Someone to Romance

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by Mary Balogh




  PRAISE FOR

  THE WESTCOTT SERIES

  Someone to Honor

  “A strong, compassionate heroine and a hero who learns to appreciate his worth discover the true meaning of love in this tender, perceptive, and infinitely entertaining romance that delightfully continues the saga of the unconventional Westcotts.”

  —Library Journal (starred review)

  “Poignant, heartrending, hopeful, and quietly profound, the latest exquisitely written installment in Balogh’s Regency Westcott series is another sure bet for the author’s legion of fans as well as an excellent introduction for new readers to Balogh’s effortlessly elegant and superbly romantic brand of literary magic.”

  —Booklist (starred review)

  “This warmhearted addition to the Westcott series adds depth to a complex, congenial family.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  “Someone to Honor is classic Mary Balogh—the exquisite character development; the slow, romantic angst; the clever plot; the myriad of interesting characters.”

  —All About Romance

  “Someone to Honor has top-notch characters with a deeply moving story about love and family. This type of storytelling with characters whose stories suck you in is what makes a Mary Balogh novel so addictive.”

  —Fresh Fiction

  Someone to Trust

  “The balance between sweet and bitter produces a complex and winning love story.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  “The sheer perfection of Balogh’s prose in the fifth superbly written installment in the Westcott series marries her rare gift for crafting realistically nuanced characters to produce another radiant Regency historical romance by one of the genre’s most resplendent writers.”

  —Booklist (starred review)

  “With tenderness, humor, and infinite finesse, Balogh turns the classic younger woman / older man pairing on its well-worn ear in another sigh-worthy [novel] that readers are sure to savor.”

  —Library Journal (starred review)

  “The quiet, authentic intensity of the characters’ emotions is a hallmark of Balogh’s work, and it is a pleasure to experience each heart-wringing moment in this romance made for warming a winter night.”

  —BookPage

  Someone to Care

  “A love story nearly perfect in every way.”

  —Booklist (starred review)

  “A story that is searing in its insight, as comforting as a hug, and a brilliant addition to this series. Another gem from a master of the art.”

  —Library Journal (starred review)

  Someone to Wed

  “With her signature voice and steady pace, Balogh crafts a thoughtful, sweet Regency-era love story to follow Someone to Hold.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  “Balogh’s delightful ugly duckling tale may be the nonpareil Regency romance of the season.”

  —Booklist (starred review)

  Someone to Hold

  “Written with an irresistibly wry sense of humor and graced with a cast of unforgettable characters, the second in Balogh’s exceptional Westcott series, following Someone to Love, is another gorgeously written love story from the queen of Regency romances.”

  —Booklist (starred review)

  “This ‘Cinderella’ reversal story seethes with desire, painted paradoxically in the watercolor prose that is the hallmark of this author.”

  —Kirkus Reviews

  “This Regency romance dives deeper than most and will satisfy fans and new readers alike.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  “Balogh is, and always will be, a grand mistress of the genre.”

  —RT Book Reviews

  MORE PRAISE FOR AWARD-WINNING

  AUTHOR MARY BALOGH

  “One of the best!”

  —New York Times bestselling author Julia Quinn

  “Today’s superstar heir to the marvelous legacy of Georgette Heyer (except a lot steamier).”

  —New York Times bestselling author Susan Elizabeth Phillips

  “A romance writer of mesmerizing intensity.”

  —New York Times bestselling author Mary Jo Putney

  “Winning, witty, and engaging.”

  —New York Times bestselling author Teresa Medeiros

  “A superb author whose narrative voice comments on the characters and events of her novel in an ironic tone reminiscent of Jane Austen.”

  —Milwaukee Journal Sentinel

  “Mary Balogh reaches deep and touches the heart.”

  —New York Times bestselling author Joan Johnston

  “Thoroughly enjoyable.”

  —New York Times bestselling author Janelle Taylor

  “Balogh once again takes a standard romance trope and imbues it with heart, emotional intelligence, and flawless authenticity.”

  —Kirkus Reviews (starred review)

  “This touching, totally enthralling story overflows with subtle humor, brilliant dialog, breathtaking sensuality, and supporting characters you want to know better.”

  —Library Journal (starred review)

  “I loved this book. I read it in one sitting and it made me smile a lot and cry a little.”

  —Smart Bitches Trashy Books

  “Balogh always crafts stories that are powerful, poignant, and romantic, but what makes them extraordinary is how she beautifully balances emotional intensity with sensuality.”

  —RT Book Reviews (4½ stars, top pick)

  Also by Mary Balogh

  The Westcott Series

  SOMEONE TO LOVE

  SOMEONE TO HOLD

  SOMEONE TO WED

  SOMEONE TO CARE

  SOMEONE TO TRUST

  SOMEONE TO HONOR

  SOMEONE TO REMEMBER

  The Survivors’ Club Series

  THE PROPOSAL

  THE ARRANGEMENT

  THE ESCAPE

  ONLY ENCHANTING

  ONLY A PROMISE

  ONLY A KISS

  ONLY BELOVED

  The Horsemen Trilogy

  INDISCREET

  UNFORGIVEN

  IRRESISTIBLE

  The Huxtable Series

  FIRST COMES MARRIAGE

  THEN COMES SEDUCTION

  AT LAST COMES LOVE

  SEDUCING AN ANGEL

  A SECRET AFFAIR

  The Simply Series

  SIMPLY UNFORGETTABLE

  SIMPLY LOVE

  SIMPLY MAGIC

  SIMPLY PERFECT

  The Bedwyn Saga

  SLIGHTLY MARRIED

  SLIGHTLY WICKED

  SLIGHTLY SCANDALOUS

  SLIGHTLY TEMPTED

  SLIGHTLY SINFUL

  SLIGHTLY DANGEROUS

  The Bedwyn Prequels

  ONE NIGHT FOR LOVE

  A SUMMER TO REMEMBER

  The Mistress Trilogy

  MORE THAN A MISTRESS

  NO MAN’S MISTRESS

  THE SECRET MISTRESS

  The Web Series

  THE GILDED WEB

  WEB OF LOVE

  THE DEVIL’S WEB

  Classics

  THE IDEAL WIFE

  THE SECRET PEARL

  A PRECIOUS JEWEL

  A CHRISTMAS PROMISE

  DARK ANGEL/ LORD CAREW’S BRIDE

  A MATTER OF CLASS

  THE TEMPORARY WIFE/

&nb
sp; A PROMISE OF SPRING

  THE FAMOUS HEROINE/

  THE PLUMED BONNET

  A CHRISTMAS BRIDE/

  CHRISTMAS BEAU

  A COUNTERFEIT BETROTHAL/

  THE NOTORIOUS RAKE

  UNDER THE MISTLETOE

  BEYOND THE SUNRISE

  LONGING

  HEARTLESS

  SILENT MELODY

  A JOVE BOOK

  Published by Berkley

  An imprint of Penguin Random House LLC

  penguinrandomhouse.com

  Copyright © 2020 by Mary Balogh

  Excerpt from Someone to Love copyright © 2016 by Mary Balogh

  Excerpt from Someone to Cherish copyright © 2020 by Mary Balogh

  Penguin Random House supports copyright. Copyright fuels creativity, encourages diverse voices, promotes free speech, and creates a vibrant culture. Thank you for buying an authorized edition of this book and for complying with copyright laws by not reproducing, scanning, or distributing any part of it in any form without permission. You are supporting writers and allowing Penguin Random House to continue to publish books for every reader.

  A JOVE BOOK, BERKLEY, and the BERKLEY & B colophon are registered trademarks of Penguin Random House LLC.

  Ebook ISBN: 9781984802408

  Cover photographs by Richard Jenkins

  Cover design by Katie Anderson

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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  CONTENTS

  Cover

  Praise for Mary Balogh

  Also by Mary Balogh

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Westcott Family Tree

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Excerpt from SOMEONE TO LOVE

  Excerpt from SOMEONE TO CHERISH

  About the Author

  One

  Lady Jessica Archer was traveling alone across England toward London. Alone was, of course, a relative term. If she had been born male, she could have left Rose Cottage in Gloucestershire that morning astride a horse or perched upon the high seat of a sporting curricle, ribbons in hand, and no one would have batted an eyelid. When one had the misfortune to be a woman, however, there were always enough people and enough eyelids to bat up a storm.

  She was seated inside the carriage of her brother, the Duke of Netherby, the ducal crest emblazoned upon both doors, with Ruth, her maid. A brawny footman was seated beside a burly coachman up on the box, both men clad in the ducal livery, which was not subdued in color, to say the least. It blared upon the eye like a clarion might upon the ear.

  And then there were the two carriages bowling along behind her. The first conveyed Mr. Goddard, the duke’s personal secretary, who had the whole of the duke’s authority vested in his person when he was acting on behalf of His Grace, as he was currently doing. The coachman and footman upon the box of that carriage were hardly less impressive in girth than the first two.

  The third carriage bore all the baggage, which could have been squeezed into and upon the other two conveyances with a little effort—but why crowd them when there had been the spare carriage taking up room in the ducal carriage house? There was only a coachman upon the box of the baggage coach, but that might have been because he was a former pugilist and so broad and so fierce-looking with his once-broken nose and one cauliflower ear and several missing teeth that no footman fancied climbing up beside him.

  And then there were the outriders, also in the ducal livery, all of them large men upon large horses and appearing as though they might also have been professional fighters in the not-too-distant past. There were eight of them, two for each carriage and two to spare.

  Any highwayman seeing the cavalcade make its colorful way east along the king’s highway, not even trying to hide itself or tiptoe past any dangerous stretch without being noticed, would have either died laughing or else taken mortal fright and moved his business permanently to another part of the country.

  And this was what traveling alone meant when one was a lady.

  This was how it had all come about.

  Abigail Bennington, née Westcott, Jessica’s cousin and best friend, had given birth to a son, Seth, her first child, in late February, a little less than two years after her marriage to Lieutenant Colonel Gilbert Bennington. The Westcott family had been invited to the christening, a month later, in the Gloucestershire village outside which Abby and Gil lived at Rose Cottage, fortunately not really a cottage but more a manor. Even so, when a number of the Westcotts showed up, it was filled to the rafters, to use the phrase of Uncle Thomas, Lord Molenor. And it was a good thing, Aunt Viola, Abby’s mother, the Marchioness of Dorchester, had said, though a little sad too since neither Camille nor Harry, her other two children, had come, having decided to visit later, after the weather had warmed up a bit. Camille and Joel’s numerous children alone would fill a tent that would take up the whole lawn.

  Jessica had gone with her mother, the Dowager Duchess of Netherby—and a Westcott by birth—and with her brother and sister-in-law, Avery and Anna, the duke and duchess, and their four children. It had been a jolly week, the only real frustration for Jessica being that it had given her scarcely a moment to be alone with Abby. She had not seen her best friend for an age, though they exchanged long letters at least once a week. Abby had been a bit disappointed too, but it was Gil who had suggested that Jessica stay on for a few weeks after everyone else returned home.

  Simple, right? Jessica silently addressed an invisible someone seated opposite her in the carriage.

  Wrong!

  She would remain at Rose Cottage to give Abby her company awhile longer, Jessica had announced to her family. She was twenty-five years old, after all, and no longer needed to be coddled like a girl. Gil would hire a post chaise for her when she was ready to leave, and she would have her maid, Ruth, for company.

  Her family, alas—at least the vocal part of it (which, interpreted, meant the female part)—saw things quite otherwise. Jessica, for all her advanced years, could not possibly be allowed to remain behind, since that would mean her returning alone. Poor Ruth, apparently, counted for nothing. All sorts of harm might befall Jessica in the form of footpads or highwaymen or rude hostlers at inns or wild beasts or broken axles or torrential storms.

  “Besides which,” her grandmother, the Dowager Countess of Riverdale, had pointed out as though to clinch the matter, “it simply is not done for any lady to travel alone, Jessica, as you must be well aware. Even someone my age.”

  Grandmama was well into her seventies.

  Jessica’s protests had gone unheeded.

  “You cannot possibly stay here,” Jessica’s mother had said at last, a note of finality in her voice, “as much as I understand your longing to spend more time with Abigail—and hers to have you. I cannot possibly remain here with you. The Season is about to begin and I will need to get ready for the removal to London. So will you, Jessica. Perhaps we
can arrange something for another time.”

  Jessica had cringed at the very thought of going back to London in order to participate in all the glittering entertainments of yet another Season—her sixth. Or was it her seventh? She had lost count. It was not that she hated balls and picnics and concerts and all the other parties and such with which the ton amused itself during the months of spring, while Parliament was in session. But these entertainments could very quickly become repetitive and tedious. And one tended to see the same people year after year and wherever one went.

  Her continued single state was always more apparent in London than it was in the country.

  “Oh, Mama,” she had protested. Aunt Matilda had been smiling sympathetically at her, but it was not sympathy she had needed. It was a defender.

  That was when Avery—her brother, the duke—had come to her rescue. He had listened in silence to the family conference, sitting in one corner of Gil and Abby’s sitting room holding Beatrice, the newest addition to his family, while she sucked partly on her thumb and partly on one formerly pristine fold of his elaborately tied neckcloth. When he had spoken, it had been with what sounded like a sigh, as though he had found the whole proceeding excruciatingly tedious, as no doubt he had.

  “I daresay,” he had said, “you would all consider Jessica both safe from harm and properly preserved from scandal if she were to travel home in the ducal carriage with her maid while Edwin Goddard followed close behind in another carriage, each conveyance manned with a coachman and a footman upon the box, and half a dozen outriders to serve as escorts.”

  The Marquess of Dorchester, Abby’s stepfather, had chuckled. “All of them clad in the brightest ducal livery, I suppose, Netherby?” he had said.

  “But of course.” Avery had raised his eyebrows as though surprised that the matter could even be in doubt.

  “It is a splendid idea,” Anna had said, beaming at her husband and her sister-in-law. “Avery will send them whenever you are ready to leave, Jessica. How lovely it will be for you and Abby to enjoy some time together after the whirlwind of the celebrations during the past week.”

  And that had settled it. Though Avery spoke only rarely during family gatherings, when he did speak no one ever seemed to question his pronouncements. Jessica had never quite understood it. He did not look like an overwhelmingly powerful man or even behave like one. He was of only average height. He was also slight and graceful of build, with very blond hair and a face of angelic beauty. He might have looked . . . well, effeminate. But he did not, and somehow he wielded a great deal of power without ever having to bluster or bully or even raise his voice. Jessica suspected that most people outside his immediate family feared him but did not understand why any more than she did.

 

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