20
Tom Linley lingered in the shadows of the servants’ stairs, his heart hammering wildly. A footman came down the steps and froze at the sight of him.
“You will know my servants by the silver star pin on their neckcloths.”
His master’s instructions were not something he would forget anytime soon. He stared hard at the footman and saw a silver star glinting near his throat.
“Lovely afternoon for a stroll,” he said.
The footman looked to Tom. “Indeed, but rain can always come from cloudless skies.”
“And a black sky sometimes doesn’t rain at all,” Linley agreed.
“Why don’t you give me a hand with polishing the silver?” The footman gestured to the silver cabinet, holding a set of keys.
Linley followed the man and waited for him to open the cabinet door. The footman glanced about, sear
