trunk and shimmied up into the crotch before Caroline spotted him and darted over.
“Seamus McCann, you come down right now. It’s just about to—” lightning flashed, thunder cracked and the freezing rain began in a torrent, “—rain.”
Jamie wobbled and Caroline caught him by the back of his shirt and steadied him. When had he removed his warm coat and cap? Sleet stung Caroline’s cheeks. “Jamie, come on.”
This time, he obediently slid down into her arms.
“Get your things.” She set him on the ground and turned to see the others scurrying to re-don their outerwear. Wink had opened one umbrella and pulled Piers under it, while Tommy collected the bat and ball. Nell and Jamie shared the other umbrella and Caroline beckoned Tommy under hers. They reached the edge of the square before a gust of wind turned all three brollies inside out.
“Hurry.” Caroline checked for traffic, then urged them all across the street. Before they reached the middle, though, a closed coach raced around the corner at breakneck speed, bearing down on them.
The broken umbrellas and sporting goods were dropped as they all ran from the oncoming coach. Piers had been lagging a little, but now Tommy grabbed the younger boy and pulled him bodily out of the road, just as the carriage bolted past, splattering mud on Caroline’s clothing and even her face—it had been that close. Wet, cold and now terrified, they huddled next to the corner house catching their breath.
“Stubble propriety,” Caroline said through her chattering teeth. “There are no more crossings. Just run.” Lifting her skirts, she followed her own advice, her slick-soled boots and multiple petticoats assuring she was behind even Piers. Down one block and around a corner they ran, then up the marble steps to the front door of Hadrian House, where Tommy’s fist pounded, demanding entry. Johnson opened the door immediately, barely raising an eyebrow at the wet and muddy horde that tumbled in. When Caroline skidded into the foyer, the burly servant closed the door behind her and did his best to suppress a grin.
“Ask Sally to bring some hot chocolate up to the nursery, please.” At least that’s what she meant to say. Due to the cold, there was a good bit of stuttering involved. Caroline and Johnson both bent to help the children remove their sodden coats.
“What is the meaning of this debacle?” The thin, nasal voice was educated, but it was not Sir Merrick’s booming baritone.
Caroline looked up sharply. “I’d say the circumstances speak for themselves. Not, sir, that it’s any of your concern.” The speaker was of good height and had once, perhaps, been strongly built, though now he was quite lean, with a deeply lined face and a ring of salt-and-pepper hair surrounding a bald pate. Sir Merrick stood beside him, his face an expressionless mask.
“Soiled urchins should use the kitchen door, if they must be allowed to enter a house at all.” The older man thumped his brass-tipped walking stick on the carpet for emphasis.
“The front was closer.” Caroline finished stripping off Piers’s coat and handed it off to Johnson. Irritation was warming her rapidly. “And as at least two of these children have health issues, I was inclined to worry more about them than about the carpets. Now, Sir Merrick, if you please, we’ll be off to change into dry garments.”
Sir Merrick nodded at the children. “I need to speak with Tommy and Miss Bristol. The rest of you run along.”
They obeyed him instantly, dashing up the stairs in a clatter. Caroline handed her own serviceable cape to Johnson and stood rigidly, her features schooled into what she hoped was a polite expression. Beside her, Tommy stood, almost preternaturally still, though she could sense him watching, aware of every motion around him. This child was also gifted, though she’d yet to discover in what way.
“Miss Bristol, Tom, allow me to present Mr. Edwin Berry, who is to be Tom’s
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