A reader pointed out that there's a grammar error on page 274 at the bottom: "He had rearranged herself and him," should be "herself and HIMSELF." I flunk undergraduates papers for this sort of thing...   Sylvie wrote me all the way from France to point out (and she should know) that petit mort on page 361 should be petite mort , the feminine version because death is female. Bummer. Besides my strong feeling that death should be male - think sickle, black gown, etc. - I got all my French checked over by someone who was supposed to know!   Kit points out that on page 131, Rees asks if Helene has published the pieces for four hands she was working on last summer - but that was actually in the spring. Rees and Helene first talked about the Beethoven sonatas in April, during A Wild Pursuit. The same mistake happens on 232.   Kit also pointed out that there is some confusion in the book about when Helene and Rees actually slept together for the first time. Did they stop in an inn on the way to Gretna Greene (i.e., before marrying), or did that terrible night occur on their way back from Gretna? The truth is that both participants in that awful night wiped it from their memories as best they could, and so there isn't very much information available at this point.   The biggest problem in this book will only exist in the first edition, if you manage to have a copy of that. It is that the first chapter of letters are all dated April, 1816, and the final chapter of letters (after everything has happened in the book) are dated January, 1816. ARGH! The last chapter should be dated January, 1817. If you are at all interested, this egregious oversight caused something of a flurry in the Harper Collins copyediting department, and now I am promised help by the very best with my future work.   Quite a few people wrote me wistful letters, wishing that the subplot of Your Wicked Ways could have received more space. This is one of those cases when a writer simply can’t judge what will happen: I was worried that people would be offended by the love between a priest and his brother’s mistress.   Back to Top

Your Wicked Ways
Book four in The Duchess Quartet
I'm the kind of writer who can't seem to think in terms of one book: I invariably design a world that takes up three or four books. This leads to a virtual web of connections between my books. So what I offer below is something of a family tree, a way of chasing the characters whom you particularly like through several books, or of figuring out why a character's name sounds so very familiar to you.

Warning! In describing relations between characters, I may wreck a book for you by making it clear who someone marries, or the outcome of a book. Please do not read about The Inside Take if you're wary of knowing who is paired with whom!

» My heroine, Helene, decides to cut off all her hair. She employs the same hairdresser used by Charlotte in my very first book, Potent Pleasures! I adore Cinderella makeovers and have to stop myself from putting a version in every novel.

» I got the idea to open the book with a chapter of letters from a brilliant mystery novel by the golden age novelist, Dorothy Sayers. Her Busman’s Honeymoon begins with a flurry of letters amongst the nobility of London, gossiping about the upcoming wedding of Lord Peter Wimsey, Sayers’ hero.

» Since this book was published, a few readers and reviewers have expressed dismay that Helene would go to the lengths of returning to her husband’s house under unpleasant and secret circumstances. What got me thinking about this was the plight of several of my friends. I’ve reached an age where I have friends undergoing invitro-fertilization for the fourth or even fifth time…so desperate to have a child that they wager all quality of life in the search. Helene is my imagined version of a 19th century woman with a similar passion.

» When I started this novel, I had only one scene in mind: that in which Helene tells her husband’s mistress that she’d like to borrow him for five minutes, and the mistress says that on a good day, Rees might take six or even seven. Obviously, I had set myself two enormous challenges, from a romantic novelist’s point of view: a hero who was less than terrific in bed, and a heroine who was talking to a fallen woman without fainting.

» The Earl of Mayne and his sister first appear in this novel and will reappear in my next series, which begins with Much Ado About You. Both Maybe and Griselda end up happily in love by the end of the Essex Sisters series.

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Romantic Times BOOKClub finalist for Historical Romance of 2004 Four weeks on the New York Times Bestseller List Four weeks on the USA Today Bestseller List

"The author takes on a formidable challenge writing a romance that blooms on the ashes of a disastrous marriage...Kudos to James. Her poignant story is a little out of the ordinary, but certainly worth reading."

-- the Oakland Press (posted April 18, 2004)

4 1/2 Stars and a Top Pick!
"James has another hit with this smart, sexy, humorous and poignantly romantic novel... James brings vivacity and sexuality to Regency England in a way few others can. Her brilliant writing, intelligent characters and boiling sensuality allow readers to feel every sensation with her characters. James' talents grow with each new book."

-- Romantic Times BOOKreviews (posted April, 2004)

Five Roses
"Ms. James employs a deft hand with the dialogue and wonderful plot construction. The characters leap off the pages in vivid detail, bringing their individuality to life."

- A Romance Review (April 2004)

"Bit by bit, Helene and Rees come to terms with the disastrous first year of their marriage, including Rees's lack of skill in the marital bed (which is refreshing for a romance hero), and they begin to wonder if their love can be rekindled... [James] solidifies her reputation as a top talent in the crowded field of humorous romances."

-Publishers' Weekly (March 8, 2004)

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18 March 1816
The Countess Pandross to Lady Patricia Hamilton

. . . my dearest, as to what you tell me of the exploits of Earl Holland, I can only say that nothing will ever surprise me. The former Countess Godwin (who was, as you know, one of my very dearest friends) would turn in her grave if she knew that her son were entertaining opera singers in her house! And I shudder to think that one of these infamous women may actually be living with him. How his poor wife is able to hold her head high, I shall never know. Helene has always showed edifying composure although I did hear a whisper -- just a whisper -- suggesting that she may request a divorce. I can't imagine how much that would cost, but Godwin must have at least 15,000 pounds a year and can probably afford it. At any rate, my dear, what I am truly longing to hear about is your plans for sweet Patricia's debut. Didn't you tell me that you were planning a ball for the weekend of the fifth? Mrs. Elizabeth Fremable tells me. . .

21 April 1816
Helene Holland, Countess Godwin, to her mother.

Dear Mother,
I am most sympathetic to your distress over the continuing debacle of my marriage. I fully recognize that my decision to elope with Rees brought scandal into the family, but I would remind you that the elopement was years ago. I am equally aware that a divorce would be far more grievous. But I beg of you, please accept my decision. I simply cannot continue in this fashion. I am heart-sick when I think of my life.

Your loving daughter,
Helene, Countess Godwin.

22 April 1816
Rees Holland, Earl Godwin, to his brother, a vicar in the North Country

Dear Tom,
Things are all right here. Yes, I know that you are fretting over my infamous reputation, but you will simply have to overlook my slurs on the family name. I assure you that my sins are even more plenteous than your pious correspondents have told you. Women dance on top of the table in the dining room daily.

Yours with all proper sentiment,
Rees.

22 April 1816
Miss Patricia Hamilton to Miss Prunella Forbes-Shacklett

Dear Prunes,
It is too bad of your mama to bury you in the country! When is she planning to bring you to town? I assure you that it is already very crowded here, and if one does not make an appointment, it is impossible to find a mantua maker who will even discuss a court gown. But Prunes, I met the most absolutely fascinating man yesterday. He is apparently quite, quite notorious -- a veritable rake! I am not going to put his name here, in case my abominable little brother obtains this letter before I mail it, but he is an earl and his initials are RH. You can look him up in Debrett's. Apparently he threw his wife out of the house some years ago, and now lives with an opera singer! My mother (as you can imagine) was in a flurry of anxiety and told me later not to even think of dancing with him, as there is talk of a divorce. Imagine: me dancing with a divorced man! Naturally I shall do it if the opportunity ever presents itself . . .

23 May 1816
Rees Holland, Earl Godwin, to Helene Holland, Countess Godwin

Helene,
If you'd like to see me, you'll have to come to the house, as I'm trying to finish a score that's needed in rehearsal directly. To what do I owe this charming, if unexpected, pleasure? I trust you are not going to request a divorce again, as my answer will be the same as the last. I'll tell Sims to wait for a reply as I think it doubtful that you will find the backbone to enter this den of iniquity.

Rees (should I say, Your Darling Husband?)

23 May 1816
Mr. Ned Suffle, Manager of the Royal Italian Opera House, to Rees Holland, Earl Godwin

Without putting undue pressure on you, my lord, I must have the score of The Quaker Girl by the end of this month latest.

23 May 1816
Helene Holland, Countess Godwin to Rees Holland, Earl Godwin

I shall visit you this afternoon at two of the clock. I trust you will be alone.

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