an insignificant offense.”
A child. There was no irony in Fleming’s voice, no sign of awareness that his protégée was anything more she seemed to be—as, indeed, she had appeared to Cordelia in London.
Cordelia briefly wondered if Dr. Fleming was capable of an outright lie regarding such a matter. If he were—and given the young woman’s beauty and older appearance when she was properly cleaned and dressed—it was not such a leap to imagine that he might steal her from the streets of London and set her up as his …
Good God, what was she thinking? Fleming might be unpolished and discourteous, but he was no debauche. Clearly he had never seen Ivy in the white dress or any garment like it, and Ivy intended to keep it that way.
“Do I understand,” Cordelia said, “that Ivy has been living with a neighboring family?”
Fleming sighed and rubbed the crease between his eyes. “Yes. The Porritts are good people, well-regarded in this part of the Dales. What is your interest in Ivy, Mrs. Hardcastle?”
“I could not help but overhear that she seems unhappy where you have sent her. It must seem a very drastic change from the rookeries of London to the life of Yorkshire farmers.”
“Ivy has everything she needs … good food, a warm bed, fresh air and the company of young people. What else could she require?”
What else indeed. Cordelia made a quick and admittedly impulsive decision. “Will you allow me to speak with Ivy privately, Doctor?”
He bristled rather like the little spaniel who so fiercely guarded his mistress. “You will not expose her to the law—”
“Certainly not. As you may recall, I was against turning her over to the constable in London.” She met Ivy’s gaze. “My feelings on that score have not changed.”
Fleming’s shoulders sagged in defeat. “Ivy, you have nothing to fear. Speak to Mrs. Hardcastle, be honest with her, and then we’ll decide what is to be done.”
Ivy shot an uneasy glance toward the byre and reluctantly followed Cordelia into the house. Cordelia closed the door behind them. “Would you like some tea, Ivy, or scones?” she asked. “There were still a few left when my cousin and I departed the farm earlier this morning.”
Ivy slumped in a chair, arms shielding her breasts. “I ain’t ‘ungry.”
“Then perhaps you won’t mind if I prepare some for myself.” The tea things were still lying out from that morning’s service, so Cordelia began heating water, moving about the kitchen as if it were her own. Ivy’s sullen defiance reminded her far too much of another unhappy girl, only a little younger than this one, and she was grateful to have something to occupy her hands.
“I hope you will allow me to ask a few questions,” she said with forced lightness. “I’m a little bewildered at what I have seen and heard today.”
Ivy shuffled her feet under the table. “You followed me ‘ere, di’n’t you?”
“Yes, Ivy, I did.”
“Why?”
“Because I … I wished to learn more of Dr. Fleming, and since you claimed to be his friend—”
“You di’n’t recognize me from Lunnon when Oi had on the dress,” Ivy said suddenly, “but you knew roight away ‘oo Oi was when you saw me ‘ere.”
“And you recognized me at once when we met in the meadow,” Cordelia said, “but you did an excellent job of concealing it.”
Ivy gnawed on her lower lip. “You di’n’t tell Donal about the dress.”
Cordelia paused in her preparations. “It seems obvious that Dr. Fleming did not give it to you. Where did you acquire it?”
Ivy shuffled her feet under the table. “I … borrowed it.”
“From the Porritts?”
“Sometoims Oi loiks to dress up.”
“Have the Porritts seen you ‘dressed up’?”
“Not them.”
“Nor, I venture, has Dr. Fleming.” She took the kettle off the stove. “I presume that you have pretended to be a child since London?”
Ivy nodded shortly.
“You must have a very good reason for hiding your true age from your benefactor. But I suspect that you have been playing the child since long before you met Dr. Fleming.”
Ivy looked away. “‘Ow d’you know so much?”
“I have seen Seven Dials, and places much worse. To survive under such conditions requires great courage and resourcefulness.”
For the first time Ivy met her gaze. “Why should you keep moi secrets, when Oi troi to steal from yer gen’l’man friend?”
Cordelia smiled. “It is certainly true that someone fitting your description attempted to steal Lord Inglesham’s purse. But it seems that I have met two Ivys today—one who is quite grown up, speaks gracefully and is obviously of good family, and another who flaunts the vernacular of the rookeries and pretends to be an unlettered child. I have been quite unable to decide which one is real.”
Ivy squirmed and stared at the table. “Why d’you care?”
“Is it so astonishing that others besides Dr. Fleming might take an interest in a promising young woman … particularly when she has been denied the advantages she so clearly deserves?”
“You don’t even know me. ‘Ow d’you know wot Oi deserves?”
“From the time I was a young girl, I traveled all over the world with my father. I had to learn quickly how to understand many different kinds of people. It has always been my desire to help those in need, whether they be men, women or animals.”
“You loiks animals?”
“Very much. At my father’s country house in Gloucestershire, we have horses, dogs and wild creatures few Europeans have ever seen. That is why I came to visit Dr. Fleming, because of his fine reputation as a veterinarian.” She sat down across from Ivy and smiled. “May I speak frankly, as between two women?”
Ivy nodded warily, but her blue eyes took on a sparkle of interest.
“I cannot pretend,” Cordelia began, “to guess what kind of situation compelled you to live by such desperate means in a place like Seven Dials, but I can surmise why you chose to disguise yourself as a child. You had hoped to avoid the sort of salacious attentions you were suffering when Dr. Fleming rescued you.” She paused. “He did rescue you, did he not?”
“Yes.” Ivy rubbed at a bitten fingernail and almost smiled. “‘E ran them blodgers roight off, ‘e did.”
“And when he brought you to Yorkshire, he had no idea that you were older than you had made yourself appear.” She stopped to fetch hot water and the teapot, then laid out the cups and saucers in the center of the table. “When I saw you in Covent Garden, you deceived even me. Did you bind your breasts, Ivy?”
Ivy flushed. “Oi ‘ad to. When Oi first got to the rookeries, most blokes left me alone.”
“How old were you then?”
“Twelve.”
Cordelia poured a cup of tea, added a dollop of honey and gently pushed the saucer toward Ivy. “I know that drinking a good cup of tea in a civilized setting is not unknown to you, Ivy. The young woman I met in the meadow wore that gown like one who remembers fine things and better days.”
Ivy pulled the steaming cup toward her and clenched her fingers around it. “Oi …”
“Can you tell me where you lived before you went to Seven Dials?”
“Wiv me muvver. She died.”