Right Number, Wrong Girl

“Of course, my lady,” Rupert replied.

“Thank you. Will you request one of the valets bring my car around in five minutes?”

He bowed his head.

“Hugo, Henry, please get yourselves dressed properly before you assist Miss Hopkins with the provisional seating plan. Nancy, I’d like you to accompany me to the hair salon so we can go over my schedule for London.”

“Yes, my lady,” Nancy replied, clasping her hands in front of her body.

Everyone but me and Nancy filed out of the room, and I slowly let out a deep breath.

Nancy turned to me. “What is so important that you had to attempt to tell Her Grace several times?”

I swallowed. “I’m not Camilla.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “I’m sorry? Then who are you?”

“I’m Sophie. I took your original phone call.” I grimaced. “Camilla is my best friend and flatmate.”

She pressed her fingers to her temples. “Where is Camilla and what on Earth are you doing here?”

“She’s stranded in Norway.”

“That’s not something you hear every day.”

“Tell me about it,” I muttered, wrapping my arms around myself. “She went to visit family, but her grandmother is unwell, so she extended her stay. The day she was due to come home, a winter storm moved in over Scandinavia and all flights were cancelled. She did email you, but I’m not sure if any went through.”

One of Nancy’s eyebrows quirked up in disbelief, and she whipped a phone from the pocket of her smart, grey blazer, and tapped on the screen. Her expression changed from one of doubt to one of resignation, and that was followed by a sigh a moment later. “The email went to my spam, and there is indeed a storm. It says here that they’re due to resume flying tomorrow.”

“That’s good.”

“Yes, but it still doesn’t change the fact that you are not Camilla,” she said, putting her phone back in her pocket. “Here’s what we’re going to do. You’re going to do as Her Grace has asked you, and you’re going to ensure that your friend is here by the time she returns from London.”

I nodded, swallowing hard.

“You have four days. By which point you will have returned home, and Camilla will be in your place.”

I nodded again.

“Her Grace has a tendency to be rather… heavy-handed… and there is more than one witness to attest to her rather continuous interruptions of you.” Nancy folded her hands on her stomach. “It will be brushed off as a simple misunderstanding and miscommunication thanks to the weather and her lack of time. Now, I presume you do know what you’re doing here, do you?”

Absolutely fucking not.

“I do. I have all the information except for the decorating, but I’m going to contact Camilla immediately to get that.”

“Very well. And you’re staying at Bluebell Cottage?”

“Yes.”

“I will have the final guest list sent to you tonight, so perhaps it’s best to focus on something other than the seating plan with Lord Hugo.” She checked her watch. “I will call you at eight a.m. sharp tomorrow to check in to give an update to Her Ladyship.”

I couldn’t stop bloody nodding. “Yes. Of course.”

“Very well. I have to leave now.” She walked towards the door, then paused and looked over her shoulder at me. “Sophie?”

I swallowed. “Yes?”

“Don’t mess this up. Your best friend’s reputation is on the line here.” With one final glance over me, Nancy turned around and left me alone in the drawing room.