The Shipmaster's Daughter (6 page)

“I think it’s beautiful.”

“Thank you. I hope Miss Renaldi likes it, too.”

Reed put his hand on her shoulder, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. “I don’t know why you find her so fascinating, Esther.” He almost added it was clear Luciana didn’t feel the same, but decided against it.

“Is it because she’s beautiful?” Jack asked, directing his question to Esther.

Reed clenched his jaw. “Jack–”

Esther held her hands against her chest, her smile wide enough to show the teeth missing in the back of her mouth. “Oh yes, so beautiful!”

“And is it because when she talks she sounds different?”

“She sounds like what I think Aphrodite would sound like. You know who she is right, Father? Aphrodite? She’s the goddess of love and beauty. Brigette taught me about her yesterday.”

“Miss Renaldi? A Greek goddess?” Jack repeated, his eyes wide in mock astoundment.

Esther nodded vigorously. “Uncle Jack, you’ll just love her once you meet her.” She hesitated before adding, “She’s quiet, but really a nice person once you get to–” Her words disappeared as she looked in the direction of the staircase. “There she is,” she breathed, tugging on Reed’s hand.

Sure enough, Luciana stood at the top of the stairs. Her eyes were fixed on a book and her hand gripped the railing tight as she made her way down. As always, she wore the same green gown, plain but elegant.

“Miss Renaldi,” Esther started. Luciana looked up, startled. When her face relaxed, her eyebrow arched. “Come meet my uncle.”

Luciana closed her book and held it in front of her like a barrier as she descended the rest of the stairs. She looked at Jack, Reed, then Esther. Her face was always the same—disinterested.

“This is my Uncle Jack Lipold,” Esther continued. She lowered her voice, hid her mouth with her hand, and stood on her tiptoes. “He’s not really my uncle, though. Just my father’s good friend.”

For the first time, a genuine smile crossed Luciana’s face. It was there for only a fleeting moment before it disappeared, but for a brief second, she was at ease.

Jack reached out and took her hand, pressing a kiss above her knuckles. Reed released a deep sigh and closed his eyes as he rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“Miss Renaldi, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance at last,” he drawled.

She titled her head to the side, evidently caught off guard by Jack’s words. “
Signore
Lipold, it’s nice to meet you.”

“I told you she was pretty,” Esther whispered, nudging him.

Jack kept his eyes firmly rooted on Luciana. “Yes, the
donna
is very
bella
.”

At that, Reed stepped in and grasped Jack’s shoulder. “You must stop before you embarrass yourself any further.” He turned his eyes to Luciana. “Was there something you needed?”

She drew in a sharp breath then released it. “I just came down to see if the mail had arrived.”

Reed checked his pocket watch. “Not for another hour, I don’t think.”

Her face fell. “Oh, well,
le mie scuse
if I disturbed you.”

Jack wrenched his shoulder out of Reed’s grasp, offering his arm to her. “Not at all, good lady. In fact, you’ve saved me from this hairy monster.”

Luciana laughed, much to Reed’s chagrin. She hooked her hand around Jack’s elbow. He started toward the staircase, but stopped at the sound of a knock on the door. Luciana dropped his arm like it was on fire, taking off toward the noise. Peters beat her to it and opened the door before she could. He spoke to the visitor for a brief moment then closed the door again.

“Miss Renaldi, a letter came for you, and for you, sir.”

He divvied out the letters, giving one to Luciana and three to Reed. She turned her back to the group as the empty envelope fluttered to the ground. Reed glanced over his letters. One from his mother, one from his office in town, and one from one of his tenants. The letter from town and his tenant could wait a few more days. Work could wait; it always did.

He handed the letter from his mother to Esther. “There might be a treat for you in there,” he said, sending her off to her room. She went without a fight. He was poised to lead Jack to his office when out of the corner of his eye he saw Luciana sag against the wall, her hand covering her mouth.

“Good news?” he asked. He hoped she would nod and that would be that. He didn’t like the way Jack was staring at her, enthralled and yearning. It would be best if he could lead his friend away before he said anything else more brainless and embarrassing than he already had.

Luciana’s eyes flicked up from her letter. “No.” The word came out as a croak. “My aunts, they’ve—they’ve passed away.”

“My dear woman, I am so sorry.” Jack touched his hand to his chest.

“That is…unfortunate,” Reed added.

She pulled her lips into a tight line. Tears perched on the edge of her eyelids, but she didn’t let them fall. Blotches of red covered her upper chest and neck as her breathing turned heavy. With shaking fingers, she folded her letter carefully. “I—You’ll have to excuse me.” Without waiting for a response, she swished past them.

Jack waited until she was out of earshot to voice thoughts that mirrored Reed’s own. “What are you going to do now?”

He rubbed a hand down his face. “I have no idea.”

Dinner that evening was unpleasant. At least, Reed felt it was. The only sound came from utensils clanging against plates and the air was clogged with unspoken words. Reed kept his eyes glued to the table. He tore through his food, barely pausing to taste it. To his right, Jack ate in much the same fashion. He only paused once in a while to level an inquisitive glance Miss Renaldi’s way. As for Luciana, she sat to Reed’s left and hardly touched anything laid before her. Try as she might to conceal her sadness, everyone in the room was clearly able to see the way she dabbed at her tears with her napkin and sniffed too often. Reed might be an unfeeling man, but he understood her emotion. He only hoped it didn’t drive her to stay any longer than necessary.

As if she knew his own thoughts, her next words worked to lay rest to his fears. “I want to assure you,
Signore
Hargrave, that this…setback won’t cause me to intrude upon your generosity any longer than it needs to.” She set aside her napkin, spreading her hands across her lap. “I will be gone as soon as I can find a job in town.”

Reed cleared his throat and put down his spoon. “Take whatever time you need.” He cursed the way his voice sounded, stilted and disingenuous. Why did he have to be so callous? She was without family, without a home, and all he could think of was the day she would be leaving. He hadn’t been like this when Katherine was alive.

“What do you plan on doing?”

Luciana turned her eyes to Jack at his question. “Whatever they’ll have me do. My English isn’t as good as it could be, so I’ll take something that requires as little talking as possible.”

“I think your English is wonderful,” Esther said. She offered Luciana a bright smile, and to Reed’s surprise, Luciana returned it with a smile of her own. It wasn’t as shining as his daughter’s; it was soft and quiet, but a smile nonetheless.

“
Grazie,
Esther.”

“Well, I’m sure that wherever you end up, you will make do just fine.”

At least Jack sounded sincere. Maybe Reed should take a page or two out of his book.

Luciana pushed her fork around the rim of her plate, the ghost of a smile drawing at the corners of her eyes. “Your confidence is encouraging,
Signore
Lipold.
Grazie
.”

Peters rung the bell behind them, signaling dinner completed. Reed drew in a low breath, relief easing the knots in his muscles. “Jack, would you like to play a game of cards?”

Jack crumbled his napkin into a wad. “As long as you let me win.”

Chapter 7

L
uciana felt the weight of all that had happened pressing upon her chest. She tried to slow her breathing, gain control, but nothing worked. Her heart felt like it was going to burst from her body. Her throat felt tight. Tears blurred her vision. Her hands fisted into her blankets as she screwed her eyes shut. She would not let her emotions win.

The news of her aunts’ passing had hit her harder than expected. She barely knew the two women, so why did it feel like she’d lost her family all over again? Maybe because now she truly was alone. With her parents and brothers dead, her aunts had been the only two people she had left in the world. And now they were gone, too.

Luciana thought she had cried every tear in her body earlier that afternoon, but apparently not. More sprang loose, running freely down her cheeks, spilling down her neck. She rubbed at her skin and choked on a harsh sob.

The world that had once felt so small now felt gigantic. Viareggio was her home; it had been for all of her life. She knew the twists of every street. She knew where the children collected to play after school. She knew where the old beggar woman found her wares and sold them. Italy was a part of her. It ran through the blood in her veins. But now it was gone. It was like a rug had been ripped out from underneath her feet. She was left on the ground, out of breath and out of sorts.

A raw, undiluted surge of anguish washed over her. She allowed herself to cry, throwing the fear of letting herself feel to the wind. She cried for her country, for the soil she would never feel beneath her feet. She cried for her mother, buried in the cemetery of San Marco. She cried for her father and brothers, hundreds of feet under water. But mostly, selfishly, she cried for herself. She cried until her throat was raw and her eyes burned.

Then she sat up. She wiped the tears from her eyes and walked to the vanity. Her skin was red and her eyes puffy around the edges. The back of her hair was mussed. She looked her part: a shipwrecked woman. But she was determined to play it no longer. She often talked with her father about the possibilities America would bring. She would be free to do as she pleased, create whatever life she wanted. He told her she would never be able to do it without the help of a husband. Luciana was hellbent on proving him wrong.

She would show him. She would show all of them.

The next morning, after a light breakfast, she sought out Jack Lipold. He was a charming man, handsome and friendly. Questions burned in the back of her mind. Questions which she wanted to know the answers to, and if anyone would be willing to answer them, it would be him.

She found him in the library, a room she had only visited once since her time of arriving at Yellow Brook. Massive windows on the far wall looked out onto the edge of Eastbourne. Rooftops and chimneys rose in the distance. A bright blue sky hung above the town, dotted with puffy white clouds. It was picturesque. The only thing that took away from such a picture was the state of the library.

The walls to Luciana’s left and right housed towering bookshelves, each filled to their maximum. In the middle of the room sat a faded green couch, several leather wingback chairs, and a table on which more books were stacked. A stained white sheet hung half-off, half-on the couch. The air smelled heavy with must. Luciana couldn’t help but chuckle as she dragged her finger across the edge of the bookcase. Her finger came away coated with two inches of dust.

Jack turned around at the sound of her laugh. He put the book in his hand down. “Miss Renaldi, how lovely to see you.”

“I thought I might find you here,” she said, stepping fully into the room.

He raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Why is that?”

“This seems to be one of the few furnished rooms.” She hesitated before adding, “And I asked
Signora
Peters if she knew where you were. I have some questions.”

He pulled the sheet off of the couch, sending a flurry dust into the air. He coughed, waving his hand wildly. When the dust and his coughing subsided, he motioned toward the couch. “Won’t you sit?”

Luciana sat, smoothing her hands over her dress. He crossed to a cabinet on the wall and withdrew a bottle of wine. He sniffed the wine, shrugged, and lifted it toward her. She shook her head. After pouring himself a glass, he sat beside her on the couch.