by Jessica Wolf
Twenty minutes later, Luciana obtained a bucket filled with warm, sudsy water and two rags. She was bent on washing some of the window panes while she still had the determination to do so. Jack offered to help, but she declined. The time alone would help her to think, process all of her options.
She started in the middle of the room. Rag pressed against the dirty window, she scrubbed hard. Dirt fell off in clumps onto the floor and stuck to the rag. She dipped it back into the bucket, wringing it out. A clear circle formed on the window where she washed. Through it, she could see out into the yard. Rain continued to pour, creating muddy puddles on the ground. She finished one pane and moved onto the next, working feverishly until her elbows began to throb.
Laughter filled the yard. She looked up from her bucket of dirty water. Esther stood in the rain, her head tilted toward the sky. She wore a pair of rubber boots that stretched up to her knees. The rain stained her blonde hair, turning it brown. It clung to the sides of her face. She shrieked and stamped her foot in a nearby puddle. Behind her, Brigette fisted her hands together, pressing them onto the sides of her face. Every time Esther jumped into another puddle, she winced, glancing over her shoulder toward the door.
Luciana tilted her head to the side. Esther reminded her of herself. What little she could remember of her childhood she had been as curious and vivacious as the young girl, if not more so. Maybe teaching Esther wouldn’t be as hard as she thought. It wouldn’t hurt to give it a try, right? She closed her eyes, sighing. She might fail miserably; she would fail miserably. But the idea of leaving Yellow Brook scared her. As much as she wanted to be, she knew she wasn’t ready to face the world on her own. Not in a world so different from Italy.
She would accept Reed’s offer come supper. All she had to do now was figure out how to thank him properly and prove to him she could take responsibility over his daughter.
Chapter 11
At long last, Peters rang the gong for supper. Reed wasn’t sure how he’d survived the day. Between waiting in suspense for Luciana’s answer and listening to Montgomery prattle, his brain might as well have leaked out of his ears. He was hungry and nervous, a combination that did not bode well for any man.
Rising from his chair, he cut Montgomery’s sentence short by sticking out his hand. “I’ll see what I can do,” he said, nodding once for finality.
Montgomery’s mouth fell open, stunned. He stood slowly, wiping his hands on his pants. His brows knit together in confusion. “Thank you for your time, sir.”
Reed walked him to the door of his office. “You’re welcome. Until next time.” He ushered Montgomery out the door and closed it before the man could say another word.
Below, the gong sounded again. He ran his hand over his face. His beard scratched his palm. Glancing toward the mirror over the fireplace, he narrowed his eyes. Jack was right when he said that Reed looked a fright. His beard wasn’t a heavy one, but it was enough. Most men nowadays shaved twice to ward off the dreaded shadow. And then there was the hair. Reed turned away from the mirror and poured himself a shot of whiskey.
Why were his hands shaking? Why was his stomach in his throat?
The whiskey set fire to his insides, spurring him out of the room and down the stairs. His footsteps echoed as he crossed the marble floor. Fingers twitching at his sides, he entered the dining room and took his seat at the head of the table.
Reed waved Peters over from the far corner. “Where are Miss Renaldi and Esther?”
“I’m sorry, sir, I don’t know.”
Tardiness on both their parts. Reed was already beginning to regret offering Luciana the position. He’d regretted the offer since he made it, but now it appeared he had good reason.
“Shall I have Mrs. Peters go and fetch them?” Peters continued.
“No, you shouldn’t take her away from her work. Send Brigette.”
Peters bowed stiffly. “Yes, sir.”
Several moments passed. Reed drummed his fingers on the table-top, staring at the open door. Jack, sitting in his usual spot to Reed’s right, rooted around in his pocket. He withdrew a silver case.
“Mind if I smoke?” he asked.
Reed shook his head. “As long as you put it out when Esther comes in.”
“Certainly.” Jack pulled out a cigarette, tapped both sides on the table, then stuck it in his mouth. He leaned over the table, using the nearest candle to light it. He sat back down. “Reed, you look awful.”
“Thank you.” Reed smiled—it was a tight-lipped, sarcastic smile; the only one he could muster these days.
“I mean it. You look sick. What’s troubling you?”
“I’m wondering where on earth my daughter is, that’s all.” And where Miss Renaldi is, too, but that’s none of my business.
“I think Brigette might have let her play in the rain earlier. She’s probably just washing up.”
Reed glanced out the window. The rain, once torrential, had settled into a light pitter-patter on the glass panes. It was soothing. Or it could have been soothing had he been able to focus on just that, instead of his missing daughter. It was irrational to be so worried. She was fine. She couldn’t be anywhere but in the house.
He looked toward the clock. Eight-seventeen. Seventeen minutes late. What could be taking so long? Just as he stood, intent on finding his daughter himself, she rushed into the room, Luciana trailing close behind.
Esther’s hair was wet. Water dripped onto the floor and stained the collar and shoulders of her dress. The dress, gray and dull, was crinkled and short, rising well above her ankles. She wore mismatched shoes, but a bright smile. Luciana’s hair was wet, as well; strands clung to her flushed cheeks. She had tied a portion of it back with a red ribbon, which looked as if it might fall out at any sudden movement. What really made Reed’s head buzz was her dress.
The dress was not her own. It was Katherine’s. Of that he was sure.
He would remember that dress anywhere. It was light yellow silk, almost cream, covered in crocheted lace and tulle. Black velvet ribbons adorned the end of the elbow-length arms and a belt of the same material extenuated her slim waist.
Katherine had worn it on their honeymoon. She had only worn it once that week and then never again, but it had left an impression on him all the same. He remembered lying there in bed, eyes closed, listening to the sound of her skirts swishing against the floor. He remembered the feel of the lace underneath his fingers. He remembered the aggravating number of buttons on the back. To see Luciana wearing his wife’s dress, it made his heart stop and his chest tighten.
He wasn’t sure what he felt: stunned, angry, enthralled. Maybe a bit of each.
“I’m sorry we’re late,” she said, smoothing the skirt as she sat in her chair. Reed noted, with some vexation, that Mrs. Peters had removed the flower arrangement from the center of the table. There was nothing blocking his view of her now.
At the other end of the table, Esther grinned. “I played in the rain and Miss Renaldi stepped in a bucket.”
Jack’s laugh was nothing short of a loud bark. Luciana blushed, lowering her eyes, but Reed could just see the hint of a smile on her lips.
“You stepped in a bucket?” he asked.
She looked up and this time he could see she really was smiling. It was a resigned smile, soft and simple. “I was cleaning some of the window panes in the conservatory. It was an accident.”
He frowned. “Why were you cleaning the windows of the conservatory?”
“They were dirty. I thought the room might be in need of some…spilling up.”
“Spiffing up,” Jack corrected her.
She nodded; her smile widened. “Si, spiffing up.”
“You didn’t need to do that,” Reed said.
“It was no trouble. But I did accidentally spill the bucket of dirty water on my dress while leaving. Esther was nice enough to loan this dress to me.” For the first time, he saw Luciana look at Esther with some form of tenderness. It was brief, but Luc
iana held Esther’s gaze for a moment and he could visibly see her eyes soften.
That still didn’t excuse the fact that Esther had gone rifling through Katherine’s room. She wasn’t allowed in there. No one was allowed in there. Not even him. And based upon the nervous look his daughter wore, she knew it, too.
He leaned back in his chair, leveling his eyes at Esther. He raised his eyebrows. “Was she? I wonder. Where did you find this dress, Esther?” Esther swallowed and gave a small shrug. “It wasn’t, per chance, in your mother’s room?”
Esther sucked her lower lip between her teeth and lowered her eyes to her plate. She shook her head slowly, throwing a glance his way.
“Really? Because it looks an awful lot like–”
“Reed,” Jack interrupted. “Let’s start dinner, yes? I’m famished.”
Reed kept his firm stare on Esther for a moment longer before waving the footmen and Peters forward. He would deal with her later. He was glad that Jack had stopped him when he had because both Luciana and Esther looked positively mortified.
“I didn’t know,” Luciana began. She barely spoke above a whisper. “Please, if you’d rather–”
“Of course you didn’t know,” Jack said. He declined the first course of savory cucumber soup and went onto the next—a selection of oysters. “It’s all right. No one has been hurt and everyone is well, so, please, someone say the blessing so I may eat.”
Reed grumbled through the Lord’s Prayer. When he finished, Jack and Esther dug into the food with gusto, both driven by hunger. Luciana dipped her spoon into the soup and tasted it. She pushed the bowl away and the second course was brought to her. Reed was barely able to stomach the soup; cucumbers had never been his favorite. But it was more than just a simple disliking of cucumbers. He couldn’t eat while she sat there, silent and still, wearing his wife’s dress. The hunger that once tore at his stomach receded.
“Signore Hargrave, I’ve given your offer a lot of thought.” Luciana curled her hands into fists beside the plate of oysters. He forced himself to look at her just as her eyes seemed reluctant to stay focused on his. The food in his throat seemed to stick. He gulped down his wine. “And I’ve decided to accept.”
Esther jumped out of her seat. She flung her arms around Luciana’s neck, squealing with delight. Reed let go of a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding. To his right, Jack lifted a glass of wine in Luciana’s direction.
“The right choice indeed,” he said.
Only after Esther had calmed and retaken her seat did Reed get the chance to speak. “That’s good news.” He cleared his throat. “You can start tomorrow?”
“Si, signore.”
“And you’ll continue to eat supper with the family, of course?” Jack asked.
Her eyes turned to Jack. A crease formed between her eyebrows. She nodded, though it was apparent she didn’t understand Jack’s implications. Reed did, though. It was improper for a governess to dine with her employer. It was improper for a governess to pay any attention to her employer at all, really. Governesses were to devote their every waking moment to their charges. But Reed understood Jack’s sentiments.
Luciana was foreign, an orphan, and unsure of her own capabilities. Hardly governess material. Reed offered her the position because he knew Esther was in need of both structure and a companion and Luciana was in need of somewhere to stay. He doubted she would stay for more than another month. She would have her fill of Esther’s imagination and long-winded conversations and the loneliness that came with the job. Before long she would leave for bigger and better things. And besides, society rarely knocked on Reed’s door anymore. Let the gossipers say what they wish if they ever got the chance. Who was he to care?
“Yes, good news,” he repeated, once more picking up his fork. “Brigette will show you the school room in the morning.”
“Yes, signore.”
Between bites of duck, Reed said, “I expect the best, Miss Renaldi. I won’t hesitate to terminate your position if my standards aren’t met.” Utter lies. Should she fail to meet his standards—and he was sure she would—he would never be able to resist her warm, brown eyes and olive skin. Which he was loathe to admit he’d begun noticing too much recently.
“I’ll do my best, signore. And grazie,” she said, punctuating her thanks with a grateful smile. “You’ve been so generous since I arrived.”
Reed shifted in his seat. “No thanks necessary.” She was wrong, really. He hadn’t been generous. At least, he hadn’t tried to be. He had no idea what he was doing. He was simply acting without thinking and he may end up paying for it down the road. She may come to resent his generosity.
“Oh, but truly–”
He closed his eyes, held up his fork, and paused. “No thanks necessary.” He spoke with a finality he hoped she understood.
“She and I are going to be best friends, Father,” Esther said. She looked at Luciana like the woman was made out of the brightest stars in the sky. Luciana stared at Esther with hesitation and worry.
Tomorrow might prove to be a long day for everyone.
Chapter 12
“And here is the schoolroom, miss.” Brigette swung the door open, revealing a dusty, unkempt space.
It was small and cramped, the ceiling low. Cobwebs hung in every corner. One circular window above a small bookshelf looked out onto the gravel drive. A gray, square table sat in the center of the room. A faded dark red rug lay beneath. Several inches of dust coated every surface and a rank, musty smell hung in the air.
Luciana shivered. “How long has it been like this?” She dragged her finger across the table and flicked the dust onto the floor.
Brigette shrugged. “Not sure, miss. Miss Esther has been out of her studies for a least a year now. The last governess couldn’t handle her.” Luciana drew a sharp breath, biting down on the inside of her cheek. Color stained Brigette’s cheeks and she waved her hands. “Not that you won’t be able to handle her, miss. You know what they say: a year older, a year wiser.”
Nodding, Luciana set her lips in a tight smile. “Grazie, Brigette. I’ll wake Esther in a few moments.”
Brigette bobbed a curtsy and left, leaving Luciana alone to her thoughts. She should have looked in on the room the previous evening. She would have done something to clean it up, even if it was only a little. A little preparation went a long way, her mother had always said. But with the opportunity missed, she at least wanted to get rid of the dreadful smell in the room. After finding herself unable to open the window, she resorted to wiping the dust off of the table with an old rag. When she moved to the top of the bookshelf, she brushed against a book.
Daniel Deronda by George Eliot. The title alone made her heart clench. Many years earlier, evening after evening, her father had made her and her brothers pour over the words of that book. It had taught her to love reading and it had taught her English, best of all. Looking back, she thought it a strange choice. Her father had always insisted it be Daniel Deronda that taught his children English. Nothing else.
Tears pricked the corners of her eyes and she sank into the nearest chair. She couldn’t remember his face anymore. She couldn’t remember either of her brother’s faces, nor that of her mother’s. If she willed herself to, she could sometimes catch a fleeting glimpse of her mother’s smile or hear her father say, “Perk up, Lulu.” But those memories were fragments of what she had once known so well. They were nothing next to what she once had.
And even though she missed them, she hated them. Would she go to hell for feeling that way? They had left her, hadn’t they? They had left her to die and gotten themselves killed in the process. Didn’t she have a right to hate them? She tried not to dwell on it too often. Those sort of thoughts only brought her rolling confusion and shame. She would forever be the unwanted shipmaster’s daughter, regardless of where she was. There was nothing she could do to change that.
Luciana stood and set the book back on the bookshelf. Today was a new day. She could
n’t face her first morning as governess with teary eyes. Swallowing her sadness, she woke and dressed Esther. They ate a small breakfast alone in the dining room and then headed to the schoolroom.
Esther pinched her nose upon entering. “It stinks.”
“I’ll see if Signora Peters knows how to open the window.” Luciana held her hands before her tightly. “Please, sit.”
Esther sat down. The tips of her shoes barely touched the floor. She swung her legs back and forth, her hands pressed underneath her legs. “What are we going to do first?”
Luciana had no idea. She realized then how out of her element she was. In all of the commotion, she hadn’t thought to ask anyone about her primary duties. Reed only said she was to watch over Esther throughout the day. That she could handle. Or, at least, she hoped she could. But what exactly did she teach? What did she do when she was done teaching? Her forehead broke out into a sweat and she cleared her throat.
“Signora Peters left these for us.” She motioned to a box on the bookshelf. “She said they might help us get started.”
“What’s in there?”
“Books, slates and chalk, more books.”
Esther slid out of her chair and went to the box. She opened the flaps and rifled through the box before looking at Luciana. “My last governess read to me from the Bible in the morning.”
Luciana smiled as some of the tension in her shoulders ebbed away. “I can do that.”
“Here.” Esther handed her a worn Bible from the bookshelf and returned to her seat.
Luciana sat across from her. “Is there anything you’d like me to read?”
“I like Psalms. They’re pretty.”
Luciana opened the book to the middle. She didn’t have extensive knowledge of the Bible, but she knew enough to be able to find her away around when she needed to. Her eyes scanned the page and fell onto a specific verse. “‘For thou hast delivered my soul from death: wilt not thou deliver my feet from falling, that I may walk before God in the light of the living?’ Psalms chapter fifty-six, verse thirteen.”