Lynnette Overton was a pink of Society. It had been remarked among those who knew her that she was as merry as a cricket, and more than one gentleman of her acquaintance thought her quite taking in her own, straightforward fashion. No one had ever accused her of being a cabbagehead. Nor had it ever been said that she was so timid as to not say boo to a goose.
Yet even she was not one to take foolish chances.
Before she climbed into bed that night with a cup of chocolate and a copy of Mrs. Mordefi's newest sensational gothic novel, Lynnette locked her door. She was too taken by the glittering light of a full moon to...