The Shipmaster's Daughter (13 page)

She cocked her head to the side and ignored his question. “The library is downstairs, sir.”

His throat tightened. “I know.”

If she suspected him of eavesdropping, she didn’t say anything, thank goodness. His hands twitched at his sides. He wanted to reassure her, tell her he knew she was doing her best, but he couldn’t without revealing he’d listened in. She would avoid him more than she already did were he to do that.

“I should return to Esther,” she said, throwing a glance down the hallway.

He nodded. “Yes, don’t let me keep you.”

She started off down the hall before stopping. She faced him again, worry etched across her face. “Esther is—She’s doing a fine job.” Her voice wavered. Never had Reed wanted so badly to offer someone a word of encouragement. His tongue felt like lead in his mouth.

“She has a good teacher, I’m sure,” was all he could manage, his voice barely a whisper.

Luciana bit her lip. Her eyes turned watery and she looked away, her hands fisting into the material of her dress. “You shouldn’t say that.”

Reed opened his mouth, but closed it when Esther came around the corner. Honestly, he was thankful she had shown up when she did. The hallway was becoming all-together too warm, too small. Words he didn’t dare say clawed at his chest, fighting for a way out. Reed could never tell the governess how he felt.
He
wasn’t even sure how he felt. He only knew he felt sorry for her. Sorry that her life had come to this when she should be flourishing in Italy. Sorry that she had to be cooped up in a drafty old house with a headstrong little girl and her cowardly father. She deserved better.

“Father!” Esther rushed forward when she saw him, throwing her arms around his waist.

Luciana held her hands together in front of her, her eyes focused on the floor. Reed patted Esther’s back and untangled himself from her grip. He barely looked at her his eyes were so glued to Luciana.

“I’m sorry to have disrupted you, Miss Renaldi.” She looked up, her eyes filled with something akin to longing. But longing for what? “It won’t happen again.”

He turned on his heel and escaped the congested hallway. One thing was for certain: He would dream of her longing, sorrow-filled eyes that night.

Chapter 14

“W
ould someone please tell me what is taking so long?” Reed stomped into the foyer, anger coursing through his veins.

He should have been on his way to Montgomery’s office hours ago. Jack was nowhere to be found, which didn’t come of a great surprise to Reed. But neither was Peters. Or anyone else for that matter. The house was eerily quiet. It made his skin break out in gooseflesh.

Reed glanced at his pocket-watch. There was almost no point in heading to Montgomery’s now. By the time he arrived, it would be time to return.

Sighing, Reed ran a hand down his face. He was tired, incredibly tired. Like he suspected, he’d dreamt of Luciana the night before. It was an innocent dream—one where they had merely walked along the shoreline, silent—but the fact that she invaded his thoughts during the day and now plagued him at night did not bode well.

Maybe he should rest. A good afternoon nap sounded like the perfect cure to his sour mood. That and a bowl of Mrs. Peters’s tomato soup. He would send a note to Montgomery to reschedule their appointment, have something to eat, and then rest.

And he would force himself not to think of Luciana once.

He walked down the hall toward the kitchen. As he drew closer and closer, his steps grew slow. Was his mind playing tricks on him or could he smell…pasta? He sniffed the air. No, he was certainly sound of mind. The scent of pasta and oregano tinged the air.

Mrs. Peters never cooked pasta.

He took the small flight of stairs that lead down into the kitchen two at a time. The scene that greeted him when he reached the bottom stole the air from his chest and caused his heart to skip one too many beats.

Luciana stood at the stove, a white apron wrapped around her waist, speaking to the entire house staff. She brandished a wooden spoon coated in red sauce and smiled. Mrs. Peters and the kitchen maids stared at their teacher in rapt attention, enthralled by whatever Luciana was teaching. Esther sat on the counter, her grin wide, and Jack leaned against the wall, biting into a piece of buttered bread.

“Oh, there you are, Reed.”

Reed startled. He had difficulty tearing his eyes away from the woman at the stove, but managed to do so in a way he hoped appeared natural. “I should be saying that to you, Jack. We were supposed to leave for Montgomery’s office an hour ago.”

Jack shrugged. “Yes, but then Miss Renaldi said she wanted to cook an Italian dinner. So I decided to watch.”

Reed’s eyes flitted back to the crowd. “As did everyone else.”

“She’s a very good teacher. I’ve learned a lot.”

Reed crossed his arms over his chest and stepped into the kitchen. He cleared his throat and Luciana’s voice stopped. It was as if the air was sucked out of the room. The staff lowered their heads and Luciana blushed. She set her spoon in the pan on the stove and swallowed hard.

“
Signore
Hargrave, I didn’t see you there.”

Realizing his body language must convey the wrong sort of emotion, Reed dropped his arms and loosened his shoulders. He rolled his lips together in a tight line then rested his hand on Esther’s shoulder.

“I was wondering where everyone had gotten to. Did no one think to tell me about this cooking lesson?” He glanced around the room, eyes narrowing as he saw the shaking heads. “You know I once had ambitions to become a chef.”

Esther frowned. “You told me you wanted to be a horse jockey when you were younger.”

Behind him, Jack snorted.

“Also true, but, my height unfortunately stole that dream from me.”

A dazzling smile spread across Luciana’s face. “
Un capocuoco?
You,
Signore
Hargrave? I do not believe it.”

Reed smirked and rolled up his sleeves. “Step aside, woman, and I’ll prove it.”

As she moved to the side and he stepped toward the stove, a brief thought of doubt alighted in his brain. What was he doing? He’d wanted to be a chef when he was eight years old and only for a matter of two weeks. All he knew how to cook was split pea soup.

Luciana, on the other hand, knew what she was doing in the kitchen. The sight and smell of the pasta sauce below his eyes was enough to tell him that. He was about to make an utter fool of himself. And why? Just because he’d dreamed of her the night before didn’t mean he needed to prove himself to her.

Even so, he was already standing at the stove and he could feel a dozen pairs of eyes on his back. He risked at glance at Luciana. She leaned against the counter, arms crossed, eyebrows quirked in amusement. He cleared his throat and picked up the wooden spoon. An uncomfortable silence lapsed as he stared into the sauce.

“What is it,
signore
?” Luciana whispered, leaning closer. He could smell her lavender soap. It tickled his nose in an alarmingly pleasant way. “Do you not know what you’re doing?”

He huffed and resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Not know what he was doing! What foolishness. Of course he knew what he was doing.

“I am cooking, Miss Renaldi,” he said, careful to keep his tone level.

“You’re staring into the saucepan.”

“I’m preparing myself.”

“Come off it, Hargrave!” Jack barked. “You don’t know how to cook!” He lobbed the butt of his bread roll across the room and hit Reed square in the back of the head.

Reed spun around, wooden spoon in hand, cheeks flushed. “Of course I know how to cook. Any good Englishman knows how to cook.”

Jack rolled his eyes. “Then I suppose I’m not a good Englishman.” He pointed between Reed and Luciana. “You just want to impress her, don’t you?”

The atmosphere of the room shifted from comfort to tension in mere seconds.

Reed curled his hand around the spoon. He could feel his heartbeat in his ears, his cheeks. Good Lord, he was mortified.

Because Jack was right.

He was trying to impress Luciana, wasn’t he? And he was doing a terrible job at it, too.

The spoon in his hand suddenly felt awkward and uncomfortable. Clearing his tight throat, he dropped it into the pan. Sauce splattered over the edge and landed on his waistcoat. Reed bit back a groan.

Luciana was staring at him again. Except this time, instead of sorrowful, she looked intrigued. Her pupils were round and her cheeks stained with blush, but she held his gaze. Reed opened his mouth to say something but nothing came out.

He felt the biggest fool. There was no reason he should be attempting to impress Luciana. No reason at all. Just because he’d dreamt of her, just because he’d heard the way Esther spoke to her the day before, none of that meant he should impress her.

What would Katherine think?

A headache broke out behind his eyes at the thought of his wife. He shouldn’t think of her. Especially when he was failing to impress another woman.

Still, there was something magnetic about Luciana. Every time he got around her, he felt somehow drawn to her. It was ridiculous. She was a guest in his home, a teacher for his daughter. That was all. She needn’t be anything else.

With a grunt, Reed shook himself from his thoughts. He lifted Esther from the counter and set her feet on the floor, keeping a firm grip on her hand. She protested, but he ignored her and faced his staff.

“Please, return to your work immediately.”

Jack stepped forward, his face a model of regret. “Reed, I’m sorry,” he started, his tone plaintive. “I didn’t–”

Reed shook his head. “Doesn’t matter.” Heart hammering in his chest, he forced his eyes to return to Luciana. He nodded stiffly. She lowered her eyes to her hands.

“Jack, if we leave now we might be able to attend that meeting.”

“You said it was scheduled for–”

“I know what I said!” Reed cursed his angry voice, but what could he do when he was humiliated and confused? He lowered his voice. “Maybe he’ll still meet with us.”

Jack glanced at Luciana, then nodded. He ambled from the room, hands deep in his pockets.

“
Signore
Hargrave, please don’t be angry with
Signore
Jack.”

Reed tightened his grip on Esther’s hand unconsciously. She cried out and wiggled her hand free, holding it against her chest. Reed’s cursed under his breath and crouched before her.

“I’m sorry, Esther,” he said. “That was an accident. Give me your hand.”

Her watery blue eyes stared back at him, unsure, before she extended her hand. He pressed a kiss to her palm and a grin lit her face.

“Better?”

She nodded.

Reed kept his eyes trained on Esther when he said, “I’m not cross with Jack, Miss Renaldi. I’m angry with myself.” His eyes flicked to her just in time to see her nod. “What possessed you to cook anyway?”

“
Signora
Peters was feeling ill. I offered to cook for her so she could rest.”

Reed didn’t know what to say, but he felt his heart skip a beat and all thought drain from his head. Without saying another word, he stood, took Esther’s hand again, and nodded to Luciana once more. Then he brushed out of the kitchen.

Esther wiggled her hand free of his grasp when they were far away from the kitchen and in the foyer. “Why did you stare at her like that?” she asked, hands on her hips.

Reed frowned. “I didn’t stare at her.”

“You did. Like this.” Esther’s eyes widened and her mouth opened in what looked like shock.

Heat crept up Reed’s neck. “Go play somewhere please. I have work to do.”

Esther shrugged and skipped away, humming to herself.

Had he stared at her? If he was being honest with himself, he would admit that he did. But he wasn’t being honest. There was no way he would accept just how much the idea of Luciana cooking for the house instead of Mrs. Peters affected him.

She was so…giving. So helping.

Reed shook himself free of the thoughts when Jack entered the foyer. He had better things, more important things to consider, than Luciana’s cooking.

Chapter 15

I
t had been one full week.

One full week since Luciana had been smothered by Reed’s commanding presence both in the hallway and the kitchen. She thought about those few moments more than she cared to admit, the man and his unwavering kindness. He always tried to play it off with a disinterested look or grunt, but she knew he cared. Why else would he have been eavesdropping? Why else would he have cooked beside her in the kitchen?

She hated that he cared. He
shouldn’t
care. They were two completely different people; nothing would ever happen between them. But when they were in the dimly lit hallway, alone, he had looked at her with such pity and such hope. It was an odd mixture, but every time Luciana remembered it, her heart fluttered.

Damn him! Damn him for making her care when she’d tried so hard not to. Damn him for making her care when she would only have to leave him.

In the week since the episode in the hallway, things between Luciana and Esther had only grown worse. At first, Luciana hoped that everything would mend itself. The first few days were stressful, yes, but that was because Esther wasn’t used to being in the schoolroom and Luciana wasn’t used to teaching. She thought things would be fine by the end of the week.

She had been wrong.

Esther was incorrigible. She disrespected Luciana whatever chance she could, parading about her knowledge and understanding of the most simple things. She left for lunch before she was supposed to. She ended her lessons before time was up. Luciana tried, she really did. But her voice could only grow so stern and her eyes could only become so demanding.

It was a new week, though. Throughout the weekend, Luciana had kept to herself. She recuperated and prepared and now she was ready for whatever Esther may try next. Determination filled her. She would not let herself be beat by an eight year old girl barely tall enough to reach her waist.

After a quiet breakfast, the pair returned to the schoolroom. Reed and Jack left earlier that morning, as they’d been doing for the past week or so. According to Jack, they were meeting with a man to discuss business. Good. Less time for Luciana to grow attached to the home and its owner.