by Mary Balogh
Dear Reader,
A Precious Jewel is that book of mine that insisted upon being written even though I knew it was quite impossible to write. Sir Gerald Stapleton was a minor character in The Ideal Wife, the hero’s best friend, who several times bemoaned the loss of Priss, his longtime mistress, after she had left him to marry another man. I had no intention of writing his story, much less of writing Priscilla’s. I was writing traditional Regencies at the time and could hardly have a working prostitute as a heroine and a beta male as a hero! When I tested the idea on a few fellow authors at a writers’ convention, they agreed with me wholeheartedly.
But I was haunted by those two characters to such a degree that finally I had to write their story anyway. And I couldn’t put it down once I had started. I completed it in two weeks! Then I put it up on a shelf to gather dust for a while, quite certain that my editor would have a fit of the vapors if she read it. At last I sent it in anyway and waited for it to be rejected. And waited…. When I finally called about it, I was told it was in copyediting. No rejection, no revisions!
That book became a great reader favorite in 1993, when it was first published. I hope you will still enjoy it today in this unaltered republication.
Mary Balogh
PRAISE FOR THE NOVELS
OF MARY BALOGH
SEDUCING AN ANGEL
“With her inimitable, brilliantly nuanced sense of characterization, elegantly sensual style, and droll wit, best-seller Balogh continues to set the standard to which all other Regency historical writers aspire while delivering another addictively readable addition to her Huxtable family series.”
—Booklist
“One of [Balogh’s] best books to date.”
—A Romance Review
AT LAST COMES LOVE
“Sparkling with sharp wit, lively repartee, and delicious sensuality, the emotionally rewarding At Last Comes Love metes out both justice and compassion; totally satisfying.”
—Library Journal
“At Last Comes Love is the epitome of what any great romance should be…. This novel will leave you crying, laughing, cheering, and ready to fight for two characters that any reader will most definitely fall in love with!”
—Coffee Time Romance
THEN COMES SEDUCTION
“Exquisite sexual chemistry permeates this charmingly complex story.”
—Library Journal
“Balogh delivers another smartly fashioned love story that will dazzle readers with its captivating combination of nuanced characters, exquisitely sensual romance, and elegant wit.”
—Booklist
“Mary Balogh succeeds shockingly well.”
—Rock Hill Herald
FIRST COMES MARRIAGE
“Intriguing and romantic … Readers are rewarded with passages they’ll be tempted to dog-ear so they can read them over and over.”
—McAllen Monitor
“Wonderful characterization [and a] riveting plot … I highly recommend you read First Comes Marriage.”
—Romance Reviews Today
“Peppered with brilliant banter, laced with laughter… and tingling with sexual tension, this story of two seemingly mismatched people struggling to make their marriage work tugs at a few heartstrings and skillfully paves the way for the stories to come.”
—Library Journal
“The incomparable Balogh delivers a masterful first in a new trilogy…. Always fresh, intelligent, emotional and sensual, Balogh’s stories reach out to readers, touching heart and mind with their warmth and wit. Prepare for a joyous read.”
—Romantic Times
SIMPLY PERFECT
“A warm-hearted and feel-good story … Readers will want to add this wonderful story to their collection. Simply Perfect is another must-read from this talented author, and a Perfect Ten.”
—Romance Reader
“With her signature exquisite sense of characterization and subtle wit, Balogh brings her sweetly sensual, thoroughly romantic Simply quartet to a truly triumphant conclusion.”
—Booklist
SIMPLY MAGIC
“Absorbing and appealing. This is an unusually subtle approach in a romance, and it works to great effect.”
—Publishers Weekly
“Balogh has once again crafted a sensuous tale of two very real people finding love and making each other’s lives whole and beautiful. Readers will be delighted.”
—Booklist
SIMPLY UNFORGETTABLE
“When an author has created a series as beloved to readers as Balogh’s Bedwyn saga, it is hard to believe that she can surpass the delights with the first installment in a new quartet. But Balogh has done just that.”
—Library Journal
“A memorable cast … refresh[es] a classic Regency plot with humor, wit, and the sizzling romantic chemistry that one expects from Balogh. Well-written and emotionally complex.”
SIMPLY LOVE
“One of the things that make Ms. Balogh’s books so memorable is the emotion she pours into her stories. The writing is superb, with realistic dialogue, sexual tension, and a wonderful heart-wrenching story. Simply Love is a book to savor, and to read again. It is a Perfect Ten. Romance doesn’t get any better than this.”
—Romance Reviews Today
“With more than her usual panache, Balogh returns to Regency England for a satisfying adult love story.”
—Publishers Weekly
SLIGHTLY DANGEROUS
“Slightly Dangerous is the culmination of Balogh’s wonderfully entertaining Bedwyn series…. Balogh, famous for her believable characters and finely crafted Regency-era settings, forges a relationship that leaps off the page and into the hearts of her readers.”
—Booklist
“With this series, Balogh has created a wonderfully romantic world of Regency culture and society. Readers will miss the honorable Bedwyns and their mates; ending the series with Wulfric’s story is icing on the cake. Highly recommended.”
—Library Journal
SLIGHTLY SINFUL
“Smart, playful, and deliciously satisfying … Balogh once again delivers a clean, sprightly tale rich in both plot and character…. With its irrepressible characters and deft plotting, this polished romance is an ideal summer read.”
—Publishers Weekly (starred review)
SLIGHTLY TEMPTED
“Once again, Balogh has penned an entrancing, unconventional yarn that should expand her following.”
—Publishers Weekly
“Balogh is a gifted writer…. Slightly Tempted invites reflection, a fine quality in romance, and Morgan and Gervase are memorable characters.”
—Contra Costa Times
SLIGHTLY SCANDALOUS
“With its impeccable plotting and memorable characters, Balogh’s book raises the bar for Regency romances.”
—Publishers Weekly (starred review)
“The sexual tension fairly crackles between this pair of beautifully matched protagonists…. This delightful and exceptionally well-done title nicely demonstrates [Balogh’s] matchless style.”
—Library Journal
“This third book in the Bedwyn series is … highly enjoyable as part of the series or on its own merits.”
—Old Book Barn Gazette
SLIGHTLY WICKED
“Sympathetic characters and scalding sexual tension make the second installment [in the Slightly series] a truly engrossing read…. Balogh’s sure-footed story possesses an abundance of character and class.”
—Publishers Weekly
SLIGHTLY MARRIED
“Slightly Married is a masterpiece! Mary Balogh has an unparalleled gift for creating complex, compelling characters who come alive on the pages…. A Perfect Ten.”
—Romance Reviews Today
A SUMMER TO REMEMBER
“Balogh outdoes herself with this romantic romp, crafting a truly seamless plot and peopling it with well-rounded, winning characters.”
—Publishers Weekly
“The most sensuous romance of the year.”
—Booklist
“This one will rise to the top.”
—Library Journal
“Filled with vivid descriptions, sharp dialogue, and fantastic characters, this passionate, adventurous tale will remain memorable for readers who love an entertaining read.”
—Rendezvous
WEB OF LOVE
“A beautiful tale of how grief and guilt can lead to love.”
—Library Journal
ALSO BY MARY BALOGH
The Huxtable Series
FIRST COMES MARRIAGE
THEN COMES SEDUCTION
AT LAST COMES LOVE
SEDUCING AN ANGEL
The Simply Series
SIMPLY UNFORGETTABLE
SIMPLY LOVE
SIMPLY MAGIC
SIMPLY PERFECT
The Slightly Series
SLIGHTLY MARRIED
SLIGHTLY WICKED
SLIGHTLY
SCANDALOUS
SLIGHTLY TEMPTED
SLIGHTLY SINFUL
SLIGHTLY DANGEROUS
A SUMMER TO REMEMBER
NO MAN’S MISTRESS
MORE THAN A MISTRESS
ONE NIGHT FOR LOVE
THE IDEAL WIFE
THE DEVIL’S WEB
WEB OF LOVE
THE GILDED WEB
THE SECRET PEARL
“IAM AFRAID SONIA IS INDISPOSED TODAY, SIR Gerald,” Miss Katherine Blythe told the young man when he was shown into her private sitting room instead of being admitted to one of the downstairs salons, as usual. “She has taken a chill from walking in the park yesterday without adequate protection from the cold wind. I would scold her roundly if she were not feeling so miserable, poor girl.”
“It was a chilly day yesterday,” Sir Gerald Stapleton agreed. “I am sorry to hear that Sonia is not well, ma’am. Will you give her my regards? May I see her three days from now if she is recovered?”
Miss Blythe sat back in her chair and looked assessingly at the young man who stood before her. He was of average height, slim and well-formed, fashionably dressed. His face was pleasant even if not startlingly handsome. His fair hair curled into no particular style, but it was soft and clean. She appeared to come to a decision.
“I have one girl who is unexpectedly free for the next hour,” she said. “Prissy has been with me for almost two months and is proving to be very satisfactory. Would you care to see her instead of Sonia for this evening, Sir Gerald?”
The young gentleman pursed his lips and considered for a moment. “I am afraid I am a creature of habit, ma’am,” he said. “I have been seeing Sonia for three months.”
“As you wish, sir,” she said. “I am sure Sonia will be recovered in three days’ time. I shall make the appointment for your usual time?”
He bowed. But he hesitated as he turned to leave. “Of course,” he said, “I have no other plans for this evening.”
Miss Blythe smiled at him. “Why don’t you go down to the blue salon, Sir Gerald?” she said. “I shall send Prissy to you there and you may talk with her for a while. If you do not wish to stay after seeing her, you need not feel obliged to do so. If you do, well then, she is free.”
He bowed again after nodding an assent, left the sitting room, and went downstairs to the blue salon, where a cheerful fire crackled in the hearth and took the chill from the March evening. He held his hands out to the blaze.
Perhaps it was time he tried someone new, he thought. He was indeed a creature of habit—he had told the truth in saying that. But he was also a man who feared commitment or obligation. He had avoided long-term relationships for all of his twenty-nine years and intended to do so for the rest of his life. Even his family relationships had never lasted long. Self-reliance was the only safe way to live, he had concluded long ago.
Yes, perhaps it was as well that Sonia was ill. Three months was quite long enough. Too long, perhaps. And when he thought carefully about the girl, he had to admit that there was nothing about her that he would miss.
He turned when the salon door opened. The young lady who stepped inside and closed the door quietly behind her seemed strangely out of place in Kit’s house. She was small and dainty and dressed in a pretty green muslin dress, the neckline in a high frill beneath her chin, the sleeves puffed at the shoulders and then extending straight to the wrists. Her face beneath her short dark brown curls was pleasant and smiling, her gray eyes candid. She was pretty in a wholesome way. Her skin was creamy with a blush of color high on her cheekbones. She wore no cosmetics.
“Sir Gerald Stapleton?” she said. Her voice was light and musical, another discordant detail in the house. “I am sorry for your disappointment, sir, but Sonia really is dreadfully ill. Would you like me to entertain you for this evening?”
“Prissy?” he said, bowing to her. He did not usually think of bowing to any of Kit’s girls. “It seems like a good idea, since I do not have any other plans for the evening.”
She smiled, revealing to him white and even teeth. The smile extended all the way to her eyes, so that he was given the feeling that she really was pleased.
“I am glad,” she said. “Will you come up to my room, sir? There is a fire there, too. It is a chilly evening, is it not?”
“Deuced depressing weather for March,” he said, following her from the room and up the stairs, and wishing for some unfathomable reason that he had omitted the “deuced.” The top of her head reached barely above his shoulders, he noticed.
“But how lovely to know that it is March,” she said, “and that summer is to come. And how lovely it is to see all the spring flowers in bloom when one steps out of doors. Daffodils are my very favorites. We used to pick them by the armful when I was a girl.”
She looked scarcely more than a girl now, he thought. She spoke in refined accents. But then all of Kit’s girls did. She trained them to lose their regional accents and coarse vocabulary and to give the illusion of being ladies. Kit’s house had a reputation for refinement.
The girl’s room suited her, Sir Gerald thought when she opened the door and preceded him inside. It was decorated all in shades of blue. It was pretty and comfortable without in any way being either fussy or oversensuous. Plain mid-blue curtains were looped back from the bed, which was turned down neatly, ready for use, to reveal crisp white bedsheets and pillowcases.
She closed the door as quietly as she had the salon door earlier. She turned to him with a warm smile.
“How may I please you, sir?” she asked.
Her breasts looked small beneath the high bodice of her dress. So did her waist. Her hips looked as if they might be shapely enough, though it was difficult to know what exactly lay beneath the loose skirt of her dress, which fell from a fashionably high waistline.
“Would you like me to undress?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said.
She turned her back on him, presenting him with the long line of buttons that extended from the neck of her dress to the hips. “Will you, please?” she said.
As he opened the buttons, he could see that she wore nothing beneath. She turned when he had completed his task, drew the dress off her shoulders and down her arms, let it fall to the floor, and stepped out of it.
Yes. Small breasts, but they were firm and uptilted. As he had suspected, her waist was small, her hips shapely. Her legs were slim, her stomach flat. There was none of the voluptuousness he normally expected of a whore. And none of the wiles, either—at least, not yet. She stood quietly for his inspection, her arms at her sides.
“Do you wish me to unclothe you, sir?” she asked.
He shook his head. “No.” He shrugged out of his coat and raised his hands t
o his neckcloth. “Lie down on the bed.”
She did so and lay quietly on her back there, watching him as he undressed. She did not cover herself.
“I don’t like any tricks,” he told her when he was almost ready to join her. “None of the little arts you girls know to make things proceed faster. I like to take it slowly at my own speed. All I want you to do is lie still.”
Of course, none of them ever did. They seemed to feel that they were not doing their job if they did not use at least some of their considerable arsenal of arts until his control deserted him. Or perhaps it was in their own interests to make their encounters as brief as possible.
She smiled that warm smile again as he climbed onto the bed and on top of her, reaching up her arms for him, accommodating her body to fit comfortably around his, easing up her hips so that he could slide his hands beneath her.
“It shall be exactly as you wish, sir,” she said. “I am here to give you pleasure.”
He pushed himself inside her, and she raised her knees to hug his hips.
And she was as good as her word. Blessedly, during all the minutes that followed, she kept herself still, though she was relaxed and warm and yielding, very softly feminine. There were no tricks either with hands or hips or inner muscles. She allowed him to satisfy his appetite in the way he most liked to do it.
He sighed against her soft curls eventually and relaxed his full weight onto her. After a few minutes, when he was still hovering in the blissful state between waking and sleeping, he felt her lift one foot and reach down with one hand. A smooth sheet and warm blankets were drawn up about his shoulders. He sighed again and slept.
Fingers smoothing through his hair woke him. He did not know how long he had slept. He was warm and comfortable. Her hair smelled good. She smelled good and felt good beneath him.
