The Shipmaster's Daughter (15 page)

“Yes. She started cleaning the windows a week or so ago. Don’t think she ever got around to finishing the job, though.”

“Well, now she can. She clean the whole place up, take care of it, do whatever she wants with it.”
Just as long as she stays.

Jack smirked. “You seem awful eager to keep her here. Didn’t you want her gone just a couple of weeks ago?”

“Oh, come off it,” Reed said, waving his hand. “You saw the way people treated her in town. Jack, she could never get a job. Yellow Brook is the best place for her.”

“What if she doesn’t want to stay?”

Reed’s heart skipped a beat. He hadn’t thought of that. What if Esther had hurt her so badly she truly did want to leave? He bit his lip. “We’ll just have to hope she does.”

He was more surprised to see her at dinner that evening than he was when hearing her intention to quit. Her eyes were bloodshot and red and when she spoke, she sounded like she was in the middle of a cold. No doubt she had been crying. Esther, too, looked disastrous. She barely touched her food and sighed every few seconds. Whatever had happened, he didn’t want to know.

Once supper was cleared, Reed followed Luciana out into the rotunda. Her heels echoed as she stepped slowly across the marble floor, twirling a white rose in-between her fingers. He walked behind her, close enough to see her clearly, but far enough away so she could not see him. She stopped in the middle of the rotunda and looked toward the domed ceiling. She sighed, a wistful, sad sigh that made his chest clench.

“Miss Renaldi?”

She jolted and dropped the rose. Wide, alarmed eyes fixed on him, but she relaxed after she recognized him. Bending to pick up the rose, he heard her laugh as he strode forward. “You startled me.”

“I noticed.”

He stopped several feet before her. She moved the flower behind her back.

“The rose was from Peters,” she said, as if she could read the question poised on his tongue. “He said he would miss me.” Her voice grew thick. She looked down, her lips pulled into a tight line.

“You don’t have to go.”

She looked up. “Yes, I do. I’ve told you,
Signore
Hargrave, I will not be Esther’s governess.”

He felt himself smile. “No, I know. But…you don’t have to go.” His feet took him a step forward; he could smell the perfume on her neck. It was like vanilla and brown sugar.

“I really—I really should,” she whispered.

“I—Jack doesn’t want you to leave,” he started. When she looked away, he continued. “Frankly, neither do I.”

Her eyes returned to his, this time shining with relief, maybe even joy. He couldn’t be sure. “There’s nothing I can do. I’m not like Jack. I need to work.”

Reed laughed. His fingers itched to cup her cheek and his mouth longed to tell her just how delightful she was, but he refrained on both accounts. He wasn’t sure he wanted to care for her in that way. With the thought in mind, he stepped back. She blinked and bit her lower lip.

“I’ve considered that.” He paused, eyes searching her face. “You can work in the conservatory.”

“The conservatory?”

“You told me you knew plants. I don’t. You can do whatever you wish in there, just so long as the plants are healthy and the place clean. We’ll pay you.
I’ll
pay you.”

Tears filled her eyes. She lifted her hand to cover her mouth and shook her head.

He frowned. “You do not accept?”

“No, no, no–”

Reed pinched his lips together and backed away. Of course. Why would she want to stay? She had nothing to keep her here. He was wrong to assume any differently.

He cleared his throat, returned his hands to their usual place behind his back, and looked toward the staircase. “Right, of course. You can do much better than the conservatory.” He bowed stiffly at the waist. “Good night, Miss Renaldi.”

He walked away, his arms stiff at his sides. He tried to tell himself that this was for the best. She would leave now and he would be rid of his feelings. All would return to normal.

“Reed, wait.”

The air in his chest stilled. His head felt muddled and fuzzy.

He stopped at the foot of the staircase. The sound of her shoes against the floor quickened as she came towards him. Slowly, he turned around.

She looked up at him with joyous eyes, still shimmering with unshed tears. “You didn’t let me finish. I’ll do it.”

He faltered. It had been the answer he wanted, but not the one he expected. “Oh. Wonderful.”

“Grazie.”
She touched his forearm. It sent a shiver coiling up and down his spine. “Really, Reed, you’re generosity seems to know no bounds.” She drew her hand away. “I’m very grateful.”

“I’m only acting as one friend would to another.”

Her head titled slightly. “Friends…yes.” She smiled and stepped away. “I’ll start in the morning. Goodnight,
Signore
Hargrave.”

“Goodnight, Miss Renaldi.”

She went up the stairs and disappeared around the corner. Reed’s brain had long since gone to mush and his heart beat rapidly. He reached for the banister and lowered himself onto the last step.

When she said his name, his Christian name, her accent made him feel that everyone he knew had been saying his name wrong since birth. The memory of the sound alone made his head spin.

“Reed?”

He looked up. Only Jack.

“Reed, what are you doing sitting on the stairs?”

Reed stood and brushed his hands off. “I was thinking.” He hoped his voice didn’t waver.

“About Miss Renaldi?”

Reed was sure that, had his skin not been as tough as it was, he would be blushing. “In a manner of speaking, yes.”

“Did you ask her about the conservatory?”

He turned, took the stairs two at a time, and stopped once he reached the top. Jack was close behind him, winded by the time he reached Reed’s side. When he caught his breath, he repeated his inquiry.

Reed continued down the hall toward his room. “You ask too many questions.” Jack raised his eyebrows. “If you must know, yes, I asked her if she wanted to repair the conservatory, and, yes, she accepted.”

Jack broke into a grin. “Marvelous news!”

“I thought so.”

“The next thing you have to ask is whether or not she’ll marry you.”

Reed’s jaw went slack. If he hadn’t been so bloody shocked, he would have socked Jack in the cheekbone. Jack laughed, clapping Reed’s shoulder as he held his chest.

“Joking, joking,” he said, holding his hands up in defense.

Reed narrowed his eyes. “I hope so.”

Jack’s smile wavered and he tightened his grip on Reed’s shoulder. “Look, I’m going to need to leave in the morning. I’ve got some business to attend to in Manchester. I’ll be back on Friday, though. You can’t get rid of me for too long.”

“You have no business in Manchester. The last time you were there we were in school.”

Jack shrugged. “Something’s come up. Don’t worry. It will all make sense come Friday.”

“Jack, what’s going on? You aren’t sick, are–”

“Pah! Sick, no! I don’t get sick, Reed, and when I do, it’s not fatal. Please, forget I even said anything. I wanted you to know I would be gone so you’ll have to take over business for awhile.”

“I’m sure I can manage.”

“Of course you can. And on Friday, the whole house will have its surprise.”

“I don’t like the sound of that.”

“I knew you wouldn’t, but you’ll like it when you see it. Or someone will, if it’s not you.”

Reed shook his head, smirking. “Is that all?”

“Yes, sir.” Jack saluted, wiggling his eyebrows. “Goodnight, sir.”

“Get to bed, Jack.”

Chapter 17

T
hunder clapped. The wind howled and rain pounded the ground. When the window burst open and clattered against the side of the house, Luciana bolted upright, clutching her sheets against her chest. She shut her eyes. In and out, in and out, she breathed.

It was still dark out, and even though the rain was heavy, she could see stars dotting the night sky. A flash of lightening, followed closely by thunder, lit the darkness. She jumped out of bed and slammed the window shut. There was no way she could fall asleep now, not with the booming thunder.

She grabbed her shawl from the end of her bed and wrapped it around her shoulders. The clock on the mantle showed five-ten. At least it was morning. It was all right to be up this early. Her father had done it many times when behind on his work. Luciana wasn’t behind on her work, though. She was ready to start and just before the sun rose was the perfect time to begin. No one would be awake for at least an hour. She would have the conservatory to herself, no distractions.

Yes, morning was perfect.

Shedding her shawl and nightgown, she slipped into her brown dress and ran a brush through her hair. Adrenaline pumped through her blood. She hadn’t been this excited since her father agreed to adopting a kitten. She no longer cared if staying in Yellow Brook meant putting herself in danger—in danger of losing her heart to one Reed Hargrave.

She shivered and placed the brush back on the vanity. She was perhaps closer to loving him than she’d ever been before. He was–

Luciana didn’t want to think about it. Working in the conservatory would only be a temporary position, just as being Esther’s governess had been. She still wanted to get out, be free, make something of herself.

She pulled her hair into a low bun and opened the door. She forewent shoes, which made walking quietly down the hall much easier. In Italy, when working in her garden, she had never worn shoes, choosing instead to feel the cool earth between her toes. If she went without slippers now, it might bring her a little closer to home.

Unsurprisingly, the conservatory was deserted. The door creaked as it opened. The room was shrouded in darkness, save for the light of the moon streaming in through the dome. Long, wild tree branches smacked against the window panes from the outside. Luciana’s bare feet padded quietly as she walked across the floor. It was eerie to be alone in a room, in the dark, with nothing but dead plants and a statue fountain. Maybe she should have waited until the sun had risen.

No. She was going to start now. There was no one to disturb her at this time. Although, it wasn’t likely that anyone would disturb her during the day either.

It was difficult to locate the chandelier, as it was not hanging in the center of the room, but further left and back. When she did find it, she lit the candles underneath the four white spheres and placed the spheres back over the candles. In an instant light filled the room and Luciana breathed a sigh of relief. With illumination restored, she could begin to work. On a slate taken from the schoolroom, she wrote down all of the plants—dead or alive—within the room, then began to uproot them from their beds. Dirt soon covered the floor and her arms, but she was happy. She had missed working with plants. They were so unlike people. They didn’t lie, or cheat, or steal; they didn’t abandon their families... She sighed.

The decision her father had made to leave her behind was final. There was nothing she could have done about it, nor do about it now. There was no use dwelling on the past. A familiar tune—her mother’s favorite bed-time song—filled her head. She began to hum, and soon, became so consumed in her work she didn’t hear the door open.

“Miss Renaldi?”

The hand-spade in Luciana’s grasp dropped. It narrowly missed slicing through her skin. She gasped, her body gone tense. She braced her hands against the edge of the raised plant bed, ducking her head below her arms.

“Miss Renaldi?”

Heart still pumping in her throat, she looked up. Esther stood in the door way, clad in her nightgown. Her feet were also bare and her toes curled as she stood on the cold ground. Luciana straightened. She hadn’t been expecting Esther. Really, she hadn’t been expecting anyone, but least of all Esther.

“Esther, what are you doing up?” How much time had passed since Luciana first came down? Certainly not long enough to warrant Esther standing there in her nightgown, hair in disarray, eyes puffy with sleep.

“I came to see you.” Her hands twitched at her sides. Luciana had noticed Reed’s hands do that same thing quite often. Esther must have picked up the habit.

“Why? And why at this hour? It’s still dark out.” She walked forward and reached for Esther’s shoulder. “Why don’t I take you back to your room? We can talk in the morning if you like.”

Esther jerked her shoulder out of Luciana’s grasp. “No. I wouldn’t like. I want to talk now.”

Luciana drew her hand away. Her eyebrows rose high on her forehead and she crossed her arms. This would prove interesting. “All right. What is it you have to say right now?”

“I’m sorry.”

Add that to the list of things Luciana hadn’t expected of this morning. Her arms dropped and she lowered her eyebrows. “Oh.”

“You didn’t tell Father what I did, did you?”

“No. And I don’t plan to.”

“Well, I am sorry. It was mean of me to read so fast. I know you were trying your best.” She turned to go before hesitating. “I hope we can still be friends. I like you.” Her lips pulled up into a small smile. “Just not as my teacher.”