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Her guilty heart raced. She was seeing things. Or was she? One of their bonnets was very military in silhouette.
Botheration. She had to hide. There was nothing else to be done.
“Carry on with your drawing, Michel,” she said. “I’ll return shortly.”
“Where are you going?” asked Adele.
“I need to... visit the hedgerow.”
Adele wrinkled her nose. “Why?”
“Never mind that, I’ll be right back. Quick as a wink.”
Mari fled behind the hedgerow.
Moments later, she heard footsteps. Her heart pounded. “Miss Perkins?” whispered Adele. “Are you hiding?”
“Yes,” Mari whispered.
Adele drew a few branches down and peered at her. “Oh...” She nodded sagely. “I understand now. You have tovisit the hedgerow.”
“Precisely. Now give me some privacy, if you please.”
Adele ran away. Let her think Mari was answering the call of nature. She had to hide. She just couldn’t take the risk.
She crouched low, praying that Mrs. Trilby wasn’t nearby. That she wouldn’t see the children and stop.
All was quiet. When she felt it was safe, she peered over the hedge.
She couldn’t see Mrs. Trilby or Miss Dunkirk, but the children had gathered a small audience in her absence.
Mari stepped out from behind the hedge, shaking twigs from her skirts.
The twins weren’t drawing anymore.
Michel sat cross-legged on the ground, wearing a white sheet tied over his clothing. He was blowing upon an oboe-like instrument with two reeds, which produced a high, thin melody.
Adele had shed her bonnet and was swathed in what appeared to be one of the red patterned damask curtains from the nursery.
What on earth?
There were letters scrawled across a paving stone next to Michel. Mari drew closer to read them.
SNAKES CHARMED.
PALMS READ.
TUPPENCE FOR THE THRILL OF A LIFETIME.
And next to the lettering, Michel’s cap, upended, with several coins inside.
Ohdear.This hadn’t been what she’d envisioned when they said they’d be showing her their talents.
Unfortunately, they were also showing them to perfect strangers in Hyde Park.
She had to put a stop to it, but in a way that wouldn’t make them feel like they were bad for doing it.
“Who will have their palm read by the all-knowing Lalla?” Adele demanded in a husky, mysterious voice. “Cross my palm with silver, ye who dare.”
