expense.”
Mr. Cameron nodded eagerly before reaching for a quill and quickly taking down some notes.
Pierce returned his gaze to the letter in his hands.
I want you to be happy as well, old friend. Don’t forget to think about yourself every once in a while! It does not take away from the good man that you are. I’m certain of that. Otherwise, I would not trust you with my darling Charlaine. Remember that when she drives you mad with her opinions. Believe me, she’s got quite a few!
Farewell, my friend. I shall await you no matter where I end up. You decide if that’s a threat or a promise!
Peter
Postscript: Don’t forget to lock the windows. She’s a bit spirited, mind you. Good luck!
Pierce’s shoulders shook as he tried to contain the laughter. Oh, he’d missed Peter! The man was a breath of fresh air. No one knew how to rouse a man’s spirits better than him, and Pierce wished he could have seen him one last time.
But it was not to be.
Instead, Peter had entrusted him with the care for one he’d loved dearly. Charlaine had been like a sister to Peter and he had doted on her.
Spoiled her, to be precise.
No wonder the girl had opinions, Pierce thought, wondering what she was like today; a young woman, when all he could remember was the little, brown-eyed girl.
As the carriage sloshed through the same puddles on the way back—apparently, the heavens saw fit to drown London this night—Pierce pondered the thought of taking Charlaine into his household. Daphne would adore her, no doubt. But could Charlaine be happy in England? With him? Without those she’d loved? Was there any chance she still remembered him? She had been so young when he’d left.
Sighing, Pierce rested his head against the seat, marveling at the days that shifted the world off its axis and left nothing as it had been.
Albert would be livid.
Pierce chuckled at the thought, holding on to it over the course of the following sennight as London seemed to all but drown in torrents of rain. Oddly enough, it reminded him of the Caribbean. Perhaps Charlie could feel at home here after all.
Chapter Seven
In the Pouring Rain
“Caroline, wake up! Caroline!”
Sarah’s voice, urgent and somewhat anxious, slowly drifted into Caroline’s mind, jerking her from the pleasant oblivion of slumber. Within moments, her eyes flew open, blinking furiously against the almost blinding light from the candle Sarah had set down on her night stand. “What is it?” she murmured, yawning widely, her mind urging her to ignore the intruder and go back to sleep.
“A message arrived from the orphanage,” Sarah rushed to say, her eyes wide and her hands gesturing wildly. “Part of the roof has come down in the storm!”
In an instant, Caroline was wide awake.
Pushing back the blanket, she slipped out of bed and walked over to the windows, pulling back the heavy curtains.
At first, the night seemed like a black wall, shutting out all light before a bright flash zigzagged across the sky like a blade slicing through a dark piece of fabric, cutting it to bits. A moment later, a sharp crack cut through the air, making her eardrums hum with the wave.
Rain pelted her windowpanes, the drumming oddly soothing after the thunderclap a moment earlier. Still, the sight of the raging storm sent goosebumps up and down Caroline’s arms and legs, and she shivered, not because of the cold night air but because of the fear that slowly settled in her bones.
“What are we to do?” Sarah whispered fearfully, casting a tense look over her shoulder at the closed door to Caroline’s chamber.
Caroline’s mind spun. Indeed, what were they to do? If the roof had come down, did that mean someone had gotten hurt? Were the children safe? Somewhere warm and out of the rain? Or was the orphanage uninhabitable now?
“What, exactly, did the note say?” Caroline asked, spinning around to face her friend. She gripped Sarah’s upper arms to keep the young woman focused. “Who sent it?”
“I believe it was one of the nurses.”
Caroline had set up a secure line for her charities to reach her should the need arise. Part of her allowance went to a solicitor, whom they were to contact and who would then send a message in the name of a Miss Rawlings to Caroline so as not to arouse suspicions with her mother and father. At least during the day.
As there was no sensible reason for Caroline to receive any kind of