The Shipmaster's Daughter

by Jessica Wolf

  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.

  Mrs. Peters’s appearance at the shop had thrown her for a loop. The news of Jack’s departure, Reed’s new firm in London, and Esther’s governess was too much to handle. Knowing such things made her want to go back and fix it all. That is, if she could fix it. She would have no idea where to begin and Reed would never consider for a second opening the door to her. Even so, Yellow Brook had been her home. Hearing that it was once again falling to pieces made her heart hurt all the more.

  “Oh, Sam, maybe I shouldn’t have come here,” she whispered. “Maybe I should have left Eastbourne.�
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  Sam scoffed. “What? And let him win? No. No, you did the right thing by staying here. You’ve got to show him—show all of them—they can’t get under your skin.”

  She didn’t say anything. There wasn’t anything left to say. Like always when it came to Reed, she was conflicted. She wanted to move on, more than anything, but something told her there would always be a part of her that belonged to him. He treated her kindly when he had no need to; he had given her a home and shown her love.

  But there was nothing she could do to change the past. She must accept it and move on.

  Sighing, Luciana ran her hand down her face. When she stood, she wobbled. “I think I should go to bed.” She clutched the back of the chair to keep from falling.

  “I don’t think you should walk home, Lucy,” Sam said, rising from his seat. “Not in that state.”

  “I’m not drunk.”

  Sam laughed. “Brandy is strong stuff, girl. I’d say you’re nearly drunk if not completely drunk.” He took her elbow. “Come, you can sleep in my room. I’ll sleep in my chair out here.”

  Luciana pulled her arm out of his grasp and shook her head. “I couldn’t take your bed. I’ll make it home fine.” She stumbled toward the door.

  How much brandy did she drink? No more than two glasses, but those glasses had been quite full. Her head was a little fuzzy and her limbs felt sluggish, but she was sure she could make it to the shop all right.

  “You won’t make it home in one piece if you try,” Sam said.

  Luciana grasped the door-knob and faced her friend. “I appreciate your words of encouragement,” she said dryly. He snorted. “But I will make it back just fine. I’m not drunk.”

  He wagged his finger at her, but smiled. “Oh, but you are. And when your face is in the newspapers come morning it won’t be my fault.”

  Luciana opened the door with a flourish. While Sam might be right and staying might be safer, she wanted her own bed, as uncomfortable as it was. She wanted to be alone with her thoughts and wallow in self-pity for one night more before picking herself up again. Besides, she could make it. She could see the shop sign from the doorway.

  “Sam, I am leaving you for the comforts of my own room, but grazie for your generosity.”

  “I expect you to be fighting fit tomorrow morning, you hear? I’ll have no whinin’ or complain’ if you drink yourself into oblivion. That’s of your own doing and I don’t want to hear about your heading hurting after I warned you.”

  Luciana mimed locking her mouth shut. “No more drink, te lo prometto.”

  He shuffled to the doorway. “Good. Now get out. I’ll watch until you wave from the doorway.”

  She kissed his wrinkled old cheek and stepped onto the street. She made it to the doorstep of the shop after only stumbling twice. As promised, she waved to Sam when she got there, unlocked the door, and stepped inside. She relocked the knob and took the stairs two at a time before collapsing into bed.

  She had told Sam her reason behind leaving Yellow Brook now. There was nothing left to do but forget the house and its inhabitants. She had Sam and her job and she was happy. And if Reed walked through the front door tomorrow, asking her to return, she doubted she would, even if he begged.

  Luciana Renaldi deserved someone who trusted and believed her word. And whoever said she needed to feel romantically inclined toward such a person? She found Sam, hadn’t she? She trusted him and he her and he believed her every word. Yes, she would be all right. She had everything she needed.

  Sighing contentedly, Luciana soon fell into a peaceful sleep.

  Chapter 28

  London air was filthy. It stunk of refuse and smoke and nothing fresh. Still, Reed breathed deeply, filling his lungs with the foul stuff.

  He glanced upwards and his chest expanded with pride. There, on a blue sign above the door were the words “Hargrave Investment.” Having only been open three weeks, Reed had yet to pick up any serious business, but he knew that with time and effort he could do it. Of course, putting in the right amount of effort meant he was rarely at home these days. He hadn’t been back in two full weeks. But that was a price he was willing to pay. It wouldn’t be forever.

  And time away from home would do him some good. Yellow Brook was filled to the brim with too many painful memories. He could hardly stand it.

  Pushing open the door, he stepped into the office building. It consisted of one large room and two smaller offices, one of which Reed claimed as his own. With the help of Wilkins and Harper, he was able to rent the building and its few amenities. His primary concern was finding a partner. He knew he couldn’t do this alone, especially with his limited knowledge on finances. He simply had the money and determination, now he needed someone with the brains willing to help and teach him.

  Jack was out of the question. He’d left the morning after the party when Reed was forced to tell him the truth about Luciana’s deception. Jack was beyond flabbergasted. He couldn’t bring himself to believe she would ever say such things, but Reed reassured him that, yes, she had lied to them all. Jack had never been one to handle disappointment well. He and Reed were alike that way. More than likely he’d gone to the continent for more frivolous spending.

  Reed sat in his chair and withdrew a sheet of paper from the desk drawer. On the paper was a list of names both Wilkins and Harper claimed would be fit for the job as Reed’s assistant. It was up to him, though, to contact and convince them. He had located the address of a Mr. Rodger Cooper when he heard the front door open.

  “Hello?” came a muffled voice. “Anybody here?”

  Reed skirted around his desk and opened the door to his office. He kept his eyes glued to the piece of paper bearing the address of Mr. Cooper. “How can I help you, sir?” he asked.

  “Actually, this is about how I can help you.”

  Reed looked toward the door and barked out his laughter. “Jack Lipold, you damn scoundrel!”

  Jack had the decency to blush. He wrung his hands on the rim of his hat, shifting from foot to foot. “Reed,” he said, his voice curt and low.

  “Well, come in, come in. Sit down.” Reed plopped in his own chair, motioning to the one before him. “Where on earth have you been? I tried to contact you.”

  Jack sat, his movements hesitant. “I figured as much.”

  “Would you like something to drink?”

  “No, but thank you.”

  “You were the last person I expected to see walking through that door, but I am relieved it was you.”

  “Business booming yet?”

  Reed snorted. “I’ve been open three weeks, Lipold.”

  “Oh, right, right.” Jack glanced over his shoulder and wrinkled his nose.

  “What’s wrong, Jack? You seem agitated.”

  “I came by to explain things,” Jack said, lowering his eyes to the floor. “I acted like a real fool when you told me about—about what Luciana did.”

  Reed leaned back in his chair. It creaked under his weight. “You did run away with that girl without saying goodbye.”

  Jack smiled ruefully. “Marybella.”

  “You want to tell me why you left in such a hurry?”

  He nodded. “I guess I took it as a shock. She was so—so—”

  “Kind?”

  Jack snapped his fingers. “Yes, kind. She was so kind I never thought she would be capable of saying such horrid things. I guess we’re lucky Aliana was around to hear it all.”

  “Luciana denied it, you know. She denied having ever said any of it. She said Aliana made it all up.”

  “But Aliana wouldn’t do a thing like that either.”

  Reed shrugged. “I’m not so sure. She would have reason to want Luciana out of the way. She wanted to marry me, for God’s sake.” He hesitated. “Do you think I could have been wrong?”

  “No.” Jack shook his head. “You weren’t wrong. We’ve known Aliana Martin longer than we’ve known Luciana Renaldi. And how much did we really know about Luciana? She n
ever said much about herself. For all we know she could have been faking her Italian accent.”

  Reed looked away, biting on his knuckle in thought. Over the past few weeks, his stomach had been in knots. He hadn’t been in his right mind when he sent Luciana away. Then all he could see was red. But now the fog had cleared and he could see what she tried to tell him. Aliana easily could have made the whole story up just to finagle her way back into his life and get Luciana out of the picture. Day after day that seemed much more plausible than Aliana’s claims.

  But there was nothing he could do about it now. Aliana was gone. He had asked her leave the day after the party. He would never marry her and he made sure to make himself clear this time. Luciana was gone, too. Though he knew she was still in Eastbourne, even if he apologized for letting his knack for jumping to conclusions get the better of him, she would never take him back.

  “You always jump to conclusions about everybody.”

  Her words rang clear in his ears. He was no longer fixated on the fact that she had called him a beast. He might try to hide it under good intentions and handouts to his clients, but, deep down, he thought he knew everyone before truly knowing them. He had jumped to conclusions about her on more than one occasion. And he’d lost her for it.

  “Well, despite what the truth is,” Reed said, “what’s done is done.”

  “Let bygones be bygones, as they say.”

  Reed sighed. He’d made a royal mess of things. Him and his stubborn pride. He shook his head, tossing the regret away. Like he’d said, what was done was done. Luciana was gone and he had his firm in London. He would have no reason for seeing her again unless he bumped into her in Eastbourne and he doubted he would be traveling there anytime soon. Time healed all wounds and regrets. So instead of wasting his thoughts on what could of been, he would focus on what he could control: his firm and his bank account.

  “Where were you anyway?” he asked.

  Jack smirked. “Eastbourne.”

  “Eastbourne?”

  “I holed myself up in Marybella’s cottage.”