Page 27 of Saving a Scoundrel
Lucius quickly procured a glass of lemonade and returned to the bow, where Ellie sat staring at the wooden mast with a glassy-eyed intensity. She had removed her wide-brimmed bonnet, and it sat strewn on the ground by her feet as though she had flung it down. He offered her the glass. But she shook her head.
“Drink some, swish, and spit it out into the water. It will rinse the foul taste from your mouth.”
She glanced up at him with startled eyes. “You want me to swish and spit…in front of you?”
He pushed the glass into her hands. “For goodness’ sake, Ellie, I’m trying to be helpful. I’ll turn around, all right?”
He twisted, so his back was to her. He heard her skirts rustle as she walked to the railing.
“I’m done,” she said quietly after a couple of moments.
Lucius took his seat next to her. She offered him a small smile. “That does feel better.”
“Good. Danvers is going to dock at Hampton. He said it would be about twenty minutes. From there, I will take you home by carriage.” She opened her mouth, and he laid a finger to her lips. “No questions. No arguing. I’ve handled it.”
Ellie nodded. “Thank you. I can’t wait to get off this blasted boat.” She set down her glass and leaned her head against his shoulder. They were mostly hidden by the mast and the row of buoys hanging from the jib. “Distract me.”
“How?” Lucius glanced down at the top of her head. Her hair shone golden in the sunlight. He wanted to brush his lips across the silky strands, but instead, he took her hand in his. She had removed her gloves, and he admired how slim and long her fingers were, the nails neatly trimmed.
She turned his hand over and brushed a finger over the ink stains on his finger and thumb. “Do these have something to do with why you were late today? Were you writing love letters to someone?” She giggled at her own joke.
“I should take offense at your laughter. I could write a brilliant love letter if I wanted.”
Ellie’s shoulders shook with suppressed mirth.
“I wish it had been such a pleasant task. Mr. Castell, my boss at the Termage, yes, my boss, he had me going through the tally books for the past few weeks. There have been discrepancies in the totals from the tables.”
“How many jobs do you have?” Ellie asked.
“Just the two.” Lucius winced a little at the lie. He certainly wasn’t ever going to tell Ellie about working for Viola. “On Thursday afternoons, I do the accounting for Gavin Macdougal at the brewery. I also work several afternoons there on the brew floor, depending on when he needs extra hands. In addition, I tally the books for Castell each morning, except Mondays.”
“Why not Mondays?”
“Because the Termage is not open on Sundays. Castell is a devout Catholic, and he thinks it’s bad luck to pedal vice on Sundays.” Lucius shrugged when she snorted softly. “What can I say? He’s a complicated man.”
“How did you come to work at the Termage?” Ellie picked her head up and turned her gaze to him. Dammit, that guileless look always had him telling the truth, even if it was embarrassing.
“Castell caught me cheating at one of his tables last fall. I was counting cards. It’s just something I can do, and I usually stay away from playingvignt-un. It’s not fair to the others. But last October, I was out of money, and I didn’t want any of my friends to know how dire my situation was, so I playedvignt-unseveral nights in a row at the Termage.
“The third night, Mr. Mercer, who runs the floor, casually grabbed my elbow and said my presence was requested by Mr. Castell. Well, I won’t tell you all the details of that evening because it is not for a lady’s ears and it’s damn embarrassing. But he ended up offering me the job of keeping the books. He hated handling the accounting, and he trusts very few people. He said I owed him now, and that would keep me honest.”
Ellie’s eyes widened. “Do you like working there?”
Lucius stared out at the water. “Yes, actually. They have sort of taken me in as part of the family. The first day that I showed up late, maybe a week into the job, Castell told me that I could have one of the rooms upstairs. And I’d better never be late again.” He chuckled. “Castell collects lost souls. He is scary as the devil himself, but he takes care of the people in his organization.”
She squeezed his fingers. “And the brewery?”
Lucius looked back at Ellie. “The brewery is different. Hawksridge told Macdougal about my skill with numbers, and he hired me on the recommendation. I love the place. Mac always has me doing this or that to help out. One evening, he was working on brewing something new, and when I came down from the office and asked him a slew of questions about the process, he let me help. I’ve since come up with my own recipe, and the beer has been popular.”
“That’s wonderful, Lucius. I’m so proud of you.”
Seeing the truth of those words in her eyes sent his pulse scrambling. “You are?”
“Yes, of course. Lucius, Hawksridge told us you’d been cut off. And look, you’ve landed on your feet. Good for you.”
Had he landed on his feet? Many days, he still felt that he was barely surviving. He was always balancing his reputation among his friends with the sacrifices he had to make to survive. Ellie would never understand the choices he made to earn enough to keep up appearances.
The boat rocked violently as it pulled in next to the dock. Ellie gripped the edges of her crate with white-knuckled fingers. “Don’t worry; we’ve docked. Look.” He pointed to the left where a crewman had just thrown a rope to another man on the dock.
