He stopped eating and looked at her, his brow furrowed. ‘I’m so sorry, Nellie... Miss Regan. Did you have brothers, sisters, other family members?’
She shook her head. ‘No, Mam was always poorly and I was her only child. They were both orphans.’ She blinked a few times to brush away some pesky tears.
‘I’m sorry. I was lucky, in that I had my sisters, Amanda, Violet and Emmaline. They’re a responsibility and, as the eldest, I had to be strong when my parents died so I could care for them. Not that I begrudge that for one moment. I adore my sisters and will do anything for them.’ He gave a small laugh. ‘These bruises are proof of that. I’d even take a beating so my eldest sister can have her hair done by the famous Nellie Regan.’
She smiled at him, unshed tears still in her eyes.
‘But it must have been hard for you, Nellie... Miss Regan, left all alone. What did you do? How did you cope?’
She blinked a few times and took in a deep breath. ‘When they died, I knew I’d have to go into service, just as my mam had done before me. Then I heard you could get passage to America as there were wealthy people out there looking for servants. I decided if I was going to have to be someone else’s skivvy I might as well make an adventure out of it, so I booked passage to New York.’
He was staring at her intently, still not eating. ‘All by yourself? How old were you?’
‘Thirteen.’
He shook his head slowly. ‘Thirteen? That’s so young. You are very brave.’
She shrugged off his compliment. ‘Well, I’ve had to be, haven’t I?’ She picked up his bowl and piled it up on her tray, the bowls clashing together in her impatience. She wanted this conversation to end, even though she had started it.
He smiled at her, a sympathetic smile.
Nellie strode back into the kitchen. She did not need his sympathy, nor did she want his compliments. She had made her way in the world surviving however she could. It was no more than many other women in her situation had been forced to do and there was no point dwelling on misfortunes that were now in the past.
She looked into the hamper and with food like this on offer she did not feel unfortunate in the slightest. She put together a selection of cheeses, cold meats, fruit and slices of pie.
‘I’ll have to rescue men on a regular basis if I get to eat this well.’ Nellie laughed as she carried through the tray and placed it on the bed. ‘We can have a delicious picnic among the bedcovers.’
She looked over at his bruised face and stopped laughing. ‘Sorry, that was cheeky. I didn’t mean it and I’m sorry for what happened to you.’
He waved his hand in dismissal. ‘Not your fault, but a picnic among the bedcovers is some compensation.’ He smiled cautiously, trying to avoid further splitting his lip.
They chatted pleasantly throughout the meal, with Mr Lockhart asking her about her day, her business and her plans for the future.
When they’d finished eating Nellie returned their plates to the kitchen and boiled some water for the dishes. It almost felt like a comfortable domestic situation and Nellie found herself singing as she washed and dried the dishes and put away the plates.
She returned to the room and made up her bed for the evening. ‘You must be getting a bit bored. Would you like some books to read?’
He pointed to his eyes. One was badly swollen, the other horribly bloodshot. ‘Thank you, but it will be a bit hard to read with these eyes.’
Nellie nodded. ‘Would you like me to read to you?’
‘Yes, very much.’
Nellie picked up her collection of Sherlock Holmes stories and settled down to read ‘A Scandal in Bohemia’. As he listened, Nellie smiled to herself. She could think of no better way to end her day than this cosy domestic scene, although it would be nicer if the man in her bed was there from choice and not because of Patrick Kelly’s big fists.
Dominic lay back on the pillows and let her gentle Irish voice wash over him as she recounted the antics of the fictional consulting detective and his trusty companion, Dr Watson. He missed much of the story as he was too occupied looking at the reader. She was obviously enjoying reading to him. Her brow furrowed during the serious bits, a small smile alighted her lips during the humorous events, and every so often she looked up at him, so they could share a particularly interesting part.
It had been years since anyone had read to him. Not since his mother had died, ten years ago, giving birth to his youngest sister. Since then it had been his role to read to his sisters when they were young, a task that Amanda later took over from him.
If the Duke of Ashmore could see them now it would put paid to his assumption that he was having a torrid affair with Nellie Regan. The Duke had jumped to conclusions, although he had expressed no objections to the idea that Miss Regan was Dominic’s mistress. The only time he’d shown any objections to anything during their visit was when Cecily had said she wanted to go downstairs and have her hair styled. The Duke had been adamant that she should remain in the room with them. It wasn’t until Dominic assured him that it would be all right that the Duke had relented. He had assumed Dominic was informing him that Miss Regan knew how to be discreet, rather than letting him know that she was not his mistress.
And
