‘I know. I should have told you I was taking a position as headmistress. I knew you would disapprove, and so I stayed silent. I was a coward.’
‘Don’t bully her,’ Olivia hissed, stepping away from Philippa to reclaim her seat.
‘A duchess does not bully. She expresses her opinions with conviction, and those who disagree eventually realise they are wrong,’ Philippa threw back. Looking at her seating options in the small but cheerful parlour, she took a wing-back chair near the low table, as far from Olivia as she could sit without leaving the room entirely.
‘Of course I would have supported you in finding useful work, Ivy. I just would have insisted you do so with reputable partners.’ Her gaze cut across to Olivia.
Ivy jumped in before Olivia could offer a rejoinder. ‘Philippa, how did you know I was here?’ Ivy knew Philippa had informants everywhere, but she doubted any of them would waste time keeping tabs on Ivy.
A knock sounded on the parlour door, saving Philippa from having to answer. The young lady they hired to help with daily chores poked her head into the room.
‘There’s a gentleman at the door. He says he’s here to speak with you, Mum. Looks like a right tight-arse if you ask me.’
Ivy’s cheeks coloured as a large hand pushed the door further open. Commissioner Worthington spared a withering glare at the scruffy maid. A tall, thin man with an almost invisible moustache and beautifully pressed jacket trailed behind the commissioner. He carried with him a smart leather satchel.
‘I’d say she’s got that very close to bang on.’ Philippa nodded at the young lady. ‘Very astute. Come in, Edward. We’ve been waiting. Who is this?’ She stared pointedly at the thin man whose ears turned an alarming shade of crimson.
Commissioner Worthington. He must have told Philippa I was here. The squealer!
‘My secretary. Mr Reading. Do not frighten him off, Philippa. He poses no threat to us.’
The commissioner’s familiar address with someone as lofty and powerful as a duchess was shocking. Ivy wasn’t privy to the exact relationship Philippa shared with Commissioner Worthington, but she gathered they’d known each other since childhood and that their feelings for each other were complex and contradictory. Commissioner Worthington’s shuttered gaze gave very little away, but the stiffness in his shoulders bespoke of something… interesting.
I am not interested in anything about the commissioner.
Her heart gave a curious thump, out of rhythm and rather resonant. No doubt it was brought on by Ivy’s nerves at having to recount the events of the prior evening.
‘It’s comforting to know your rudeness extends to all manner of people and isn’t solely focused on me, Your Grace.’ Olivia stretched her full lips into a wide smile, like a cat baring its fangs at a rival.
Philippa tilted her head slightly as if an insect stung her neck, but she resolutely ignored Olivia’s sharp barb. Her focus remained firmly on Commissioner Worthington. ‘I believe you have come to speak with Ivy. Shall we begin?’
Commissioner Worthington looked first at Philippa, then Olivia, before finally resting his gaze on Ivy. His intense regard unsettled her, making Ivy unaccountably aware of useless details. A fly buzzed lazily against the windowpane to her left in the stuffy room. Sweat trickled a slow track between her corseted breasts, tickling her skin in a most excruciatingly distracting manner. Prickles of awareness, like sparks of fire, burned behind her knees and under each arm. Perhaps she was going to faint. She desperately wished for a cold cloth to press against her forehead. Looking at the commissioner’s shoes, she noticed they were scuffed and dusty from the street.
‘We shall not commence this interview.’
Ivy jerked her head up. ‘Pardon?’
Commissioner Worthington’s square jaw flexed; his dark-blue eyes were still fixed on her. ‘I saidweshall not commence this interview.Ishall interview Lady Ivy Cavendale. Reading will stay and take notes. Everyone else will leave.’
Philippa and Olivia stood at the same time, both speaking over each other.
‘I most certainly will not,’ Philippa commanded.
‘What a witty jest,’ Olivia flattered.
‘This is no jest. It is a police investigation. I will not have Lady Ivy Cavendale’s testimony brought into question because I allowed a duchess and a marchioness to interject their thoughts and opinions at will.’ Edward turned to Philippa. ‘You know it must be done this way. I need you to trust me.’
Philippa? Trust a man?
Hardly! It is one of the few ways we are alike.
But unaccountably, the duchess tipped her head down in a subtle acquiescence.
‘Fine. I shall depart. But I expect to speak with you later, Commissioner. I will see you tomorrow, Ivy, for our weekly meeting. Nine o’clock, sharp.’ She noticeably ignored Olivia.
‘She is needed here.’ Olivia’s flirtatious tone hardened as she turned from the commissioner to face the duchess. ‘Ivy’s timetable is not yours to command.’
‘Nor is it yours, Lady Smithwick.’
