The Shipmaster's Daughter (7 page)

“What would you like to know?” he asked.

Luciana was surprised he was this willing to speak with her. Reed seemed intent on getting her out of the house as soon as possible. He kept his distance from her, and their few conversations during mealtimes were short. How could a man as kind as Jack be friends with one as coarse as Reed?

She didn’t know where to begin. She wanted to know everything: What happened to Reed’s wife? Why was he all alone in this massive house? How did Jack come across him? Really, she wanted to know everything she was too afraid to ask Reed himself. Having spent this much time in the house, wasting her hours by wandering through empty halls, she knew that if she left Yellow Brook with all her questions unanswered, they would burn in the back of her mind until her dying day. Her curiosity could not be quelled unless she had answers. But instead of diving headfirst into personal questions and risk scaring Jack away, she started with something more simple.

“Tell me about Eastbourne. What’s it like in town?”

Jack took a swig of his wine. “It’s been around since the Stone Ages, much like the rest of this country. It wasn’t until the Brighton and South Coast Railway brought the railroad here in the eighteen-hundreds that the town boomed, full of gentlemen and their ladies. The pier—what we’re famous for—was opened about twenty years later. It’s a nice town. Large, but quaint at the same time.”

Luciana looked over her shoulder out the window. It looked so far off, so unreachable. All she had to do was walk out the front door and she would be on her way to a completely new, exciting life. So why was she so scared?

She swallowed a wistful sigh. “It sounds lovely.”

“What’s home for you?” he asked, tilting his head to the side.

“Viareggio.”

Jack choked on his wine and sputtered. When he pulled his hand away from his mouth, he wore a smile, much to Luciana’s relief. “Excuse me?”

“Viareggio,” she repeated, smiling. “It’s on the coast, like Eastbourne. My father built ships.”

“Ships? Like passenger ships?”

She shook her head. “Mostly cargo, but a few passenger ships,
si
. He was excellent, one of the best in Italy. My brothers were looking to follow in his footsteps.” Her throat grew tight.

“And you? What did you do?”

“I wanted to please my father.” Luciana sighed. “After my mother died, he took to gambling and drinking and throwing all of his talent and money away. I did whatever I could to help him.”

“Didn’t your brothers help?”

With a short laugh, Luciana shook her head. “I came to ask you questions. How did you—how do you say it?—flip the tables on me?”

Jack smirked. “I think you mean ‘turn the tables.’”

Luciana snapped her fingers and a smile parted her lips. “
Si,
that.”

He shrugged. “I merely do what every good conversationalist does: ask questions, get people talking about themselves. People love to talk about themselves.” He held up his hands, crossing his legs. “That’s not why you came to me, though. What is it you’re dying to know? I doubt you really want to know about Eastbourne. You could have gone to town yourself in order to find out all that.”

She closed her eyes and let go of a deep breath. “I want to know about
Signore
Hargrave.” Heat filled her cheeks as the words rushed from her mouth.

Jack’s eyebrows raised. He nodded. “Don’t we all?”

“What are you saying? You don’t even know him?”

Jack scoffed, shoulders straightening. “Oh no, I know him better than any person on Earth. Save maybe his mother, but they rarely speak. If there’s something you want to know about Reed, I’m sure I have the information somewhere in my noggin.” At her puzzled look, he corrected himself. “My head.”

“I don’t want you to betray his trust by–”

He laughed. “I won’t. I’ve been sworn to secrecy over a few matters and I don’t intend on spilling those details anytime soon. But I’m always obliged to help a beautiful young woman who has a thirst for knowledge. What would you like to know?”

Luciana curled her hands in her lap, steadying her nervous breath with a cough. “What happened to
Signore
Hargrave’s wife? I’ve seen the portrait in the dining room, but neither Esther nor
Signore
Hargrave speak of her.”

“She died in childbirth. Quite a tragedy.”

“And the house? I would think a man with money would want to keep his house immaculate. This is–” Luciana glanced around the room, wrinkling her nose as unoffensive words failed her.

“This house is a wreck,” Jack supplied, nodding as though he understood. “Reed has always been a private man and he doesn’t really care what people think. Take his hair for example and make of the rest what you will.”

Laughter bubbled over Luciana’s lips. “It is very long for an Englishman, his hair,” she said. “My brother Piero had hair like his.”

Jack narrowed his eyes. “Why do you want to know all of this? Really.”

Luciana shrugged. “Curiosity.” But why indeed? Why did she care? She knew it ran deeper than her natural-born curiosity, but she told herself it couldn’t be because his generosity—as forced as it was—affected her. Because it didn’t.

Jack’s quiet, prodding voice tugged her from her thoughts. “You’ll be leaving soon, though? Which, I must add, is a shame.”

“That doesn’t mean I can’t ask questions.”

Jack chuckled, downing the last of his wine. He stood up and brushed his hands off on his pant legs. “Touché, woman, touché. As it has now struck noon, around this time we English break for tea and a bit of snack.”

“The English eat all the time, don’t they?” Luciana asked, rising from the couch. “Every time I turn around it’s always tea time or crumpet time.
Non capisco
.”

Jack smiled and shrugged his shoulders. “It’s what we do. Don’t tell me you aren’t hungry?”

“Hungry for more answers perhaps, and possibly a bit of food.”

“I’ll make you a deal, then. Dine with me and I’ll answer whatever questions you have afterwards.” He stuck out his hand, eyes twinkling.

Luciana readily shook it. She pointed to the door. “Lead the way,
Signore
.”

He offered her his arm. “After you, Miss Renaldi.”

Quite possibly for the first time since crashing on the shores of a new country, Luciana was at ease. Jack was a kind man, a good listener, and witty. She enjoyed his company more than anyone else she’d met in England thus far. And it was an added bonus that he answered her questions so frankly.

They walked arm-in-arm toward the staircase, laughing as Jack made comments on the old, weathered paintings hanging askew on the wall.

“Jack, there you are. I was just about to head down for some—Miss Renaldi.” Her name fell from Reed’s lips in a surprised breath. He stood a few feet away, one thumb pointed over his shoulder. He let his arm fall to his side, his eyes clamped on her.

“We were just talking about you,” Jack said. He shot Luciana a bright grin, but she felt her heart skip a beat. She expected Reed to lash out as she saw blush spider up the back of his neck. The only response he gave, though, was the slight inclination of his chin.

Then he tore his eyes away and righted himself.

“As I was saying, I was going to head down for some lunch. Would you care to join me?” His eyes slid to hers again, holding her gaze. “You’re welcome, too.”

She shook her head. Whatever small appetite she had was gone at the intensity of his stare. “I’m not hungry,
grazie
.”

He nodded, but Jack elbowed her. “Not hungry? It’s past noon. High time for some nourishment. And who better to eat with than two of the finest men in Eastbourne?” He paused, smirking as he stared at Reed. “Well, one of them at least. Besides, we were headed there anyway.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Luciana saw Reed’s back stiffen. He looked away, sniffing. No, she would rather not spend time with him. No matter how intriguing his story.

Gently, she laid her hand on Jack’s arm, offering him an apologetic smile. “Some other time. I really must find out when I can go to town.”

Jack held up a finger. “Did I forget to mention that Reed and I are going tomorrow? You could come along. In fact, we could bring Esther. Make a day of it.”

At first, the idea seemed repulsive. Reed did not care for her in the slightest, but Jack’s sincere smile and Reed’s groans of protests caused her to accept. Doing something out of spite might not be lady-like or even Christian, but Luciana hadn’t been to mass in years.

“I think I might enjoy that. It would give me a chance to ask about a job.”

Jack clapped his hands together; Reed grunted. “Wonderful! Eleven o’clock sharp, be at the front door.”

As she watched them walk away—Reed doing nothing to conceal his anger—Luciana couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit excited.

Chapter 8

T
he next morning, Luciana met the others at the front door as the clock chimed eleven. Her heart beat rapidly inside her chest at the thought that this very evening she might secure a working position. She could be one step closer to fulfilling her dream.

Reed rose out of his crouch before Esther, nodding to her as she passed.

“Good morning, Miss Renaldi.” Esther smiled, leaning against her father’s side.

Luciana managed to give the girl a small smile in return. “Good morning.”

“Ah, Miss Renaldi, there you are. Are we ready to leave?” Jack asked, rubbing his hands together.

“Could you clarify before we go”—Reed held up a finger.—“what the plan for today is? You haven’t told me anything, and you know how I don’t like to be kept in the dark about things.”

Luciana focused her eyes on his stern, chiseled profile. Why was she not surprised? And why did the sight of a muscle jumping in his clenched jaw make her stomach tumble? She looked away.

Jack smirked. “I know that full well, and for that very reason, I intend on telling you nothing.” He clapped Reed on the shoulder. “Live a little, be spontaneous.”

“If I recall correctly, your definition of spontaneous is running off to France after having your engagement called off for the second time.”

A dark look crossed Jack’s face and his hand slipped away from Reed’s shoulder. “Callous. That was callous, Hargrave.” Glancing at Luciana, he threw on his trademark grin and extended his hand to Esther. “Now that we’re all here, why don’t we head out?” Without giving Reed or Luciana time to blink, he threw open the front door and stepped into the sunshine, Esther in tow.

Reed flourished his hand toward the door. Gravel crunched beneath Luciana’s feet as she stepped onto the approach. The air was damp and cool, and a slight breeze blew against the unkempt flowerbeds in the center of the drive. She tilted her head back toward the hazy sun. Her nostrils flared at the scent of salt and seaweed. She breathed deeply, relishing the feel of the outdoors. The last time she was outside, she had been standing on the deck of the
Charity
, fire raining down around her. And she had been—

“Miss Renaldi?” Reed’s voice, oddly soft, broke through her memories.

She shook her head and dropped her face from the sun. There was no use reminiscing now. That life was gone.

As her eyes adjusted to the light, she took in the elaborate carriage before her. It wasn’t like any carriage she’d ever seen before. In fact, she wasn’t entirely sure it was a carriage. Four bright yellow wheels rested under a black oblong base. Instead of a roof, a collapsible hood had been pulled down, filling the space with fresh sunlight and cool air. Peters sat on a bench slightly above the base while, inside, Esther sat facing Jack. Two magnificent bay horses were attached to the front, their manes blowing in the wind.

“What is that?” Luciana asked, her voice breathy. She cleared her throat.

Beside her, Reed chuckled. “It’s a barouche.”

She nodded like she understood, though the hefty word only confused her all the more.

Esther leaned her head against the side of the contraption. “Isn’t it wonderful? Father got it specially made in London.”

Luciana had heard of London before, but she was unsure of the significance. The gleam of pride in Esther’s eyes told her having a barouche made in London was something to be especially proud of. She just nodded and stepped inside, taking her seat beside Jack, and focused her eyes on the distant rooftops of Eastbourne.

The barouche rattled to a start, and the sun warmed her frigid skin. It felt good to be outside again. She’d forgotten how much she’d missed the outdoors.

As they drew closer to town, her head filled to the brim with thoughts and plans. Her surroundings began to disappear as her heart rate quickened. What would Eastbourne be like? Would she be able to find work?

“Where would you like to stop first, Miss Renaldi?”

Luciana blinked. She’d been so lost in her worries she forgot where she was. She furrowed her brow. “Excuse me?”

Jack stared at her with questioning eyes. “On your job hunt? Where would you like to stop first?”

Her eyes flitted between Jack and Reed before resting on Jack. “I thought you had your own plans for the day?”