The Shipmaster's Daughter (9 page)

Despite his reservations, he found a sliver of himself hoping for her acceptance come the morning. He pushed those feelings aside and reached for his glass of gin. The taste was bitter and it burnt the back of his throat. The inky blackness of the sky outside reminded him that he should try to catch some sleep, but sleep had evaded him ever since Katherine’s death. He hated sleeping alone. He hated being alone.

A gentle buzz settled in the back of his head after he downed another glass. With a tired groan, he sat down in his chair and kicked his feet up onto the edge of his desk. He set his eyes on the rooftops of Eastbourne. Lights danced in windows and smoke curled from smokestacks. There had once been a day when Yellow Brook thrived, its doors always open, its halls always filled. He had enjoyed those days. Katherine had been alive and Esther was on the way. Everything was the way it should be.

But now. Now Reed had to be content with an empty house, a dead wife, and meddling friends. Not to mention an overactive child and Italian governess. No, Reed had never imagined his life like this.

“Father? I can’t sleep.”

Reed turned his head toward the door, his feet sliding off the desk. Esther stood in the doorway, her small hands curled around the doorknob. She was dressed in her nightgown, much too long for her, and her hair was in disarray. Reed beckoned her over. She grinned and scampered onto his lap. Her head settled underneath his chin.

“Did you have a good day today?” he asked.

Esther nodded. “Oh yes. Did you?”

He hesitated then found himself answering with full honesty. “Of course.”

“I think Miss Renaldi had a good time, too. She smiled a lot, didn’t she?”

The memory of Luciana’s smile—triggered by Jack dropping the contents of his ice cream cone—flooded into Reed’s mind. Her life had been filled with such sorrow since her arrival that her smile was startling. It was almost as if he was witnessing a secret.

“She did seem like she was enjoying herself.” He rubbed Esther’s shoulder.

“It was a good day,” she whispered, her voice small and sleepy. “The best day.”

Reed smiled when a few moments later her snores filled the room. She was a snorer, like her mother before her. He sat with her awhile, listening to her snores, feeling the gentle rise and fall of her chest against his. It struck him that she was growing; growing faster than he’d anticipated, and he was missing it. It seemed like just yesterday she had been born, screaming and screeching. Now she still screamed and screeched, but out of joy and excitement.

When the clock on the mantle struck one, he rose from his chair, walked down the hall, and around the corner. The nursery door hung open, poor Mrs. Peters fast asleep in a rocking chair beside the bed. Reed tucked Esther in her sheets and kissed her forehead before heading to his own room a few doors down. He tugged off his boots, dropped back against the bed, and fell asleep seconds after he blew out the candles.

The next morning was greeted with a raging headache and a shriek outside his door. Reed sat up, cradling his forehead. Apparently he’d drank more than he’d realized the night before. White spots swam before his eyes. He staggered as he rolled out of bed. His toes curled as they touched the cold wood floor.

“Miss Esther, please don’t hold it like that!
Argh!
Miss Esther!”

“But, Brigette, it really won’t hurt.”

The mingled sounds of his daughter’s imploring voice and Brigette’s screeching were too much for Reed and his poor head to bear. After buttoning his shirt and drawing his hair back into its usual low tie, he threw open his door. The words poised on his tongue failed at he took in the sight before him. Brigette stood pressed against the wall, hands covering her face. Esther held a rat up by its tail. The creature squeaked and grabbed at the air, wiggling and thrashing.

“Esther, what on earth are you doing?” he demanded.

Esther spun around on her heel, pushing the rat toward him. “Look at what I found. Isn’t he wonderful?”

Reed grimaced. “No. It’s disgusting and not something a young girl should be playing with, nor torturing the staff with. What has gotten into you?” He took a hold of her shoulder. “Apologize to Brigette and let the animal go.”

Esther’s lower lip puckered, but Reed was determined to win. He held her gaze and when he didn’t relent, she did, turning to Brigette. “I’m sorry, Brigette. Forgive me?”

Brigette sagged away from the wall. “‘Course, miss. I can…take that outside if you like, sir?” She worried her lower lip as she awaited his answer. When Reed nodded, her shoulders drooped and she hastened down the hall, holding the squirming rodent by its tail.

“Wasn’t that funny, Father?” Esther asked, turning her doe eyes to him.

“No, Esther. Far from it. You’ve been idle too long. It’s time you returned to your studies.”

She pouted. “But I hate studies.”

“All the more reason for you to return to them.” He guided her down the hall toward the staircase. “I’ve asked Miss Renaldi to consider becoming your governess.”

Esther stopped and sucked in a sharp breath. “You have?”

He held up his hand. “Don’t get your hopes up. She wasn’t exactly jumping to say yes when I asked her yesterday.”

“But she still might.”

He nodded and resumed walking toward the dining room. “She still might.”

As he neared the dining room, his heart began to beat faster. He seriously doubted she would accept. She wasn’t qualified, and he’d been rash to offer her the position in the first place. None of it made any sense and, like any responsible father, he should retract his offer. He cursed the part of himself that still hoped for her acceptance. It made his palms sweat and his throat dry. His hands twitched at his sides incessantly.

Esther bounded through the dining room door. She rushed to Luciana’s side, grabbing the arm of her chair. Luciana paused, the fork in her hand poised in midair. Across the table, Jack raised his eyebrows and lowered his spoon.

“Miss Renaldi, please say yes.” Esther folded her hands beneath her chin.

Luciana lowered her fork and shifted in her seat. Ignoring the way her gaze followed him as he crossed the floor, hard and unyielding, Reed made for his seat. For once, he was thankful for the grandiose arrangement of flowers in the center of the table. They partially obstructed Luciana from his view. With the wave of his hand, he got Peters to pour him a cup of coffee and shot of whiskey.

“Say yes?” Jack, like always, was the first to speak. “Say yes to what? Reed, have you proposed already?”

Reed’s guts twisted. He set his empty shot glass back on the table and pointed to it. Peters filled it again and Reed downed it, refusing to give Jack the satisfaction of an answer.

“Father asked Miss Renaldi to be my new governess,” Esther said. She bounced on her tiptoes, leaning closer to Luciana, who leaned back in her chair, away from his daughter, her eyes averted. No, this wasn’t a good idea. Not at all.

Jack curled his lips; Reed could see the restraint it took for him to hold back a smirk. “Did he? Well, what is your answer, Miss Renaldi?”

Luciana looked toward Reed. Her eyes implored his and she swallowed before looking briefly at Esther. A grimace flickered across her face. “Can I have more time?” she asked. Her voice wavered, but she held her shoulders straight.

Reed nodded. “Certainly, but I’d like an answer by the end of the day.” He pushed his fork around the rim of his plate. It let out a small, unpleasant squeak. “If you’re unable to take the position,” he continued, “I’m afraid you’ll have to be on your way.”

Luciana’s eyes widened. She went pale and her eyes fell to her plate. Her hand twisted the cloth napkin neatly laid out before her. After a moment, she looked up and nodded.

“You’ll have your answer before dinner,
signore
.”

Reed pursed his lips. “Good.” He nodded towards Esther’s chair. “Sit down, Esther, and eat your breakfast.”

The rest of the meal was consumed in uncomfortable silence.

After breakfast was cleared and Reed given liberty to leave his guests to their own devices, he asked Peters to fetch his coat. Though it was early summer and the sun often warmed Reed more than he liked, today promised to be a dreary one. And all the better for it. Dreary days were the most conducive to pleasant walks, so the gray sky and fog hanging over the ground did nothing to deter him.

When Peters brought him his coat, Reed shrugged it on and hurried outside. Loose gravel crunched beneath his boots as he walked towards the beach. How long had it been since he’d stepped foot there? Three weeks at least. Three long weeks filled with shipwrecks, illness, and seemingly-permanent visitors.

Today, he hoped to return to the way things were. He hoped for solitude, quiet, and the promise of no one—

“Mr. Hargrave!”

Reed curled his hand into a fist and stopped walking. He drew in a deep breath, tilting his head toward the sky for a brief moment before turning around on his heel. “Montgomery.”

A short, balding man, rapidly nearing the age of fifty, jogged toward Reed. His black hair—what was left of it—was greasy and parted down the middle, flapping in the wind. Red circles colored his fat cheeks. His labored breathing worried Reed. A man of his size should not attempt to jog.

“It’s been quite a while, Mr. Hargrave,” he managed between gasps of air.

“That it has.”

“You haven’t forgotten about your promise, have you?”

“Of course not,” Reed said, giving his head a firm shake. “I’ve simply been preoccupied. I assume you heard about the shipwreck a few weeks ago?”

Montgomery clucked his tongue, shaking his head. He held the lapel of his blazer with one hand and stuck the other behind his back. “It’s such a shame. I did hear you took in some of the castaways? You are such a generous man, Mr. Hargrave.”

“One of the castaways has remained here at Yellow Brook, yes. The others have moved on.” Reed paused. “Was there something you needed, Montgomery?”

Montgomery held up his pointer finger, chuckling. “Ah, yes, there was indeed. I was wondering if you might have a few moments to talk business?”

“You mean you want to talk about your firm proposal?”

Montgomery nodded. He wrung his hands before his over sized waist and shifted on his feet. Pebbles crunched underneath his worn shoes. “Yes, sir. You promised you would think it over…”

“And I have.”

Three months earlier Reed had met Montgomery on one of his few trips to London. The pair had struck up an unlikely conversation regarding Reed forming an investment firm. Montgomery seemed to think that, as Reed had substantial funds, he would do well as an investor.

It had been months since Reed sat down to talk business with anyone. He was sure Montgomery had a list of ideas and proposals for the firm. He could put it off no longer. Just as he instructed Esther to be responsible, he himself needed to put that into action. He shot a wistful look toward the beach. It would still be there in the evening.

He clapped Montgomery on the shoulder then and motioned toward the house. “There’s a chair in my office waiting for you.”

Talking business with Montgomery would be droll and painful, but it would take Reed’s mind off of the one thing he didn’t want to think of—Luciana’s answer. He hated the way it plagued his mind. Always his thoughts returned to what she would say. Why did he care? He shouldn’t. He should have sent her away the moment she returned to her normal health. She would have eventually found work in town or elsewhere. Why did he ever let her stay?

Shaking himself free of anymore thoughts of her, he practically pushed Montgomery toward the house. Business would be good today; business was welcome.

Chapter 10

L
uciana didn’t know what to do. The choice seemed simple, the answer clear. Either become Esther’s governess or leave Yellow Brook. She should abandon the comfort of her room and accept Reed’s offer posthaste. So why was the decision suddenly so hard?

She stood from her bed and crossed to the vanity, grabbing a loose sheet of paper from one of the drawers. Setting a pencil to paper, she drew a line down the center of the page. As a child, her mother had always made lists, lists of the good and the bad.