Instead, the dirty, abandoned storeroom where they’d hidden for the night proved to be as uncomfortably real as the naked man curled feverishly in the far corner. Dark hair clinging, sticky with sweat, to his forehead and his left arm cradled protectively against his chest, he murmured in a restl...
JAMES’S PICCADILLY CHURCHYARD, LONDON OCTOBER 1816 Bianca paid off the hackney with the last shilling she’d tucked in her reticule that morning. She could only hope the rain that had threatened all day would hold off a few hours more. She didn’t relish a long, soggy trudge, especially since she’d...
“Where have you been?” “Out,” he growled. “I know we’re feigning an elopement, but you’re not my wife yet.” “What’s that supposed to mean?” She rolled over and sat up. “Have you been drinking?” “Yes, but not nearly enough.” “What’s wrong? Why are you so angry?” As she’d done earlier that night, s...
Tables had been prepared in a set of comfortable rooms with a buffet arranged for those who wanted refreshments between hands. Outside, snow swirled in a gale north wind that backed in the chimneys, now and then sending smoke rolling thin and high over the intent faces as they played. Sarah used ...