when he said it.” Jasmine’s chin quivered. “Besides all that, he has a right to his opinion. Everyone has that right. If he has outgrown his feelings for me, I’d rather know it.”

Lily pulled her sister into a hug. Jasmine’s arms went around her, and the poor thing began crying like her heart was breaking. She rubbed her sister’s back in a comforting motion while she wondered how she could have been so wrong.

It had to be a misunderstanding. She had watched David grow up. That man loved Jasmine more than he loved his own life. Sure he’d been away from Natchez for a time, but no one changed that much. And at the ball the other night, he had made a beeline for Jasmine. “Don’t worry, sweetheart.”

The tears ceased a little later. Jasmine pulled away, sniffed, and began fishing for something.

“What’s the matter?”

Jasmine shook her head. “I need a handkerchief.”

“Here, use mine.” Lily pulled a rumpled square of cloth from her skirt pocket and watched as Jasmine mopped her face with it.

“Thanks.” Jasmine tucked the handkerchief into her sleeve. “I’m sorry I fell apart. It was just a shock to hear David describe me as nothing more than a childish infatuation. He said it with such contempt. Like he wished he’d never met me.”

Lily brushed a strand of hair back from Jasmine’s temple. “The more you tell me, the more I’m inclined to believe something else is going on here. David may be going through something we know nothing about.”

“I’ll bet Marguerite Trahan knows about it, whatever it is. That’s who he was confiding in.”

Patting her sister on the shoulder, Lily shook her head. “If you don’t want me to talk to him about what he said, I hope you will. He probably has a reasonable explanation. Maybe he’s trying to make you jealous. You were a bit cool to him the other night during the ball.” The more she thought about it, the more convinced Lily became that David was either put out by Jasmine’s refusal to dance or trying to draw her attention.

“I don’t think I can.”

Lily raised an eyebrow. “If you don’t, I will.”

That brought Jasmine’s chin up. Good. She hoped her sister would confront David. And Lily would be there to comfort her if David really was falling in love with someone else.

As she moved to go outside and collect her other two children so she could get them ready for lunch, Lily wondered why life had to be so complicated. Why couldn’t things run as smoothly as they did when the family was on the river? Their biggest problems then were a cranky boiler or passenger. No prickly questions of love or heartbreak.

She could hardly wait to get to New Orleans. Maybe her friends in that city could offer sage advice or some way to redirect Jasmine’s energy. She didn’t want her sister to continue pining about, dreaming of a future that would only lead to heartbreak and disappointment.

J
asmine peeked out at the audience. Miss Deborah, the lady who had run Mercy House since before Jasmine was born, sat on the front row. Her hair was pulled back in a tight bun, and her kindly face wore a wide smile.

Jasmine didn’t even mind seeing Miss Deborah’s assistant, Marguerite, occupying the seat next to her. Beyond her were Jean Luc Champney with his wife and mother. David’s blond hair was visible on the second row. He sat with Papa, Lily, Camellia, and the rest of her family. Beyond them she could hear the rustle of the audience, but she couldn’t make out the faces.

“Are you ready, Cordelia?”

Recognizing her character’s name, Jasmine swung around and curtsied to Cedrick Wilson, who was playing King Lear, the title character in Shakespeare’s play. A flowing white beard had been glued to his face and obscured everything below his brown eyes. He tugged on the beard with one hand as he waited for her response.

Jasmine glanced down at her own outfit and some of her pre-performance excitement ebbed. Miss Deborah and Tamar had done an excellent job sewing the various costumes for their project. Camellia had not liked the idea of using material taken from the rag bins at Les Fleurs, and Jasmine had wanted to agree with her. She would have loved a fancy costume, complete with flowing robes and a conical hat. But then ever-practical Lily had suggested that the money they would spend on new cloth would do much better going to replace the orphanage roof.

“Buck up, Jasmine.” Cedrick’s voice teased her. “You don’t die until the end of the play.”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “I have a lot on my mind.”

Cedrick was the handsome younger son of one of the wealthiest plantation owners in Natchez. Jasmine had been flattered when he set aside his philandering tendencies to spend time helping with their production. For a while her family had thought he might be trying to fix his interest with her, but Cedrick had never been anything but a friend. She valued his friendship but knew, as he apparently did, that they had no warmer feelings toward each other.

“I think the whole town is out there.” He inclined his head toward the audience.

Jasmine followed his gaze. “What else is there to do in Natchez?”

He raised an eyebrow but didn’t answer. He didn’t have to. She had spent enough time at the docks to hear about the “entertainments” available at the various inns and gambling saloons.

The voice of the stage manager interrupted their whispered conversation. “Take your places everyone.”

As the play began, Cedrick took her hand and squeezed it. Jasmine mouthed the opening words along with the actors playing the parts of the dukes of Kent and Gloucester, George Reed and Tom Hayes. “I’ve never seen anyone more focused than you, Jasmine. I—”

Other actors joined them, including Ellen Tate and Wendy Jeffers, who were playing King Lear’s older daughters, Goneril and Regan.

“Is it time for our entrance?” Ellen asked.

Cedrick nodded and dropped Jasmine’s hand. As she followed him and the others onto the stage, Jasmine wished for a moment that he were interested in her. At least Cedrick understood what made her heart pound with anticipation. He didn’t try to convince her to let go of her dreams. He would probably even support her desire to leave Natchez. But she didn’t have time for romance. She had a career to pursue.

“Love, and be silent.” Jasmine’s first words were a bit shaky. She needed to forget everything else. She could not fail now, or Lily would never take her seriously. When it came time to speak again, she put everything into the words. They soared over the audience, bringing the reaction she had hoped for and setting up the Bard’s tragedy.

The curtain rose and fell, each scene tightening the knot until none of the characters could succeed. From her place off-stage in “prison,” Jasmine realized her eyes had adjusted to the dim light in the audience. She could see a few of the women dabbing at their eyes with handkerchiefs, and her heart lifted. This might be a ragtag group of actors and their stage might be nothing more than a raised dais with homemade curtains, but still they were managing to elicit emotion from the audience.

By the time the curtain fell for the final time, Jasmine knew they were a success. Cedrick winked as he took her hand and led her to the center of the stage. They waited as the other actors crowded around them—from the smallest of the children who’d spoken no lines to those who had memorized dozens of speeches over the past weeks—all proud of the work they had done to ensure the orphanage would continue operating.

The curtain rose, and applause began in earnest. Cedrick pulled her with him as he stepped forward. She curtsied while he bowed, wishing he would not be so attentive now. Everyone would think they had an understanding.

Jasmine forced her mouth into a wide smile and concentrated on the future. One day she would perform in front of a real audience. She would stand in front of a heavy curtain made of rich crimson velvet and bow to a full theater of well-educated patrons who had paid hefty prices for the chance to watch her perform.

Instead of enjoying this moment, Jasmine found herself wondering if Lily would ever allow her to follow her own dreams. She wanted more, much more, than what Natchez had to offer. She wanted fame. She wanted to see her name on a theater marquis, to be feted and adored by people from all over America. From all over the world, actually.

Aunt Dahlia might not approve, but that wouldn’t stop Jasmine. She would not be ashamed of her own dreams even if her family didn’t support them. Providing entertainment to others was a time-honored tradition. It gave people chances to forget for a while their boring, humdrum lives.

Since she’d been a youngster, Jasmine had found satisfaction in performing for others. Family and friends all told her she was talented. If only Lily would let her go to Chicago or New York—anywhere that would give her a chance to see her dreams come true. Why couldn’t anyone else understand that? Was she always to be alone?

David stood back a little as Jasmine’s family congratulated her. He wished he understood why she had such a strong hold on his heart in spite of everything. She was beautiful, of course. But he had met beautiful women in both California and Illinois. No one intrigued him like the dark-haired minx who was accepting the compliments of her family with an attitude adopted from British royalty.