Very much. I suspect they have all named the handkerchiefs on which they embroider after me, so they may happily puncture the fabric again and again. Well, all the ladies except Miss Coppins. She does not enjoy embroidery because she fears she will puncture her finger with the needle.”
Jessie’s eyes widened. “Oh, dear.” A grin overtook her face so suddenly I took a step back. “What have you done now?”
“Let us walk outside,” I said, helping her to her feet and handing her the crutches. “You are surely in need of fresh air, and the story I have to tell will be most invigorating.”
Jessie seemed to have gained a great deal of energy, following me out the door and up the stairs with little assistance. Despite the reputation servants had for gossip, I trusted Jessie entirely, and I needed someone to share the anxiety that had been unfolded upon me. I told her everything that had transpired—including the details of Mr. Hill’s connection to Mr. Baker and the false courtship we had concocted. Jessie’s limp had nearly disappeared by the time I finished, her eyes reflecting her shock.
“Sophia will not be pleased,” she said amid a chuckle of disbelief. “How will she explain to her parents?”
“I don’t know.” I put my forehead in my hands.
“Do you trust him?” Jessie asked.
“I do. Should I not? He seems very trustworthy.”
Jessie studied me for a long moment. “One may seem trustworthy. I suspect he thinks you are to be trusted. But little does he know, your name is not Sophia Sedgwick.”
My stomach dropped and guilt flooded through my chest.
“It’s not your fault, o’course.” Jessie touched my arm. “You’re not at liberty to tell him your real identity, and I wouldn’t trust him to keep a secret like that, at any rate. You could have the constable at your door if he wished it.”
“That is why he will never know,” I affirmed. And that is why he can never actually care for me, or I for him. With those words, I jostled the locks around my heart, just to ensure they were still secure.
“I wonder how Mistress Sophia is enjoying Hampden Park,” Jessie said in a distant voice. “If she’d seen Mr. Hill, I suppose she wouldn’t have ever sent you here in her place.”
“If she wanted him, she would have secured him too. Sophia is not one to accept defeat. She always gets what she wants. Her idea was foolish from the beginning to have me try to pretend to be her.”
“Mr. Hill’s idea to have you court him is foolish too.” Jessie chuckled. “All that pretending to be in love is bound to turn into the real thing sooner or later.”
My face flushed.
Jessie grinned. “Sooner, I’d wager.”
I shot her a scowl, shaking my head, though it spun at the truth behind her words. Before I could respond, we turned the corner beneath the archway where Mr. Hill had discovered me singing my first morning here. On the bench just beyond it, Miss Coppins sat, her ankles crossed, a book on her lap. She must have heard our approach, because the book was closed, and she was staring straight at us.
My stomach pinched with dread. Jessie did not have a talent for speaking quietly. Had she overheard our conversation? All she could have heard from her place on the bench were Jessie’s last words. Sooner, I’d wager.
“Miss Sedgwick.” Miss Coppins smiled. “Have you come to keep me company? It does get quite lonely out here when all the other ladies are embroidering. I have no desire to lose a finger.”
“I was just taking a walk with my maid.” I smiled.
“May I join you?”
There was no way to refuse in a kind way, so I simply stayed silent as she stood and hooked her arm through mine, not waiting for an invitation. I considered reminding her of the dangers of extensive walking, but thought better of it.
Jessie fell silent, bobbing a curtsy before stepping back to trail behind us. Not only did I hope that Miss Coppins hadn’t heard our conversation, but also how casually my ‘maid’ had been conversing with me.
“Why did you not join the other ladies in the drawing room this afternoon?” Miss Coppins asked.
“I—er—Mr. Hill was instructing me on my archery.”
“Oh, I was not aware.” Miss Coppin’s voice seemed to grow higher in pitch. “How fortunate you are to be the center of his attention.”
I bit my lower lip, unsure of how to respond. “Mrs. Ollerton has surely explained my