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 ...