Nellie continued to smile, determined not to feel uncomfortable in his company, determined not to think about what the Duke had said. ‘That’s excellent news,’ she trilled. ‘Now, I dare say you’re ready for something to eat. Shall we see what else your valet has sent you?’
Nellie went through to her small kitchen, where the table was piled with wicker baskets.
She opened one, peered in the top and saw an array of pies, cheeses, cartons of tea, bread, slices of cold meat, dried and fresh fruit, and jars of soup. Impressive. She warmed up some soup, poured it into two bowls, cut some slices of bread and carried one of the bowls through to the invalid.
‘Here you go. Fresh vegetable soup, prepared by my own fair hands, or at least prepared by the fair hands of your cook, delivered by the fair hands of your valet and served by me.’
He smiled as she placed the tray on his lap. ‘Are you having something to eat? You must be famished after your busy day.’
‘Yes, your valet brought enough food to feed the entire street. We’re certainly not going to go hungry.’ Nellie went back to the kitchen and returned with her bowl of steaming soup on a tray. She tasted it and sighed with contented approval. How wonderful it must be to have someone on your staff who could create such delicious fare.
‘It was nice of Lady Cecily and the Duke of Ashmore to visit,’ Nellie asked as casually as possible. ‘I hope Lady Cecily wasn’t too upset when she saw the state of you.’
She certainly wasn’t upset when she was having her hair styled, but perhaps that was just the impassive face she put on in front of the lower orders. Nor did she seem to share the concerns of her father. It seemed she saw Nellie as merely a servant performing her duties, and not as a real woman who could possibly pose a threat. Not that Nellie saw herself in those terms either. She blushed slightly and took another sip of her soup to cover her awkwardness.
‘Hmm,’ he said, revealing nothing to Nellie.
‘And I hope the Duke didn’t think it strange that you were recuperating here?’ she probed, looking at him carefully to see his reaction.
His lips tightened slightly, but he made no other reaction. ‘No, the Duke didn’t think it strange.’ It was another response that revealed little to Nellie.
She took another spoonful of soup. Had the Duke said anything to Mr Lockhart about Nellie being his mistress and, if he had, how had Mr Lockhart responded? They were questions Nellie was longing to ask, but couldn’t. Usually she had no qualms about discussing anything with anyone. But this was different. Nellie didn’t know why, but it was.
He lowered his spoon and stared at her. She braced herself, determined that she would not be embarrassed by the conversation to come. If he was going to discuss the Duke’s preposterous assumptions, she would respond sensibly and not be unnerved in the slightest. After all, she had nothing to feel embarrassed about.
‘How did you know what Lady Cecily and I looked like when we were dancing together?’
‘What?’ Nellie shook her head, taken by surprise. It was not the question she was expecting from him.
‘It’s just occurred to me. You were making fun of me and Lady Cecily, but you had never met either of us before.’
‘Oh, that.’ Nellie laughed in relief. ‘I’d been watching from up on the minstrels’ gallery above the ballroom.’
He raised an eyebrow. ‘Really? You were spying on us?’ His slight smile told Nellie that he was not criticising her, merely teasing.
She shrugged her shoulders. ‘Well, that wasn’t really my intention. I wanted to observe the ladies at the ball, to see what fashions they were wearing and how their lady’s maids had styled their hair.’
‘Oh, I suppose I can forgive you then,’ he said, still smiling.
Nellie smiled at him and took another sip of her soup. ‘Are Lady Cecily and her father going to visit you again tomorrow?’ Nellie was unsure why she had brought the conversation back to Lady Cecily’s and the Duke’s visit. Not when it made her so uncomfortable. It was like prodding a wound just to remind yourself how much it hurt.
‘No, I’ve told them there is no need. I’m perfectly all right.’ He looked up at her and smiled. ‘And that I’m being well cared for.’
Nellie was pleased. She would not have to see the Duke again, but was still surprised that Lady Cecily didn’t insist that she visit her fiancé. Perhaps she was waiting till he returned home. Perhaps she didn’t like visiting Nellie’s rooms, although she’d seemed perfectly comfortable in Nellie’s hairdressing parlour.
‘And I suppose your family will want to visit you as well,’ Nellie asked.
He shook his head. ‘I’ve given my valet instructions to not tell my sisters what happened. I don’t want them worried. Instead he’ll just send them a note to say I’ve been delayed in London for a while.’
Nellie nodded. ‘And your parents?’
He shifted slightly in the bed. ‘My parents are both dead.’
Nellie’s spoon halted, halfway to her mouth. She lowered it to her bowl. ‘Oh, I’m so sorry.’
He shook his head slightly. ‘It was a while ago now.’
‘But it still hurts, doesn’t it?’ Nellie was unsure whether she was speaking about the death of Mr Lockhart’s parents or her own.
‘Hmm.’ Once again his response revealed nothing.
She looked over at him, her head inclined, waiting for him to explain further.
He sighed slightly. ‘My mother died in childbirth when I was still at school and my father died not long after I finished my education. He had a recurrence of an illness he’d suffered from when he was a child and it affected his heart.’
He continued eating his soup as if that explained everything, but Nellie suspected that his curt response hid a wealth of pain.
‘My parents also died when I was young,’ she said quietly. ‘It was scarlet
