He didn’t budge.
‘If it’s people not respecting me that you’re worried about, then you’ll respect my wishes and leave with me, now. I don’t want any more trouble here. These are my neighbours, people I have to live with.’
He looked down at her, looked over at Patrick and, to Nellie’s immense relief, nodded his agreement. They crossed the crowded public house, watched by a roomful of silent, angry men.
Nellie breathed a sigh of relief as the door swung shut behind them and they walked out into the night air. The street was dark and cool, and the cobblestones glistened from recent rain that had fallen unheard while they were inside. It was a stark contrast to the noise and heat of the busy public house.
Mr Lockhart looked down at her, a grim smile on his face. ‘If nothing else, that altercation got you out of that noisy tavern to somewhere quieter where we can talk.’
Nellie’s relief was short-lived. Oh, that. She’d momentarily forgotten that he was here to tell her off.
She gestured towards the door behind them. ‘I could have looked after myself, you know. I’ve been dealing with men like Patrick Kelly all my life. I know how to handle myself.’ She did not want him to think she was beholden to him in any way, or that his behaviour gave him the right to admonish her further.
‘Perhaps, but you shouldn’t have to.’
Nellie shrugged. She couldn’t argue with him there. But that was the way of the world. Women like Nellie had to be able to defend themselves. They weren’t like Lady Cecily who lived in a protected world, a world where they could always behave in a demure and ladylike manner. Nellie had grown up knowing she had to be tough to survive.
‘Anyway, allow me to escort you home. It will finally enable me to talk to you.’
Nellie bristled. She did not want him to think that just because he had defended her so-called honour that it gave him the right to tell her off. But they did need to get away from the public house and those enraged men.
They walked along the narrow footpath, bordered by closed shops and rows of brick terraced houses. The neighbourhood changed at night, after the well-heeled shoppers departed and only the people who lived and worked in the area remained.
It wasn’t far to Nellie’s business premises, where she had rooms above the shop. Thankfully, with only a few yards to travel he wouldn’t have much time to give her a telling off. She’d just have to endure a quick reprimand, try not to prolong it by arguing with him, then she could escape back to her sanctuary.
‘Miss Regan,’ he said and Nellie braced herself. ‘I want to ask you if you would be kind enough to do my sister’s hair for a ball I’m hosting at Lockhart Estate next month. She was very taken with the style worn by the Duchess of Somerfeld and wondered if you could do her hair in a similar style.’
Nellie nearly stumbled over the cobblestones and stopped mid-step. She looked up at him. There was no anger in his expression. He was merely waiting politely for her answer.
She covered her mouth with both hands, but she couldn’t stop a small giggle from escaping.
He furrowed his brow and frowned slightly. ‘You find that funny?’
‘No, no, not at all,’ Nellie said, still laughing as she lowered her hands. ‘Was that what you wanted to ask me when you came down to the servants’ hall at the Ashmores’ home?’
‘Yes.’
‘And that was the reason why you came down to London, came to my shop and followed me to The Hanged Man?’
He nodded.
Nellie laughed again. ‘I thought you wanted to tell me off for...well, you know, that act I put on in the servants’ hall.’
The furrows on his forehead grew deeper. ‘You thought I pursued you to London, followed you to that drinking establishment, all because I wanted to tell you off?’
‘Well, yes.’
He continued to stare down at her as if she was a curiosity and a burning blush exploded on her cheeks. Whether that was because she was embarrassed at her foolish behaviour or because looking up into those midnight-dark eyes had such an unsettling effect, she couldn’t say. All she knew was her heart was performing a strange fluttering motion in her chest and the cool night air seemed to have suddenly become very warm.
‘You must think I’m very vindictive, or I have nothing better to do with my time,’ he said.
Nellie shrugged and began walking again. That was exactly what she had thought of him. That was what she thought of most men from his class. But it seemed, in his case, she had misjudged him.
They rounded the corner and their progress was halted by Patrick Kelly and a group of his friends. They were panting loudly, either with rage or, more likely, because they had taken the back streets and run ahead so they could cut them off. But there was no doubting the fury they still harboured over what had happened in the public house. Each man had adopted a fighter’s stance, his fists clenched, his body taut and face rigid.
‘Patrick, there’s no need for this. No harm was done,’ Nellie struggled to say, her throat so constricted her voice came out as a squeak. She took hold of Dominic’s arm, pulling him backwards, hoping he’d have the sense to make a run for it. But his stance was just as belligerent as his assailants, his lips a thin hard line, his cold black eyes fierce and implacable.
Patrick Kelly stepped forward, his jaw jutting high in the air. ‘No harm’s been done yet, but this posh nob is about to come to some frightful harm. Isn’t he, boys?’
It happened so fast Nellie had no time to do a thing. One moment
