CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
Both the doorman and the valet held umbrellas high against the wind and rain that forced itself under the porte cochère. Claire was the first to alight from the carriage, with Mary and Polidori at her heels. They jumped across the gravel and up the stairs into the main reception of their villa as fast as they were able—all dripping wet from their prior dash between the tourist boat and the awaiting carriages. They looked a sorry mess—so much so that Mary was unable to suppress her laughter upon viewing her sister and friend in the ornate surroundings. The other couples rushed into the reception from their own carriage. “What an adventure,” one of them said, and everyone laughed and agreed.
“Best we collect ourselves and change before we catch pneumonia.” Doctor Polidori
