The Shipmaster's Daughter (22 page)

“Father! Over here, Father! Miss Renaldi, come look at me!”

Reed and Luciana looked to the left to see Esther standing on a chair, parading her new dress. Green and beaded extensively, the thing had cost Reed a small fortune. Still, Esther glowed with pride and happiness and it made him happy to see her joy. She was his only family—his only
true
family. She deserved a little spoiling here and there.

He let go of Luciana’s arm and extended his hands to Esther. She jumped from the chair and rushed into his embrace. “My, my, you look marvelous, Esther,” he said as he held her at length.

“Don’t I?” She giggled and twirled in a circle. Her eyes fell onto Luciana and she gasped. “Miss Renaldi, you look pretty too.” She reached out to finger the lace on Luciana’s dress, her mouth forming an
O
.

Luciana smiled and squeezed Esther’s hand. “
Grazie,
Esther.”

“Are you going to dance, Father?” Esther asked.

Reed stood straight and risked glancing at Luciana. Her head was turned the other way, eyes roaming the dance floor. No, there would be no dancing this evening.

“I have business to attend to.” A pregnant pause filled the space between them. “And speaking of business, Miss Renaldi, I’m afraid I must take my leave.”

Luciana looked away from the spinning skirts and stepping feet. There was an unmistakeable longing in her eyes. A longing for what he wasn’t sure, but a longing all the same. He shook off her stare. Reed couldn’t let that steer him away from the task at hand: meeting with and convincing the advisors he was a worthy venture.

“I’ll stay with Esther.” Luciana smiled, though it was weary, and took Esther’s hand again. “I hope your meeting goes well,
signore
.”

He stiffened. She hadn’t called him sir in a long time. The formality made his heart clench. He knew he should set aside his own petty hurt and mend things between them. He loved her, after all. But Reed was a stubborn man. He wouldn’t be the one to crack first.

“Make sure you enjoy yourself. Don’t let her keep you all evening.”

She said nothing in response and let Esther drag her toward the dancing crowd. They stood on the edge of the onlookers, hand in hand, watching every move. Reed swallowed and flexed his fingers. He had work to do.

He located the three advisors near the table filled with an assortment of different alcohols. His heart begin to beat a little faster and his palms grew a little warmer. He picked up a glass of wine and took a deep breath.

“Gentlemen.”

The advisors turned their heads. One of them, the shortest and the fattest, broke into a grin. “Ah, Mr. Reed Hargrave, the man of the hour.” He stuck out his chubby hand. “Calvin Harper, pleased to meet you.”

“Thank you coming, Mr. Harper, and on such short notice, too.”

Harper waved and scoffed. “I knew your uncle. He and I were good friends. I’m always happy to help someone in the Hargave family.”

A man taller and skinner than Reed finished downing his glass of champagne. “Spencer Wilkins.” He shook Reed’s hand. “You have a wonderful home.”

“Thank you, sir,” Reed said with a glance around the room. “It didn’t look like this a month ago, that’s for certain.”

The third man, nondescript besides his impressively large nose, kept his mouth straight. “I’m Wallace Green.”

Reed nodded to him. “Sir.”

“I’m sure you’d like to start talking business then,” Wilkins said as he grabbed another glass.

“Certainly, sir, but I don’t want to take away from your evening.”

Green huffed. “We came to talk business, Hargrave, not dance.”

“Of course.” Reed cleared his throat and downed his glass of wine, only to reach for another.

“Well?”

Reed curled his fingers around the stem of his glass. He was botching this already and they hadn’t even begun. “As my letter stated, I’m interested in opening an investment firm. You’re some of the best men in the business, so I’m looking for advice.”

“We’d be happy to give it,” Harper said. “Won’t we?” He nudged Wilkins with his elbow.

The unexpected nudge caused Wilkins to choke on the champagne in his mouth. His face turned bright red and he thumped his chest, coughing. “Most certainly,” Wilkins said when he’d recovered, his voice hoarse. “What is it you want to know?”

“Most importantly, I’d like to know if starting a firm would prove to be beneficial.” He paused when the three advisors frowned. “I have daughter and many tenants to consider. I don’t want to venture into something that will—”

Wilkins held up his hand. Reed shut his mouth. An uncomfortable heat crawled up the back of his neck. “Hold on a moment.” Wilkins fixed his eyes on something over Reed’s shoulder. The frown no longer marred his skinny, haggard face.

Green and Harper followed his gaze, and they, too, seemed transfixed by something behind him. Reed frowned, irritation bubbling under his skin. If they tried to ask him what advice he wanted, he would be lost as his thoughts were now muddled with confusion. He would only achieve embarrassing himself more than he already had. He resisted the urge to growl.

He wasn’t a beast. He wasn’t a beast.

“Who is that exquisite creature?” Wilkins asked. His voice was astonished, his eyes rounder than they were a mere moment before.

With a frustrated sigh, Reed looked over his shoulder, expecting to see Aliana parading herself through the hordes of people. What he saw instead brought him to tears.

Esther stood in the center of the ballroom, her hands clutching Luciana’s. Together, the two girls danced the waltz. It was a clumsy waltz. Esther was too short to put her hand on Luciana’s shoulder so she held both her partner’s hands, her stare intent on watching her feet. Luciana would stumble every now and then, but throw her head back and laugh, unaffected. They weren’t even dancing to the beat of the music. They seemed oblivious to the world around them. The world around them, though, could not take its eyes away. Every head in the room turned and all eyes were fixed upon the dancing girl and her used-to-be governess. Even the other dancers had slowed, their own waltzes turning messy as they strained to watch the pair.

Reed cleared his throat. Good Lord, they were beautiful.

He glanced to the advisors and then back to the dance floor. “Excuse me, gentlemen,” was all he said before his feet took him in their direction.

When he reached them, he tapped Esther’s shoulder. The pair stilled. Esther looked to him and smiled. She dropped Luciana’s hands. Luciana paled, seeming to remember that she was in a room full of people. She looked around. Her eyes glistened with tears.

“Have you come to dance, Father?”

“If I might, may I have the next dance?” He extended his hand to Luciana. It trembled.

Her eyes darted back to him. “But I thought—” she started.

He knew what she would say.
I thought you were angry with me.
And he was, if only a little. At the moment, he didn’t care. She was stunningly beautiful and out of place. Like him.

“Will you dance with me, Luciana?” he asked again, his voice deeper than expected. His hand still trembled in the air.

To his great relief, she slipped her hand into his. “I’d be delighted, Reed.”

Chapter 24

I
f ever a man felt like he was floating, that man was Reed. It was a silly thought: a man floating. Weren’t feelings of airiness left to women? There was no denying, though, that Reed felt like he was walking on air.

Luciana’s hand fit perfectly in his and he held her close as they spun. He grew warm and light headed, but he didn’t care. Here she was, in his arms, for the whole of Eastbourne to see. It felt right. Unexpected, but right.

They said nothing. There was nothing to say. There was only the music, the feeling of her in his arms, and bliss. They moved along the floor like the most skilled of partners. She was relaxed and poised and graceful. Her feet never stumbled.

He came to a short stop. The music around them continued, swirling about his head and his ears. The room was loud—a mixture of beautiful notes and stepping feet—and his entire body reverberated the beat. The dancers didn’t pause like they had before. They merely picked up the pace as the music moved in to another song.

“Luciana,” he whispered.

A crinkle appeared between her eyebrows. “Yes?”

“I want you to know that—” The words stuck in his throat.

“Is everything all right, Reed?” She laid her fingers on his chest. He could feel the warmth burn through his jacket and onto his skin.

With that simple touch and those concerned eyes, he threw caution to the wind. Placing a hand behind her slender neck, he cupped her cheek and stooped to press his lips to hers. She reacted with no surprise, only melded in the kiss with ease. She gripped his arms like a parched man might grasp a glass of water. He held her a little closer, a little tighter, if only to savor the moment as long as he could.

She kissed him with a gentleness that battled Reed’s urgency. He couldn’t get enough. She tasted of wine and her lips were soft, save for a tiny cut on her upper lip he continuously brushed against. Upon realizing that he was kissing her in front of everyone, he pushed himself away, but not before pressing his lips to hers one last time.

Her eyelids remained hooded and her lips parted. She blinked and let go of a sigh. “I—don’t know—” She shook her head, sucking in a deep breath.

He removed his hands from her skin, curling his fingers into fists before flexing them. “That was untoward. I’m sorry.”

“But not unwelcome.” She grinned and titled her head to the side, reaching for him again.

What he wouldn’t give to kiss her again. But he couldn’t, not with eyes watching and his heart hammering so hard in his chest he thought he might keel over. He had to think.

He needed to think.

If he gave his heart over to her, what was he risking? Everything.

Everything.

And what about what she had said, what she had called him? Didn’t that matter?

He took a step back, but kept his grip on her fingers firm. “I need some air.”

She nodded slowly. “Do you want me to—”

“No!” His voice rose above a whisper and his heart skipped one too many beats. He had just kissed her in the middle of the ballroom. That alone would keep the gossip columns talking for weeks. If he allowed her to follow him into the hallway, the newspapers would never stop. He didn’t care how out of place Luciana was in Eastbourne. He wouldn’t sully her like that. Nor himself.

And besides, he thought better alone.

Compared to the time he had almost kissed her and pulled away, when her feelings were masked, the hurt splayed across her face was stark and clear. He told himself not to be swayed.

Lowering his voice, he repeated himself. “No, please. I’d like to be alone.”

Swallowing, she stepped away and nodded her head. He let go of her hand, tried to give her as reassuring of a look as he could, and then turned. Reed more or less shoved his way through the crowd into the fresh air of the rotunda. To his right, a hallway led past the library and curved to the left toward the conservatory. He took to the library doorway, pressing himself against the cool wood, hoping against hope that the darkness of the hallway concealed him.

His head was a mess of conflicted thoughts. He was consumed with love for her, for Luciana. More than anything he wanted to make her his wife. He hands stilled at his sides. Marriage? He was jumping to marriage already? He didn’t even know if Luciana reciprocated his feelings. Oh, he was in deep, too deep. His stubborn pride would not allow him to move past her hurtful words and yet here he was dreaming of marriage.

“You are a beast, Reed Hargrave.”

Was he? Was he a beast?

He knew he looked one, but he didn’t think he acted one. He’d taken whatever measures necessary in order to provide Luciana with a home and a position after her ship went down. He had gone out of his way to keep her at Yellow Brook even when at first he found her presence a nuisance. Of course, his desire to keep her there had changed over time, but without his help she would surely be living on Eastbourne’s worst streets. She should be grateful, but instead, she called him a beast.

His neck grew taunt with anger. What was he to do? He loved her; he could no longer deny it. He wanted to gather her in his arms and kiss her until his dying breath. And yet he almost couldn’t stand the sight of her he was so livid. Selfishly livid, he knew, but livid all the same.

“Reed?”

Jumping, Reed uttered a curse. He swiped his hand across his slick forehead. He needed a stiff drink. Bad.

When his heart settled, he opened his eyes, expecting to see Luciana. Instead, he stared into the clear, calm eyes of Aliana. He should have known. He turned away.

“I’d like to be alone, if you don’t mind, Miss Martin.”

“Certainly.” There was a pause. “But only after you listen to me.”

He narrowed his eyes. “I’m sure it can wait.”

“No, it can’t.”

He held her gaze for a long, tense moment. She wasn’t going to back down, was she? It didn’t look like she would. He wasn’t in any mood to listen to her commend herself on a wonderful evening or tell him she still loved him. His feelings for her had long since withered and died and her self-congratulatory attitude made him want to vomit. Her eyes were fierce, though—fierce, determined, and unclouded.

He relented with a sigh and a swipe of one hand down his face. “What is it?”

She looked over her shoulder toward the open ballroom doors. Light spilled out into the dark rotunda. Music and laughter drifted through the air, grating on Reed’s already frayed nerves. When she looked back at him, her stare had gone from determined to reluctant. She wrung her hands together before her waist.

“I really don’t want to have to be the one to do this,” she said slowly, looking over her shoulder again.

He raised his eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest. “Do what?”

“Give you the bad news.”

“What bad news?” He gritted his teeth. “Miss Martin, tell me what you have to and be done with it.”