She could see him stifling a sigh of irritation that she was once again claiming to be too busy for him. When she had left him standing in the Ashmores’ kitchen, nothing had been preventing her from staying and listening to what he had to say. Nothing, that was, except her own refusal to be treated like an insolent servant. But this time it was true. She did have a customer waiting and she would never be rude to a customer. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t be rude to this self-important oaf.
After all, wasn’t he being rude to her? Thinking he could come into her shop and reprimand her in her own premises, in front of her own staff and customer. That was what Nellie would call rude.
‘I assure you, Miss Regan, this won’t take more than a minute of your time.’
Nellie shook her head and stared unflinchingly into those dark brown eyes. She would not look away, even though her body was starting to burn under his gaze and she was forgetting how to breathe properly.
‘I’m afraid I can’t even spare you one minute.’ Nellie released her held breath, pleased that her voice had come out with sufficient self-assurance.
Time was not really the issue. It never had been. She simply would not let this impertinent man reprimand her. She wasn’t going to let him do it at Hardgrave Estate and she certainly wasn’t going to let him do it here.
And that wasn’t just because he had no right to do so. It was also because she couldn’t guarantee she wouldn’t lose her temper and she certainly didn’t want to do that with her staff and customer listening in. ‘I don’t have even one single second to spare you. Now if you’ll excuse me.’ She took a step towards the curtains, then paused as a wicked thought occurred to her.
She turned to face him. ‘The parlour closes at six o’clock. If you want to talk to me, it will have to wait till then. Harriet, Matilda and I are going for a drink after work at The Hanged Man public house. If you’ve got something to say to me, you can say it there and I’ll have all the time in the world to listen to what you have to say.’
She smiled in the direction of Harriet and Matilda, who were looking at her with stunned surprise. Nellie knew exactly what they were thinking. A gentleman like Mr Lockhart wouldn’t be seen dead in a common place like The Hanged Man, a tavern frequented by shop girls, local workers and other people he would consider far beneath him.
‘Harriet will give you directions. So, until then, goodbye, Mr Lockhart.’ Smiling to herself, she disappeared behind the curtains.
Dominic stood outside the doors of The Hanged Man and forced himself not to get angry. Nothing would be gained by losing his temper, but it was hard not to. That little Irish madam was still giving him the run around and all he wanted to do was offer her work. But letting her irritating behaviour get under his skin would do no one any good and wouldn’t help his sister.
He pushed open the door and was met with a fug of tobacco smoke, a cacophony of loud voices and a sea of men in cloth caps. The tavern was packed wall to wall and, as he looked at the attire of the patrons, many had come straight from work. The men were mostly dressed in stained overalls or rough trousers and coats, and some were without jackets, their shirt sleeves rolled up over weather-beaten tattooed arms. He could also see shop girls in their uniform of plain black skirts and white blouses, and a few patrons who looked as if they worked as day servants in the local houses.
He pushed his way through the jostling crowd and spotted Miss Regan and her assistants sitting at a small round table in front of the window, tankards of ale in front of them, chatting and laughing together.
How was he supposed to have a sensible conversation with her in this raucous environment? But he suspected that was exactly Miss Regan’s intention, to make things as difficult for him as possible. The woman truly was insufferable. He drew in a deep, irritable breath and edged his way through the jostling crowd.
When he reached her table, she looked up at him. Her big green eyes grew even wider and he was sure a gasp of surprise escaped her lips, although he couldn’t hear a thing above the racket of a room full of people all talking at once. He would have taken pleasure in her discomposure, but right now it was hard to feel anything except annoyance.
‘Miss Regan,’ he shouted down at her, trying to be heard above the noise. ‘Hopefully, now that you have finished work for the day, you finally have time to talk to me.’
She gestured to a spare chair. ‘Get yourself a drink and join us,’ she called back to him, sending a small smile in the direction of her assistants. She’d obviously thought he wouldn’t want to drink in an establishment such as this. Well, she didn’t know him very well, did she? He had visited rougher drinking dens than this with his father and was not fazed by either the clientele or the surroundings. Despite his father’s change in circumstances and fortune, he still liked to socialise with people he considered the salt of the earth and many a time had taken his young son along with him.
But that did not mean he had any intention of staying any
