Diane T. Ashley Read Free Page B

of cut flowers and hurried toward them. Sitting down with a sigh of relief, she stretched her toes as far as her shoes would allow. It would be nice if she could reach down and rub her arches, but Camellia—ever the stickler for proper behavior—would have a fit of apoplexy if she saw her sister doing anything so gauche.
    “You seem to be the belle of the ball tonight.” Lily’s voice interrupted her moment of solitude.
    Tucking her feet away, Jasmine glanced up at her oldest sister. Lily’s light brown hair was pulled back into its usual bun, but it gleamed in the light of nearby candles. “Isn’t that what you and Camellia want? Both of you seem insistent on introducing me to suitors so I’ll wed and no longer be a burden to you.”
    “Don’t be a goose.” Lily sat down in the chair next to her, the dove gray silk of her dress sighing like the flutter of birds’ wings. “You’ll never be a burden to me. All I want is for you to be as happy as I am.”
    “And marriage is supposed to make that happen?”
    Before Lily could answer, a shadow fell over their corner. Jasmine frowned as her other sister approached them. Camellia was resplendent as always. A true Southern belle, she wore a gown of light blue watered silk that matched the color of her eyes. Her golden hair was dressed in the latest style—pulled straight back to the crown of her head and allowed to cascade around her face in a profusion of ringlets. “Here the two of you are. I wondered if you were hiding.”
    Jasmine sighed. If she tried to arrange her hair that way, it would have looked like a rat’s nest. But Camellia’s natural curls could always be depended upon to look just right. “I believe you can count your ball a success.”
    Camellia’s blue gaze swept the ballroom. “Who would want to miss such a festive evening? Did I see David here awhile ago?”
    “I saw him at the docks this afternoon and invited him to come.” Lily unfurled the fan each of the ladies had been given at the beginning of the ball—it was noticeably empty of partners’ names—and waved it back and forth. “He didn’t seem certain if he could make it. Did you speak to him, Jasmine?”
    “Only for a moment.” Jasmine’s hands clenched in her lap. “I’ve been so busy dancing.”
    Camellia frowned at her. “I hope you weren’t rude. David considers us his family, you know.”
    “I don’t know why.” Jasmine rolled her eyes. “He and I may have been playmates as children, but he’s hardly been here since last summer.”
    “I’m sure it’s been difficult for him. I wish his father had not died before David tracked him down.” Lily’s brown eyes moistened. “We all know what it’s like to be separated from our parents.”
    Guilt assailed Jasmine. She grew up thinking her father had died in the same accident that took their mother’s life. When he had reappeared eleven years ago, all their lives had changed. Lily had let go of her bitterness, Camellia had focused on her future, and Jasmine had welcomed Papa into her life with an open heart. She had accepted his viewpoint on everything from river traffic to faith. Of course, she was an adult now. She still respected her father, but she was beginning to see that the world could not be viewed as simply as he had once taught her.
    She nodded to a far corner of the ballroom where a knot of dowagers and middle-aged courtiers had gathered. “It looks like Aunt Dahlia is still holding court. No wonder she was so eager for you to have this ball.”
    “I wonder where Uncle Phillip has gotten off to.” Camellia pleated the material of her skirt, her blue gaze fastened on something farther away than their mother’s sister. “I for one am glad to see her so animated. Since Grandmother died, she has become more frail somehow. Some days I worry that she will wilt like an unwatered flower.”
    “I doubt Aunt Dahlia is going to fade away.” Lily’s voice was practical as always. “She’s as strong