Amanda raised clenched hands to the sides of her face and grimaced. ‘That’s not what Nellie wants,’ she said, slowly enunciating each word. ‘She wants to succeed on her own terms. She doesn’t want to get respect through someone else. And all you did was show her how little you respect what she’s achieved, what she’s done with her life. How little you respect her.’
‘That’s not true,’ he said, his voice rising. ‘That’s not true,’ he repeated, his voice lower. After all, he was not arguing with Amanda, just explaining what had happened and why he and Nellie would not be marrying. ‘Of course I respect her. I admire the way she is so independent and so determined to succeed. I admire the way she has made a life for herself, built up a business.’
‘And did you tell her any of this?’
He stared at his sister and she raised her eyebrows, knowing the answer.
‘No.’ He absorbed the implication of what he had just said. ‘You’re right, Amanda. They are qualities I admire about her. If she wasn’t independent, if she wasn’t doing things her own way, then she wouldn’t be the Nellie I fell in love with.’
His sister sat back in her chair, picked up her teacup and smiled in satisfaction.
‘Nellie’s business is important to her,’ Dominic said as much to himself as to his sister. ‘Succeeding is important to her.’ He looked over at Amanda. ‘But if she doesn’t want my money, my houses, my estate, then I have nothing to offer her.’
Amanda’s eyes grew wide again and she looked as if she was tempted to throw her cup at him. ‘Dominic, you are hopeless. You have something very important you can offer her. Your love. If you love Nellie Regan, then that is what you should have told her. You should have told her why you loved her. You do love her, don’t you?’
He flicked his finger against his brandy balloon.
Wasn’t that obvious? Hadn’t he already said that?
‘Well?’
‘Yes, of course I love her. With all my heart.’
‘And do you want to live without her?’
‘No, of course I don’t.’
‘And do you want to marry her?’
‘Yes, of course I do. I’ve already asked her and been turned down.’
‘Well, ask her again. And this time tell her how much you love her. Let her know all the things about her you love, all the reasons why you fell in love with her. Even a dunderhead like you must be capable of doing that.’
He stared at his sister. She glared back at him, her expression uncompromising. ‘What’s the problem, Dominic? Are you too proud to ask again? Are you too proud to admit you got it wrong and your last attempt at proposing marriage was worse than bad, it was awful? If she had said yes to that preposterous proposal, she would have been saying yes to your homes and your money, she would be agreeing to a business proposition, not a marriage proposal, not a declaration of love.’
He continued to stare at Amanda, weighing up her words.
‘So, this is what you are going to do. You are going to go back to London and you’re going to propose to Nellie again. And this time you’re going to do it properly.’
Dominic drew in a deep breath, exhaled slowly, then smiled at his sister. ‘How did someone as young as you get to be so clever?’
Her glare turned into a gratified smile. ‘Oh, it’s very easy to be clever when it’s someone else’s love life you’re trying to sort out. Now off you go.’
Dominic stood, kissed his sister on the top of her head and departed for London.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Nellie knew what she had to do, but was unsure how she was going to do it. What do you say to a man who you’ve told you don’t want to marry and you never want to see again? How do you say that, um, you’ve changed your mind, and if he’s still interested, then, yes, you would like to marry him after all?
Should she write him a letter? Spill out her heart on paper? Should she take the train down to Kent and burst into his home, or should she lurk about outside his town house and wait till he came up to London so she could accost him? None of these options seemed particularly appealing as all of them involved Nellie admitting she was wrong, something she was unfamiliar with doing.
But she had to do something. She had to let him know how she felt. Of all the options she had available, writing a letter seemed like the least difficult to do. Well, it was the easiest from an organisational point of view, but it was hardly easy. Seating herself at the counter, she placed a clean white sheet of paper in front of her, uncapped a bottle of ink and dipped in her pen. Then she stared at the blank page, her pen poised above it, her mind equally blank.
Why was this so hard? All she had to do was tell him how she felt. She wrote Dear Dominic at the top of the page, then stared at it. Should she have started with My Dearest Dominic? Yes, that would be better.
She screwed up the piece of paper and threw it on the floor, took another one from the pile and wrote My Dearest Dominic.
Then what?
She chewed the end of her pen. Suddenly, the idea of lurking outside his town house or surprising him by turning up unannounced at his estate was becoming more appealing.
The bell above the door rang. ‘I’m sorry, we’re closed, you’ll have to...’ She looked up and the words died on her lips. ‘Dominic. I was just...’ She looked down at the page bearing just three words, then looked at the man standing in the doorway. ‘What are you doing here?’
He stepped
