‘The pretence is ended,’ she said, her dark eyes looking into mine. ‘I am no foreign lady, but my father is a stonemason in Exeter and there was one in that city I feared. So I fled and rode on a carrier’s cart all the way down to these parts. I amused myself by dressing in scraps of the brightly coloured cloth he carried and fell upon the notion that I should pretend to be some great lady from the East.’ ‘You were most convincing,’ I said to her. I could not help but admire her spirit and resourcefulness. She smiled and I saw that the smile was merry, creasing the tender flesh around her eyes. ‘What is your name?’ I asked. ‘Peggy.’ The smile vanished in an instant as though a sudden disturbing thought had crossed her mind. ‘Will you inform Squire Catton of my deception?’ ‘It cannot go on. And if it does, I cannot be a party to it.’ I saw a look of distress pass across her face and I knew I had to give her some assurance of my friendship.
