Nellie shook her head. ‘No, I think it’s the other way around. I’ve upset the household.’
The Duchess gave a small laugh, swivelled round on the tapestry-covered bench in front of the dressing table and smiled up at Nellie. ‘What have you done now? Flirted with the wrong man? Said the wrong thing to the butler? Insulted the housekeeper?’
Nellie removed the Duchess’s morning outfit from the wardrobe, folded it over her arm and sent the Duchess a contrite look. ‘Um, no. Worse than that, I’m afraid. I was rude to Mr Lockhart. Very rude. He caught me doing a rather insulting impersonation of him and Lady Cecily for the entertainment of the servants.’
The Duchess bit her lip to suppress a smile. ‘Really, Nellie? It looks like you’ve outdone yourself this time. Was he very angry?’
Nellie smiled conspiratorially. ‘Mmm, yes, very.’
She helped the Duchess into her skirt and jacket, and, while the Duchess buttoned up her jacket, Nellie hooked closed the buttons on her ankle boots. ‘He was so angry that I think it might be a good idea if I returned to London as soon as possible, before I see Mr Lockhart again.’ She paused in her work and looked up at the Duchess. ‘Would that be all right? Or will you be needing my services again today?’
‘Don’t worry about that. I can get one of the house servants to assist me. And thank you so much for coming with me this weekend.’
Nellie shrugged and went back to buttoning up the boots. There was no need for the Duchess to thank her. Nellie owed her so much that there was nothing she wouldn’t do for the Duchess. She’d been thirteen when she joined the van Haven family ten years ago, fresh off the boat from Ireland and lost in the big city of New York. Arabella van Haven, as the Duchess was then called, was only a year older than her. Along with Mr van Haven’s ward, Rosie Smith, the three girls had grown up together and Nellie had always been treated kindly. The two girls were now duchesses, with Rosie having married the Duke of Knightsbrook and Miss van Haven now the Duchess of Somerfeld.
And despite being elevated to the top of English society, they still treated her respectfully. The Duchess of Somerfeld had financed Nellie’s hairdressing parlour and, along with the Duchess of Knightsbrook, they did everything they could to promote her business. They had even endorsed her services in the advertisements she had placed in various journals read by middle-class women. That had all but guaranteed the success of her business. As soon as the advertisements were published she had been swamped by clients wanting to have their hair styled by the woman recommended by the Duchesses of Somerfeld and Knightsbrook.
‘You don’t have to thank me, I’m happy to do it,’ Nellie said. ‘I just hope I haven’t caused any problems for you and your husband by my bad behaviour.’
Arabella laughed. ‘No, not at all. Oliver always loves it when someone misbehaves and I know he’ll laugh when I tell him what you’ve done. Dominic Lockhart and Cecily Hardgrave are lovely people, but they can be a bit formal and serious at times. As Oliver would say, it never hurts to shake things up a bit.’
Nellie smiled. The Duke of Somerfeld had quite a reputation himself for misbehaving and shaking things up. Nellie had always liked him and was pleased her former mistress had married him, even if it had originally been against the Duchess’s wishes.
‘Well, I’m glad you’re not annoyed. But I still think it would be best if I leave as soon as possible.’
‘Certainly, Nellie.’ The Duchess stood in front of the full-length mirror as Nellie brushed down her skirt and jacket. ‘I’ll ask Oliver to arrange for his carriage to take you to the station.’
The Duchess smiled at her reflection. ‘Perfect, as always.’ She turned her head from side to side to observe the hairstyle from different angles. ‘Last night, just about every woman at the ball commented on my hair and I made sure I told them all about your hairdressing parlour. I think a few lady’s maids might be sent in your direction for some extra training.’
Nellie smiled at her former mistress. ‘Thank you. And I’m happy to attend you any time, you know that. I owe you so much.’
The Duchess waved her hand in dismissal and headed towards the door. ‘Not at all. But for now, I think we’d better organise your escape.’
Dominic sipped his morning coffee and looked out of his third-floor bedroom window. Luggage was being loaded on to a carriage bearing the Duke of Somerfeld’s crest and Nellie Regan was supervising. Although she seemed to be doing a lot more chatting than supervising, much to the pleasure of the footman and coachman.
The Duke and Duchess were presumably leaving after breakfast, so Dominic would have to find time to talk to the Duchess’s former lady’s maid before they left. He took another sip of his coffee. Sparring with her last night had been irritating, yet unexpectedly invigorating, and, despite himself, he was anticipating talking to her again with some pleasure.
Watching her, unobserved from his hidden vantage point, was certainly a pleasure to be savoured. The morning sunlight was sparking off her red hair, making the lighter, blonde strands shine with reflected light. It was so appropriate, her hair was like fire, just like the woman herself.
The coachman buckled a portmanteau on to the back of the coach and laughed at something Miss Regan had said. Breaking with protocol, the footman joined in their laughter and said something that made all three laugh even more. The two men were obviously quite taken with Miss Regan, but there was no surprise there.
What man wouldn’t be taken by such a feisty, not to mention stunningly attractive, young woman? She had certainly captured his attention last night and not just because of the somewhat unconventional nature
