be quite so lucky. Like Cinderella, our magic will wear off soon enough and we will be exposed for the frauds we are. If we can secure Prue a position though…and buy enough time for Israel to find clothing and shelter…well, our time here will be well spent.
“I’ll put in a good word for you,” I promise. “Whatever good it may do.”
He smiles a smile that is full of sunshine and good humor and at least a couple of missing teeth. “I like you. You make me think of Lady Halloway. She was tall like you and had dark hair too.”
“And what happened to Lady Halloway?”
“She ran off with the livery man ,” Oliver explains, matter of factly. “Terrible scandal it was.”
“Oh lovely,” I retort, sarcastically. “I remind you of a scandalous trollop, is that right?”
Oliver chokes on his tea. “No, no, miss! Course not! I just meant she looked like you is all. Bout your size and coloring, that’s it, miss. Begging your pardon, miss.”
“No harm done, Oliver,” I smile. I reach over and pinch Dad hard on his leg. He has been sitting, sipping tea – probably wishing for something stronger – and not listening. “Did you hear that, Father? I’m the same size as Lady Trollop, I mean, Halloway. Isn’t that interesting?” I turn my attention back to Oliver. “I suppose Sir Halloway was dreadfully angry and gave away all her things?”
“No, it’s the opposite, miss. Why, he kept everything! Keeps her room a shrine to her, he does! Housekeeper tries to convince him to clean it all out, but no, he says. It’s a shame, it is.”
As imperceptivity as possible, I nod towards the door that Prue had been escorted out, my eyes on Dad.
‘A dress,’ I mouth.
And hold the corset, I add in my head.
Chapter Twenty
With mumbled explanations that are intentional in their vagueness, Dad has exited the kitchen in his shifty quest for dresses, and I am left with Oliver and Gertie. Gertie has taken to ignoring me, either because she does not like me or because she is embarrassed to have spoken so harshly to someone who may or may not be a lady of high standing. Oliver on the other hand, prattles on about this and that. Although I had taken him to be about twelve when first we met, I would now place his age younger. His gawky limbs are newly elongated, I’d wager, and he hasn’t grown into them yet. I remember those years, as I was a tall, lanky ten year old as well.
“You do seem a smart lad, Ollie. You don’t mind that I call you Ollie, do you?”
He beams, his missing teeth a mischievous asset to his mouth. He nods.
“Well, Ollie, I’m sure I cannot perplex you if I tried, you being so very smart. What is four times two?”
He responds correctly.
“And what is the name of the third month of the year?”
Again, correct.
“And the date, Ollie? What is the date today? Don’t forget the year now.”
Oliver scrunches up his face thoughtfully. “Well, the year, that’s easy. It’s 1887. And I know it’s December…I think it’s the twentieth of December? Is that right, miss?” He looks very anxious.
“You are a sharp lad! Well done, Ollie!” And well done, Sonnet, I think.
“And I’m sure you could spell the name of our dear city, now couldn’t you?” I am certain it’s just old London, but I would like to be very sure.
“L, O, N, D, I, N.” Ollie grins.
“Close enough,” I smile. “Listen, I think I hear your master approaching. We must look very busy and angelic.” I wink at him. So much for my haughty lady impersonation; my new friend is simply too appealing to not want to be his friend. And I will need a friend in time.
“Please come this way, miss,” says Sir Halloway as his reed thin frame reappears in the doorway of the kitchen once again. “Your father?”
“Looking for you it seems,” I adopt my regal, snooty bearing and up my accent a notch. “He was quite cold and quite concerned for our mutual friend, Mrs-“
“o Broin? Yes, she’s with the good doctor now. Seems she is fine; nothing a rest won’t cure. Won’t you tell me though of what you saw? I do want to be quite sure that Oliver is reprimanded appropriately.”
I accept the offer of his arm and together we leave Gertie and Oliver.
“I expect, good sir, that Oliver was simply being an exuberant boy, on his way to run an