Landing a catch like Talmadge Evans III got Eloise "Weezie" Foley a big house in Savannah's historic district. Divorcing him got her booted into the carriage house in the backyard. Tal, meanwhile, lives with his girlfriend, elegant Caroline DeSantos, in the mansion Weezie lovingly restored. For Weezie, letting her dog piddle on Caroline's prize camellias isn't payback enough.
Caroline Dawson survived the town gossips who whispered behind her back. She survived the slow death of her husband, Roscoe Lancaster, the richest man in the county and her senior by three decades. But she feared she might not survive Rink Lancaster, her husband's son. Years before she married, when she and Rink were teens, he had introduced Caroline to her first tremulous taste of love - and then broke her heart. Now Rink is back. He says he wants to settle his father's estate. But driven by a storm of emotions as undeniable as before and more dangerous than ever, what he really wants is to settle the score with Caroline.
Between 1625 and 1640, a distinctive cultural awareness of censorship emerged, which ultimately led the Long Parliament to impose drastic changes in press control. The culture of censorship addressed in this study helps to explain the divergent historical interpretations of Caroline censorship as either draconian or benign. Such contradictions transpire because the Caroline regime and its critics employed similar rhetorical strategies that depended on the language of orthodoxy, order, tradition, and law, but to achieve different ends.
Babson's 12th mystery has more geneological skeins than the Book of Genesis. Zita is painter David Fallbridge's second wife; Caroline, spoiled and irresponsible, his first. By her first marriage, Caroline had a daughter, Fanny. Now Caroline wants to marry gambling czar Xavier. To enliven the courtship, Caroline plans a cruise aboard her suitor's yacht and prevails upon the weak-willed Zita to babysit for Fanny, who is an obnoxious child. On the day David leaves for America, Fanny is kidnapped.
