The abomination he saw before him was a shock. His eyes were red and swollen, his face a range of colours, from black and blue to shades of green and yellow. He smiled ruefully at his reflection. He might have had to fight to resist the abundant charms of Miss Regan, but looking as he did he doubted it would have required any effort on her part to resist him. If anything, it was amazing she could bear to look at him.
Fully dressed, it was time for him to leave. He looked around the room as if committing every inch of it to his memory. He would never see this delightful room again. It was small, it was humble, but like Nellie Regan herself it was cheerful and welcoming. He looked back at the unmade bed, at the hand-stitched patchwork quilt that had covered him for the last two days. He ran his hand across the embroidered cushion on her armchair where she had kindly spent the first night while he had selfishly taken her bed. He stroked the fine lace cover on her washstand. Opening a bottle of perfume, he closed his eyes and inhaled the familiar scent of roses. It was Nellie’s scent, a scent that was on the bedclothes, a scent that had tormented him as he had tried to sleep. He was tempted to slip the bottle into his pocket so he would have a lasting reminder of her.
Realising what he was doing, he quickly screwed the lid back on the bottle and replaced it on the washstand. The beating he had received had not only caused swelling and bruising, it had obviously caused some damage to his brain. It was making him behave in a foolish, sentimental manner. The sooner he left and returned to his real life the better.
Slowly he walked down the stairs, being careful not to cause any more damage to his battered body. As he neared the last few steps, he forced his pace to increase, dragged his body into an upright position and removed all expression from his face. He did not want to betray that he was still in pain. It was essential to look completely recovered so Miss Regan would not argue that he should stay. It was an argument that he was unsure he might not allow himself to lose.
He entered the shop and the gasps from Nellie’s two assistants reminded him of just how terrible he looked. They continued to stare at him in wide-eyed shock as Miss Regan rushed over to him.
‘Are you sure you’re all right?’ She placed her hand on his arm. ‘You don’t look too good. You’ve gone quite pale. Well, you’re black and blue, but under that you’re pale.’
He waved his hand in dismissal. ‘I’m fine. I’m sure I look much worse than I feel. It’s time I returned home.’ His voice came out more clipped than he intended as he fought not to wince in reaction to the pain that was racking his body.
‘Well, I’ll walk with you to the end of the street where you should be able to hail a hansom cab.’
She held out her arm for him to take, as if he were an invalid, and smiled up at him. Dominic hesitated. The desire to touch this lovely young woman one last time was all but overwhelming. It was a desire that he should not be feeling for so many reasons. He was an engaged man. He was going to marry another woman. And until he had met Nellie Regan that was a situation that he was completely satisfied with. It was exactly what he wanted. But spending two nights and days with this lovely woman had made him question whether it was indeed what he wanted.
He drew in a deep breath. Another good reason why he had to leave, right now. Once he left this place he would once again see that he had exactly what he wanted. He would remember all the reasons why marrying Cecily Hardgrave was the right thing to do. The only reason he was questioning it now was because during the time he had spent with Nellie Regan in that small room an unexpected intimacy had developed between them, one that would never happen under usual circumstances. They were from different worlds and now he was returning to his real life and leaving her to her own world.
Her smile started to quiver as he continued to hesitate. He was being unforgivably rude. He took her arm. ‘I can walk unaccompanied, you know, but thank you,’ he said, his words once again clipped.
He opened the door for her and they walked down the street, arm in arm, to the busy intersection. The first cab he hailed stopped and once again that sense of disappointment descended on him.
‘Thank you for everything you’ve done, Miss Regan,’ he said as he opened the cab door. ‘You’ve been most kind.’
And I’ve repaid your kindness by having inappropriate thoughts, unacceptable desires.
‘You have nothing to thank me for. And I’ve already told you I’m not kind at all.’ She smiled to show she was teasing.
Dominic remained staring down at her, his hand on the cab door, as if incapable of leaving.
‘And will you still be available to style my sister’s hair?’
She smiled and nodded. ‘As I said, it’s the least I can do after all that I’ve put you through.’
He declined to remind her once again that it hadn’t been her fault that he had ended up black and blue. And the torment she had put him through was all of his own making. It certainly wasn’t her fault that she was beautiful, charming and enticing.
He coughed lightly to drive out that thought. ‘Thank you. And I know how much you resent being treated as a servant.’
‘Well, I...’
He waved away her protests. ‘You can be assured you will not be treated as a servant when you
