“One last pin,” Jessie said in a quiet voice. The pin scraped my scalp, and I found that I had grown much more sensitive to the pricks than I had once been. I grimaced as the metal scraped across my head and settled into place among all the others. She held up a small looking glass to my face. The style was one I often used on Sophia, and I had explained it to Jessie as best I could. She had very limited experience with the duties of a lady’s maid, but she had arranged my hair with surprising accuracy.
“You do look like a lady.” Jessie blinked fast when she circled to face me. “Perhaps Mistress Sophia was correct about your ability to succeed.”
I rubbed my hands over my skirts before pulling on Sophia’s old kid gloves. I flexed my fingers. “When my success rests on being unnoticed, I share her confidence. The area of my concern is in whether or not I will be able to behave properly for the entire trip.” I bit my lip.
“I’ll be sure to correct you if I see anything amiss.” Jessie smiled, letting out a long puff of air. “But I be nervous.”
“You are nervous?” I scoffed. “Perhaps you should be the one in this soft muslin gown and kid gloves. I feel like an imposter.”
Jessie laughed. “That’s because you are one.”
Right. An imposter. What would happen if that was discovered? Never mind the fact that I could tarnish Sophia’s name, but I would lose my position at Sedgwick Manor for certain, as would Mama. I could not ruin this. With luck, Mr. Hill would make his choice within the first week of my visit, and then the rest of my time in Bibury could be spent in peace.
When we stepped outside the inn, the air was cold. I wrapped my arms around myself, squinting up at the sky. I had thought winter had been left in the past, but small flecks of white floated in the air above, particles of snow. Thankfully, Sophia had sent me with a thick wool spencer. Jessie, however, shivered as we embarked on the final stretch of the journey. I offered her both blankets in the carriage, keeping warm enough with my fingers enrobed in leather and the thick, wool jacket. Despite the chill in the air, flowers had begun bursting among the grasses outside the window, growing more and more numerous as we rode closer to Bibury.
Sophia hadn’t been able to tell me very much concerning the house I would be living at for the next month, only that it was called Winslow House, and had only been described as charming by its owner, which gave her every reason to believe it was not actually charming.
At least not as charming as Hampden Park.
I focused on the passing countryside rather than the nerves spinning in my stomach. Sophia was expected to arrive last by Mrs. Sedgwick’s design—a grand finale, of sorts. I rather hoped my arrival felt more like an afterthought. Hopefully by the time I arrived Mr. Hill would have already selected his favorite from among the other young ladies. I comforted myself with that thought.
“That’s the village of Bibury.” Jessie’s quiet voice drifted toward me. I followed her gaze to the quaint village ahead, where rows of stone cottages sat huddled together, trailing along a garden path. The stone was the color of freshly baked bread, golden and bright in the afternoon sunlight. Small purple and white flowers dotted the surrounding bushes. The earth seemed to be drawing a deep and satisfying breath, as if it had been holding it in anticipation of this beauty for all the winter months. I clung my hands together in my lap, trying to replace my anxiety with excitement. No matter the circumstances, at least I would get to spend the next month near such a beautiful village.
Winslow house was just one mile away, and we arrived much quicker than I had hoped. I took a deep, quaking breath, and Jessie rested her hand on my arm. “You’ve nothing to dread, Tillie. You look the part of a lady. No one’ll suspect you of anything.”
It was acting the part that terrified me. Winslow House came into clear view out the window, fashioned out of similar stone to the cottages in the village, but much larger, nestled among newly awakened gardens, the colors bright and vibrant. Only a few branches were still bare, reaching toward the house like slender fingers.
As the carriage came to a stop, two footmen walked out the front doors, followed closely by a woman in an extravagant gown, her pale curls pinned atop her head. A minuscule, polite smile pulled on her lips.
I tried to imitate the expression, clutching handfuls of my skirts as the doors opened. Don’t be too elegant. Men are drawn to elegance, and you mustn’t give Mr. Hill anything that might draw his eye to you for even a moment. Sophia’s words coursed through my mind again as I stepped down onto the drive. The house appeared much larger now that it loomed directly in front of me, and the approaching woman appeared much more intimidating.
“Miss Sedgwick, is it?” Her chin lifted as she surveyed me, her slightly upturned nose pointing directly at the carriage as she glanced inside, a furrow overtaking her brow as Jessie stepped out. She peeked dramatically to both sides of the carriage interior. “Have you made this entire journey with only your maid?”
“Indeed, ma’am.” I attempted a note of confidence in my voice, but it still came out quiet.
Her lips pursed, but she didn’t make further comment on the subject. Instead, she led me over the narrow path that led to the front doors. The path was flanked with bushes and shrubs, the tips of the leaves covered in droplets of moisture, as well as three stone sculptures. My legs felt as if they had been turned to stone for how heavy they were, dragging me along behind Mrs. Ollerton. I corrected my posture when I noticed myself slumping. Elegant, but not too elegant.
“You have arrived just in time for tea,” Mrs. Ollerton said. “If you would prefer to rest from your journey first, you may, but otherwise, we will welcome you into the drawing room to meet the other young ladies, as well as Mr. Hill.” Her face lit up when she spoke his name, a hint of whimsy in her voice.
What was it about this man that could so easily lift the disdain off Mrs. Ollerton’s face in an instant? Though I supposed it wasn’t all that surprising. I had learned that women tended to pour out their judgements readily on other women but found far less to dislike in men.
“Which would you prefer?” Mrs. Ollerton asked when I didn’t reply.
It would likely be better for my goals to meet Mr. Hill now, rather than worry over it for another few hours. After all, he was sure to find less to admire about me at this moment, with my hair slipping from Jessie’s coiffure and smelling like the inside of a stuffy carriage. “I feel rested enough, thank you. I should be glad to meet the guests.” For the sake of my health, I could not allow my stomach to twist and my heart to pound for much longer.
Mrs. Ollerton gave me a knowing smile. “You have every reason to be eager, my dear.” She still wore her wistful expression as she led me toward the drawing room door. “Mr. Hill is a most handsome and amiable gentleman.”
“So I have heard,” I muttered to myself.
“Speak up, Miss Sedgwick. Men cannot abide mumbling. You must do all you can to make a favorable impression on him.” She turned to face me, her thin brows arching, as if to convey the seriousness of this situation. Little did she know that I had every wish to not make a favorable impression. I was to be invisible. Silent. Unnoticed.
“I will try.” I gave a weak smile, one that Mrs. Ollerton studied for a long moment before giving a huffed breath and turning toward the footman. She nodded, and he opened the door, revealing the quaint and heavily decorated drawing room. From the doorway, the entire room was visible. The floral wall papers, multiple vases and flowers, a large pianoforte, the small brown dog beneath it, and the five people who sat on an assortment of red sofas and gilded chairs surrounding the empty tea table.