That’s the trouble with stories, especially the ones you write for yourself. Sometimes you think they’ve ended, when they’ve barely begun . . .
London, 1749. Following the murder of her husband in a violent street robbery, Hannah Cole is struggling to keep her head above water. The Punchbowl and Pineapple, her confectionary shop on Piccadilly, is barely turning a profit, and her suppliers are conspiring to put her out of business. So when she learns that her husband had a large sum of money in his bank account that she knew nothing about, the surprise is extremely welcome. And when William Devereux, a friend of her late husband, tells her about a new Italian delicacy called “iced cream”, Hannah believes it might transform the fortunes of her shop.
But her husband’s unexpected windfall attracts the attention of author-turned-magistrate Henry Fielding, who suspects the money was illicitly acquired. Unless Hannah can prove otherwise, her inheritance will be confiscated. As she and Devereux work to uncover the secrets of her husband’s double life, their friendship opens Hannah to speculation and gossip, locking her into a battle of wits more devastating than anything, even her husband’s murder.
