The Shipmaster's Daughter (25 page)

The women glanced up. The taller woman with red hair turned to her friend and whispered something. The shorter, plumper one nodded. The taller woman looked back at Luciana and a wide smile took over her face.

“Actually, yes.”

Luciana walked around the side of the counter. “What do you need?”

“Could you pull the bolts of fabric down when we want to see them up closer?”

“Certainly. Which would you like first?”

The short girl pointed. “The pink one.”

She touched a bolt. “This one?”

“Yes.”

Luciana pulled down the bolt of pink, silk fabric and laid it on the table before her. She then stepped back and waited while the two women poked and prodded. They exchanged surreptitious glances before the tall girl pushed the fabric away.

“We’d like the blue one now. The one with the stripes, please.”

Luciana put the pink one away and withdrew the blue.

“Actually,” the tall girl started, jutting her hip out to the side, “can I ask you something?”

Her eyebrows rose. “Anything, miss.”

“Were you at the party at Yellow Brook a week or so ago?”

Luciana’s heart sputtered and then stopped. She coughed, pounding her fist against her chest until she felt her heart start again. The women stared at her with wide eyes and raised eyebrows.

How on earth could they know that?

“I—I was,
si
. Why?” Her voice shook like a leaf.

The short girl bit her lip. “Were you the one Reed Hargrave kissed in the middle of the ballroom?”

Heat poured into Luciana’s cheeks. She glanced at her hands twisted together before nodding. “
Si
, that was me.”

The two women giggled, relief flooding into their faces.

“Oh, good,” the short one said, clutching her hand against her chest. “I thought so, I just wasn’t sure.”

“Why do you want to know?” Luciana asked. She winced at how harsh her voice sounded. The women didn’t seem to notice, though, much to her relief.

“We never saw you again after that, either of you. We thought the two of you might have snuck off to…” She wiggled her eyebrows and Luciana felt her cheeks flush even more.

“No, no, no. No. That didn’t happen.”

“Why are you working here?”

She hesitated. “My circumstances...changed.”

The tall woman blinked. “Did he throw you out?”

Yes.
Luciana picked up the blue bolt and shoved it back onto the shelf. “Would you like to see something else?”

But the women would not let their curiosity be smashed.

“Was it Aliana Martin? Did she do something?” The short woman leaned in closer. “I remember hearing about her in the papers when he called off their engagement. She never got over it. But I saw her there are the party and then, like you, she was gone the next day.”

Had Reed kicked Aliana out, too? It seemed too good to be true. She certainly deserved it, but why would Reed kick her out when he believed her lies? Wouldn’t he want to keep her there? It would do no good to wonder. She was moving on.

“Luciana?” A light voice broke into her thoughts. She looked toward the workroom door. Sam waved her over.

Turning to the two women, Luciana excused herself and hurried across the floor. “Is everything all right?” she asked him.

He pulled her into the workroom, away from the listening ears. “Were they giving you a hard time?” he asked.

She shook her head. “Not really. They just had a lot of questions.”

“Personal questions?”

“Si.”

“Don’t discuss your personal life with customers,” he said. “I tell you this for your sake. I can see in your eyes a deep sadness. If people start prodding, don’t let them. I can’t bear to see you sad, child.”

Luciana smiled. “I’ll try to remember that. Do you think they’ve gone?”

Sam grinned. “Only one way to find out.”

Luciana peered around the workroom door. The shop was empty. She sighed and turned to Sam. “I don’t think they wanted to buy any fabric.” She grinned.

Sam shook his head. “No, no fabric, indeed.”

Chapter 27

A
week turned into two, and two turned into three. Luciana fell into a routine quickly and effortlessly. She woke at six, dined with Sam by six-thirty, wiped down the counters in the shop room, and opened the doors by eight. After closing at five, she swept the floor and washed the windows. Sometimes she ate with Sam in the workroom, other times she ate alone in the privacy of her own room. She went to bed early and repeated her process the next day.

It was hum-drum. It wasn’t exciting. But she was happy. Happy as she could be, anyway.

She thought of Reed on few occasions. Her time was so consumed with pulling bolts of fabric and taking measurements, evening hemming skirts, she didn’t have the opportunity to think of him. But when she did, it was in the dead of night when she was unable to fall asleep. She knew it would take time before all the hurt went away, but it would. Eventually. Of that she was sure. All she could do was hope she could chip away at the pain in her heart a little more each day.

On a rainy Wednesday afternoon, Sam sent her to the outdoor market. Business had been slow that morning and he needed to restock his home pantry. With several orders still to complete, he asked Luciana if she would be willing to go in his place. Despite the rain, she took his list and went. She may love Sam and her job, but fresh air always did a person well.

She opened her umbrella and started off. Puddles covered the road and wind whipped through the trees. She rushed across the street, water splashing onto her skirt as she did so. The outdoor market was two blocks away in the center of downtown’s park. She doubted it would be open. No one in their right mind would venture to the market in this weather. She continued walking, though, letting the fresh air and stinging rain wash away her troubles.

To her surprise, the market was open and bustling with people. Luciana had some trouble finding all she needed, but two hours later, she was on her way back to the shop. Soaked and chilled to the bone, when she saw the shop’s sign in the distance, she picked up her pace. She shivered as she shouldered open the door and shook the rain out of her hair.

“Ah, there she is, my little prodigy.”

Luciana pulled away the wet hair stuck to her cheek and stepped further into the shop. Sam bustled forward, taking two of the bags from her hands. He motioned to the woman standing at the counter.

“Luciana, this is my dear old friend—”

Luciana’s heart sunk to her stomach. “
Signora
Peters,” she breathed.

Mrs. Peters pursed her lips and raised her eyebrows. “My, my. When Sammy said he’d found a shop girl I never thought it would be you.”

Sam pointed back and forth between them. “You know each other from Yellow Brook, I take it?”

Luciana cleared her throat and forced herself to speak. “We’ve spoken several times, but not very often.”

“She was always busy with the child.” Mrs. Peters paused. Her mouth curled into a sneer. “Or the master.”

Moving toward the counter, Luciana set her bags down. She ignored Mrs. Peter’s implications and focused all of her attention on unbuttoning her coat. Her fingers shook.

“And how is Mr. Hargrave?” Sam asked.

Luciana shrugged off her coat and hung it on the rack. Her heart beat a mile a minute. Why was Mrs. Peters here? Just when she had made progress in forgetting them, Mrs. Peters, the woman who had disapproved of her more than Aliana, showed up.

“He is often away now,” she said, leaning her weight against the counter. “He started an investment firm and spends all of his time in London.”

Luciana’s hands slowed as she wiped the counter. London? Investment firm? He told her nothing about this.

“Esther has a new governess. She’s well over sixty but much more suitable than what we’ve had in the past.”

Luciana’s throat grew tight. Her neck went stiff. Mrs. Peters meant her. She turned around to clean the counter behind her.

“Jack Lipold has left, as well. He took off with some chit he met at the party. He was livid when he found out what had happened that night.”

She was going to throw up. Bracing her hands against the counter, Luciana ducked her head. She breathed deeply. In and out. In and out.

“The house is sadder than it was after Mrs. Hargrave died.” Mrs. Peters clucked her tongue. “And we all know whose fault that is.” Her voice was dripping with accusation.

Luciana hadn’t the strength to argue with Mrs. Peters. She knew her own innocence. That was all that mattered in the end. But hearing the way Aliana’s lies had torn apart the house made her want to crumble into a ball and weep. Esther didn’t deserve unhappiness and neither did Jack and Reed’s friendship deserve to be soiled. What had Aliana gotten from spreading her foul lies?

Nothing.

Luciana doubted she was even sorry. More than likely she was more sorry Reed wouldn’t marry her than she was for ruining their lives and their plans.

“Are you all right, Lucy?” Sam’s weathered hand touched her shoulder.

Luciana looked up. Mrs. Peters was gone. The shop was empty. She hadn’t heard the woman leave. And no one had called her Lucy since the day the
Charity
sank. She wanted to cry all the more.

Shaking her head, Luciana circled her arms around Sam’s neck. “No, Sam, I’m not all right.”

And for the first time since leaving Yellow Brook, Luciana let herself cry.

“Here, drink this.”

Luciana looked into the glass and sniffed. “What is it?”

“Brandy; cures every ailment and broken heart.” Sam sunk into his chair, crossing one leg over the other.

After crying until she could cry no more, Sam closed the shop and brought her back to his home. It was a small, one bedroom place, fit perfectly for an old man. Carpets covered the floors in the living room and kitchen. Old tin cups were nailed to the wall in an attempt to make the place look rustic. After some work, Sam had stoked a roaring fire in the hearth. Now, he sat with one hand on his knee, the other on his faithful dog, Moo-Moo. Both were old and tired, but Moo-Moo, named for her black and white fur, wagged her tail every time her name was said.

“Do you want to tell me now?” he asked.

Luciana took a tentative sip of the brandy. It burned the back of her throat as it went down and warmed her stomach. Not incredibly unpleasant. She took another sip.

She drew in a steady breath. “After my ship sank, the other survivors and I were taken to Yellow Brook. The other survivors got on their way when they were well enough. I stayed.” She scoffed, shaking her head. “Looking back, I was terrified to leave. My family had just died and I had nowhere to go. I would have gone back to Italy, but the only relatives I knew of had since passed away.

“Reed
—Signore
Hargrave offered me a position as Esther’s governess. I took it because I didn’t know what else to do. I had grown to like living in Yellow Brook and the idea of leaving still terrified me. It quickly became apparent that I was in no way suited to be teaching Esther. So, even though I think at that time I was beginning to care for Reed, I knew Esther deserved better and, frankly, so did I.”

“Is that when you left?”

She shook her head. “No, because then
Signore
Hargrave offered me the chance to tend to his conservatory. I’ve held a deep love for plants, ever since my mother taught me all she knew.”

“Seems like he was eager to make you stay.”

“He was, I suppose, and I was eager to stay, as well. We became friends, and though I didn’t accept it for a long time, I think I started loving him then.” She downed the last of her brandy and pushed the glass toward him, rasping, “More,
per favore
.”

Sam gave her a wary look but poured more of the liquid anyway. “Keep goin’,” he said.

“Everything was fine until Aliana showed up.” She sighed and tears flooded to her eyes again. “I really thought he loved me, Sam. But then he chose to believe those vicious lies Aliana spread and—” She cut herself short and downed her brandy, coughing as she did so.

“And?”

“And I had to leave.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “He made me leave.”

Sam slapped his kneecap. “Well, if he chose to believe those lies, he doesn’t deserve you. Move on, girl! Find someone new. Goodness knows Eastbourne is full of young men.”

“I will move on. I have moved on—nearly,” she said, surprised at the strength in her voice. “But I don’t need anyone else.”

Sam frowned. “And if someone were to sweep you off your feet?” At her confused look, he sighed. “If someone captured your heart again, what would you do?”

“That won’t happen. I won’t let it.” She pointed to her empty cup.

“No, you’ve drank enough.”

Luciana frowned. “Not hardly.”

“I can’t turn you into a drunkard, can I? Brandy may cure a broken heart for a short time, but when morning comes, you’ll be right back where you started.”

Luciana fell back into her chair, staring into the bright flames of the fire. She didn’t care if Sam was right. She wanted that brandy. It took away the raw ache in her chest for a few blessed moments and left her feeling like a normal person again.