The Shipmaster's Daughter (14 page)

“We’re going to do reading this morning,” Luciana said. She placed a chalkboard and piece of chalk before her pupil. “We’ll save arithmetic for after lunch.”

Esther looked at Luciana, her eyebrows raised. “Are you sure we should be doing this?”

“Why wouldn’t we?”

Esther’s cheeks colored and she lowered her voice. “Are you sure you can?”

A lump lodged in Luciana’s throat. She rose slowly from her seat, turning to the window. What she wouldn’t give to be able to throw it open and drink in the fresh air. She counted to ten before answering.

“
Si
, I’m sure. Open up your book.” Esther sighed, but listened, opening to the marked page in
The Wonderful Wizard of Oz.
“Begin reading.”

When Ester read aloud, her words jumbled together into a mesh Luciana was barely able to understand. She would lean closer and strain her ears, but sometimes, the meaning of the words went in one ear and out the other. It was difficult. Luciana could speak English well enough, and most of the time she understood it, but when Esther read, it was like she forgot everything she’d ever learned.

Today, Esther read faster than she ever had. She would attempt a surreptitious look Luciana’s way every once and a while, as if checking to see if she was able to keep up. When she saw Luciana struggling, she would pick up the pace, leaning closer to the book so her voice grew muffled.

Luciana wanted to ask her to slow down, to speak clearly. She wanted to reprimand the child for being so cruel-hearted. But she could not. Her mind was whirling so fast, working so hard to keep up, she was barely able to form a thought. She lowered her head and focused on the rapid fire words. She understood a phrase here and there and then Esther said something she didn’t understand and she was back at the beginning. She curled her hands around the arms of her chair and felt her chest begin to heave with her labored breaths. Her cheeks burned.

Finally, she could take it no more. She stood with such force her chair toppled over. “
Cessare!
” she shouted. Esther didn’t need to know Italian to understand that meant stop.

Esther’s eyes, wide with fear, darted upwards. She lowered the book. “Miss Renaldi?” she whispered.

Luciana couldn’t even look at her. She turned away and looked at her hands. They were shaking. Disgust ripped through her. “Go, Esther,” she said, her voice returning to its even tone.

“But, Miss–”

“Go, Esther!”

The girl tore out of the room, sobbing.

Gasping, Luciana sank into her chair. She pressed a hand against her chest and closed her eyes. This would come back to haunt her. Esther would tell Reed and Reed would turn her out. She would lose him, lose what strange, unexpected friendship was blossoming between them.

A thought struck her. Maybe he could speak to Esther, get her to see her errs, if Luciana spoke to him first. Then maybe—just maybe—she could stay. Rising from her seat, Luciana bolted from the room. She had work to do before he returned. Important work.

It was nearly three o’clock that afternoon when Jack and Reed returned. Luciana spent most of the day making lists and she had come to the conclusion that telling Reed the truth, but not the whole truth, was her best option.

When she was composed, Luciana headed toward Reed’s office. Her footsteps fell hard against the floor. Once more, determination consumed her. Without any warning, she burst through the door, closed it, and spoke before Reed could even ask what she was doing.

“I can’t do it,
Signore
Hargrave,” she said, her words abrupt. “I can’t teach Esther.”

The surprise and anger on his face melted away at once, replaced with understanding. He said nothing at first. He rubbed his hand across his jaw. A stray lock of hair fell before his eyes and he flicked it away. In the long silence, Luciana noted that he wasn’t wearing his suit jacket. It was the first time she’d seen him without it. He wore only a gray, well fitted shirt, dark suspenders, and dark trousers. The first few buttons of his shirt were undone, exposing his strong chest. She looked away.

“What seems to be the problem?” he asked.

Luciana stepped away from the door. “She’s—She–” She hesitated. Reed looked at Esther like she was the queen of the world. He loved her more than anything. How would he react to what Luciana had to say?

He urged her on. “It’s all right. Say what you must.”

Her hands fidgeted. “
Perdere
Hargrave and I don’t get along. She gets frustrated with me and she has reason to.”

The words she had prepared all day suddenly seemed futile. She was no good as a governess. Reed wanted Esther taught and taught well. He had made that clear when offering her the position. Luciana wasn’t capable of giving Esther the education she deserved. The girl may be spoiled and sometimes rotten, but she deserved a good teacher. It was clear to Luciana now that staying in Yellow Brook, discovering just what the home and its owner meant to her, was a hopeless dream.

Reed rounded his desk and motioned for her to continue. “Please, go on.”

Glancing around the room, Luciana couldn’t help but recall the last time she’d been in his office. It was the first time she’d seen him. Like she had startled him, he had startled her. He and his dominating presence. She wondered, briefly, if this might be one of the last times they spoke. The thought struck a painful cord in her heart.

No! She should be glad she was leaving. Isn’t that what she wanted? She wanted freedom, somewhere grand and glorious. She wanted to meet new people, see new things. For heaven’s sake, she wanted a job. She didn’t care what: a millworker, a maid, a midwife even. She wanted to do something good, something she was
good
at.

“Miss Renaldi?” His voice broke through her thoughts again, gentle and imploring.

“Well,” she started again, “I know plants and Italy,
Signore
Hargrave. Nothing else. I can’t give Esther the teaching you want for her.”

He leaned against the front of his desk and crossed his arms. “Are you quitting, then?” He spat the word
quitting
like it left a bad taste in his mouth.

Luciana bit her lip, unsure of how to answer. Was she quitting? Yes. Yes, she was. And it was for the good of everyone. Especially herself. “Yes,
signore
.”

From his pocket, Reed withdrew a silver container. He pulled a cigarette out of the inside and tapped the ends of it against the desk. He did not light it. He only held it between his fingers.

At long last, when the silence between them had stretched so thick one could cut it with a knife, he said, “I’m sorry to hear that.”

An inexplicable sense of guilt seized Luciana by the throat. She could barely speak. Her eyes grew misty. “Yes,
signore
,” she whispered.

“We’ll pay you a month’s wages–”

The water in her eyes receded as she shook her head. “You shouldn’t. I’ve barely done anything to–”

“It’s final,” he said. “A month’s wages.”

“Thank you,
signore
.”

Reed held her gaze and she transported back to the hallway again. His eyes said so much and yet so little. A question—one she couldn’t place—waited there today. No pity, no hope. Only a question.

The moment shattered like dropped glass when he stood upright. “I have work to finish.”

“Of course. Thank you.” She headed toward the door, her feet slow. When her hand touched the cold knob, she looked over her shoulder. He was still standing in front of his desk, cigarette in hand, eyes fixed on her. “I’m sorry,” she added. “It was wrong of me—of
us—
to ever assume I could teach her.”

He took a step forward. “Miss Renaldi–”

She opened the door. A draft of cold air from the hallway lifted across her skin. Thank God for it. She had broken out in a sweat. “Good evening,
Signore
Hargrave.”

With pinched lips, he nodded. She saw his fist curl around the cigarette, crushing it. “Good evening, Miss Renaldi.”

She scooted into the hallway, shutting the door firmly behind her. If that was what was best for Esther, best for herself, why did she feel like crying? Why did he matter to her now?

He didn’t. There was no way Luciana Renaldi was going to let Reed Hargrave stand in the way of her dream, no matter what she felt, or thought she might feel. She was going to do something with her life. She was going to be somebody. Not a governess, shoved mercilessly in-between the staff and the family. She was going to get out of Yellow Brook, get out of Eastbourne, and she was going to enjoy herself.

She pushed away from the door and started off toward her room. She had packing to do if she wanted to restart her life—again.

“Oh, there you are. I was looking for you. Mrs. Peters said neither you or Esther came down for lunch.”

Jack. Darling, friendliest Jack. She might miss him the most.

Despite that, she continued walking. He fell into step beside her. “No, I didn’t go down. I wasn’t aware that Esther didn’t either, though.”

He caught her arm, forcing her to stop. “What’s going on? You look like you’ve been crying.”

Had she? Maybe. She touched her cheeks. They were warm, but not damp. “You’re mistaken.” She tried to pull her arm out of his hand, but he held tighter.

“Is something wrong?” He paused, held up a finger, frowned. “Did Reed say something? I know he can be a bit cold sometimes, but that’s probably just because he–”

Luciana tore her arm out of his grasp. She stumbled back a step with the force of her tug. “No, no. He didn’t say anything.”

Jack shrugged helplessly. “Then what is it?”

“I’ve quit.”

“Quit?”

“I’m no longer Esther’s governess.”

“But why?” He shook his head. Confusion plagued his face.

“I’m no good at it. It wasn’t working.” The memory of the morning and Esther’s speed reading brought a lump to Luciana’s throat. This was the right choice; she was sure of it.

She walked across the hall and reached the door to her room. Two and a half months of calling it her room. It was her room no longer. When she left, it would return to the shell it had once been.

“I’ll be sorry to see you go. You’ve been grand company.”

“And you’ve been a wonderful friend to me, Jack. You and
Signore
Hargrave both have been more than generous.” Her smile quivered. “He never needed to let me stay.”

“No, he didn’t.” Jack looked down the hall to the closed office door. “He didn’t want to. But things have changed now.”

Luciana reached for the doorknob. Nearly there, nearly free. “I should start my packing.”

“Righto.” Jack nodded stiffly, his nose wrinkling. “Will we see you at supper?”

She wanted to decline, but to do so would be ungracious. “Yes.”

“Until supper then.” He turned and walked straight for Reed’s office.

She watched him until he disappeared behind the door. “Until supper.”

Chapter 16

S
he’d lasted a week, long enough to impress Reed. He thought she wouldn’t last three days.

He stood at the window, hands clasped tightly behind his back. Fatigue threatened to consume him. His days were filled with business meetings, his evenings filled with Jack advising him on how to spend his money. His plate was full. Luciana quitting forced another issue onto his shoulders: finding a new governess for Esther.

He wasn’t surprised she had quit. After what he’d heard a week before, he was surprised she hadn’t quit that day. Once again, she proved to him her tough skin and determined spirit. Whatever it was she was searching for she would eventually find it. He was only sorry to see her go.

“I know plants and Italy. Nothing more.”

Her words ran circles in his head. Couldn’t she see how bright she was? Just the day before she had helped Peters fix the barouche wheel. And when they’d cooked beside one another in the kitchen… The mere memory brought back a flood of dizzying emotions.

Certainly, she was uneducated when it came to polite society. She didn’t understand a lady changed before supper time or certain pieces of silverware were used for certain courses. She tried her best, he knew, but managed to mess up somehow during supper, whether that be through using the wrong spoon or saying something a little too bluntly. And she was always so brash. For heaven’s sake, she had burst into his office twice now without bothering to knock.

Despite it all, she was bright, caring, beautiful. Reed ran his hand down his face. His heart belong to Katherine and Katherine alone. So why on earth was he still racking his brain for a reason to get Luciana to stay?

“I know plants and Italy. Nothing more.”

He snapped his fingers as he turned away from the window. “I’ve got it.”

From his chair before the desk, Jack looked up. When he spoke, the cigarette in his mouth bobbed. “What are you talking about?”

“I know a way to get her to stay.”

Jack leaned forward and turned his ear toward Reed. “Excuse me?”

“The conservatory. She told me, ‘I know plants and Italy. Nothing more.’ She’s been to the conservatory, hasn’t she?”