“He wears a black mask and a harlequin’s motley and carries a wicked sword.” “Oh, indeed, there is.” Nell hoisted the sleeping babe in her arms higher. The cold winter night was frightening enough without the addition of specters. Nell had spent three years in a traveling company of actors and sometimes had a tendency toward melodrama. Giles haunts on nights like this,” Nell Jones, Temperance’s maidservant, said chattily as she skirted a noxious puddle in the narrow alley. Or, as in her own case, Temperance Dews reflected wryly, a combination of both. Giles at midnight was either very foolish or very desperate. Excerpt: Wicked Intentions Book 1: Maiden LaneĪ woman abroad in St.
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