Just by looking at him she could tell what sort of man he was. He was certain to be arrogant—that superior tilt of his head and the way he held himself so erect proved that. He probably knew just how handsome he was as well—after all, it was certainly something Nellie had noticed right away. But a handsome face and aristocratic bearing doesn’t make a man attractive, not in Nellie’s eyes anyway. How could a man be attractive when there’s no laughter, no enjoyment of life?
No, Mr Lockhart was certainly not her type.
She looked over to where the footmen were standing, lined up like a row of soldiers in uniforms of red and gold livery. Those men were more her type. They were having to act all proper and formal while they were working, but she was sure that, when they were off duty, they’d know how to have a good time. And one footman in particular interested her. He wasn’t quite as handsome as Mr Dominic Lockhart, but he came a close second. The footman wouldn’t be finished his duties until well after the last guests had left, but hopefully he’d be up for a bit of flirting to round off the evening. And looking down at the doleful event, she suspected the footman would be free from his duties very soon. Most guests had the look of people wanting to make their escape and only a few couples were still dancing. Nellie swayed gently as the band played ‘The Blue Danube’ while she watched the remaining dancers shuffle round the floor, their noses firmly in the air, their bodies rigid.
Unlike the footman and the other servants, Nellie knew her services would not be needed again this evening. While most lady’s maids were required to help their mistress undress, the Duchess preferred to leave that task to the Duke.
No, there was nothing keeping her here. She sent one last gaze in the direction of Mr Lockhart, then headed towards the back stairs that would take her to the servants’ area. As a lady’s maid she was entitled to spend her non-working time in the housekeeper’s comfortable sitting room with the other higher-ranked servants, but that would be as much fun as the engagement party. The upper servants aped the manners of their employers and seemed to see laughing and enjoying themselves as something far beneath people of their exalted station. Instead she would spend the rest of the evening in the kitchen, with the jolly cook and the giggling scullery maid while she waited for the handsome footman to come off duty.
Dominic Lockhart took his fiancée’s gloved hand and escorted her off the dance floor and back to her parents, the Duke and Duchess of Ashmore. The party was a triumph for both families. His engagement to Lady Cecily would restore his family to its rightful place in society, a place that should never have been denied them. And Lady Cecily was assured the comfortable life a woman of her status expected. A life that her increasingly impoverished family was struggling to provide.
He nodded to the Duke of Ashmore, his future father-in-law, and bowed to the Duchess, both of whom smiled at him with satisfaction. They, too, could see the advantage of this marriage. While Hardgrave Estate was a magnificent country home, set in many acres of lush farmland, one didn’t have to look too hard to see that it was in dire need of extensive repairs, something the Hardgrave family could ill afford.
Even this once-elegant ballroom was displaying signs of neglect. If one looked closely enough you could see the patches where gold leaf had flaked off the ornately carved ceiling. The large crystal chandeliers had candles in only every second candle holder and some of them were tallow rather than wax. This gave the room an unfortunate acrid smell that couldn’t be entirely disguised by the large bouquets of scented flowers adorning every corner. And a discerning eye could tell that some of the paintings lining the walls had been replaced with cheap reproductions, not to mention the occasional square of faded wallpaper, showing where the family had had to sell off art works to pay their mounting debts.
He had met Lady Cecily a few times over the years, as, like himself, the family had a home in the Kent countryside, but had never considered her a prospect for marriage. He had been somewhat surprised when her father had suggested this arrangement, but it was an eminently satisfactory one. At twenty-seven he knew it was time he settled down and got married. He had been in the process of taking an inventory of the available young women with the required status who would make a suitable match, but the Duke of Ashmore had cut short this process by suggesting his daughter Cecily as a suitable bride.
A family with such a long and distinguished lineage as the Hardgraves’ might once have been reluctant to align themselves with a man who came from such a dubious background as himself, but now their reduced circumstances meant they were more than happy with their daughter’s intended.
And it wasn’t just a perfect match because it would be so advantageous to the Lockhart and the Hardgrave families. He and Lady Cecily were so well matched in temperament as well. She was serious and demure and would make any man an ideal wife. Perhaps they were a little cool towards each other, but surely that was all for the best. Look where great passion had led his parents, on a downwards trajectory until they were completely shunned by society.
He smiled at Cecily and received a pinched smile in
