Chapter Nine
The real Dominic Lockhart had returned. The man she had briefly seen, the one who could laugh, who could relax, even talk about how he felt, had once again become hidden behind that wall of superiority and reserve.
Well, so be it. She might have harboured ridiculous fantasies last night when they were side by side in bed, but that’s all it could possibly be. A ridiculous fantasy. To think otherwise would be foolhardy. Nellie knew she had many faults, but foolhardiness was not one of them.
The way he had spoken about love and marriage showed just what sort of man he was: a passionless, social climber. If he saw marriage as a way to advance his position, then Lady Cecily was welcome to him. And what did it matter to Nellie anyway? Why had she been so interested in his relationship with Lady Cecily and his reasons for wanting to marry her? It had nothing to do with her.
‘Right, well, I for one have work to do today,’ she said, standing quickly. ‘The hairdressing parlour doesn’t open until nine o’clock, so I’ll go around to see your valet before then. I’m sure he won’t still be in bed. After all, you probably don’t know it, but servants start work at six o’clock, while the rest of the household is still sound asleep.’
‘I’m well aware of the long hours that servants work.’
She stared at him for a moment, wanting to give him a lecture on the working conditions of most servants, but once again registered the bruising on his face, now turning various shades of green, blue and yellow. He did not need lectures from her. She’d accused him of being haughty, but if she hadn’t been so haughty when they first met, if she hadn’t been so determined to make him feel uncomfortable, he’d now be lying in his own bed, his face unscathed by the fists and boots of Patrick Kelly and his friends.
‘Right, I’ll be back soon.’ She poured him another cup of tea as consolation for her outburst and handed it to him. ‘And try to eat something while I’m away. She indicated the toast and jam left untouched on the tray.
He took the cup from her outstretched hand and she was pleased their fingers did not make contact. She didn’t need her composure upset any further by the touch of his skin on hers.
‘And don’t move, while I’m gone.’ She pointed an admonishing finger at him. ‘After all, you did promise me.’
‘I won’t move. I promise. But before you go, you still haven’t answered my question.’
She shook her head. ‘Question, what question?’ She had been the one asking the questions, not him.
‘Last night you didn’t respond when I asked you if you’d do my sister’s hair for the ball next month at Lockhart Estate.’
‘Oh, that. Yes, of course I will. After all, it’s the least I can do for you.’
He smiled at her. ‘Thank you, that will make Amanda very happy.’ And what a smile. It lit up his face and brought warmth to those usually cold dark eyes. He should smile more often. Just as quickly as it had appeared it disappeared. He winced slightly and put his hand to the split in his lip.
Nellie cringed with guilt. Thanks to her this poor man couldn’t even smile properly. Not that smiling was something he did a lot of, but still.
Meeting her had caused him so much harm. He was right. He should return to his own world as soon as possible. Away from the damage that her actions had inflicted on him. Away from her nosy questions and her bad behaviour.
At least he didn’t know just how bad her behaviour was. He didn’t know that she had kissed him last night. Nellie blushed at the memory and pretended she was looking for her purse to cover her embarrassment.
‘I do appreciate it,’ he continued. ‘You will have to travel to my estate in Kent to do Amanda’s hair, but you will be well rewarded for all the hours you are away from your business. Plus, I will ensure that all travel arrangements are made to your convenience and you will be provided with suitable accommodation rather than staying in the servants’ quarters.’
Nellie nodded her thanks. He was being very generous. More than she deserved. Her days of being a servant were now behind her and the Duchess of Somerfeld was the only person whose hair she styled away from her London parlour, but for his sister she would make an exception. After all, she owed Mr Lockhart so much. He didn’t need to go to so much trouble to make it worth her while, but she appreciated that she would not be treated as a servant but as a professional providing a specialised service.
She tucked in his quilt as he told her the address of his town house, asked him one more time if he needed anything, to which she received a definite no, and headed out on to the bustling street.
It was already busy at this early hour with shop girls heading to work, clerks in bowler hats walking briskly to their offices and heavily laden delivery carts bringing in the daily goods to the nearby shops. The noise of the vibrant city always invigorated Nellie. She loved the sound of the horses’ hooves clipping on the cobblestones, the carriages whirring past and the cheerful sounds of people calling out greetings.
