The Secret Pearl

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.”

—Booklist

“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.”

—Library Journal

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 a 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

SLIGHTLY WICKED

“Sympathetic characters and scalding sexual tension make the second installment in [the Slightly series] a truly engrossing read.… Balogh’s surefooted story possesses an abundance of character and class.”

—Publishers Weekly

SLIGHTLY MARRIED

“Intriguing … [A] whimsical Regency-era romance … [filled] with homespun humor.”

—Publishers Weekly

“[A Perfect Ten] … 
Slightly Married
is a masterpiece! Mary Balogh has an unparalleled gift for creating complex, compelling characters who come alive on the pages.”

—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

NO MAN’S MISTRESS

“A pair of strong, equally determined protagonists clash exquisitely in this lively, passionate sequel to
More Than a Mistress.”

—Library Journal

“Deep emotions, strong characters and an unusual plot blend to perfection into another winner for this Jewel of the Highest Water, Mary Balogh.”

—Romantic Times
(Top Pick, 4 ½ stars)

MORE THAN A MISTRESS

“Luscious Regency-era delight. Balogh will delight fans and new readers alike with her memorable characters and fast-paced, well-constructed plot.”

—Booklist

“Assured hardcover debut … Smart, sexy dialogue.”

—Publishers Weekly

“Mary Balogh continues to reaffirm her place as an extraordinary star of the Regency genre.”

—Romantic Times
(Top Pick)

“Balogh has a winner here.”

—San Antonio Express-News

Other Books by This Author

T
HE CROWD OUTSIDE THE DRURY LANE THEATER had dispersed for the night. The last carriage, with its two occupants, was disappearing down the street. Those few theatergoers who had come on foot had long ago set out on their way.

It appeared that only one gentleman was left, a tall man in a dark cloak and hat. He had refused a ride in the last carriage to leave, preferring, he had told his friends, to walk home.

And yet he was not the sole remaining occupant of the street, either. His eyes, as he looked about him, were caught by a figure standing quietly against the building, her cloak a shade lighter than the night shadows—a street prostitute who had been left behind by her more fortunate or alluring peers and who seemed now to have lost all chance of a fashionable customer for the night.

She did not move, and it was impossible to tell in the darkness if she was looking at him. She might have swaggered toward him. She might have moved out of the shadows and smiled at him. She might have hailed him, offered herself in words. She might have hurried away to find a more promising location.

She did none of those things.

And he stood looking at her, wondering whether to begin
the solitary walk home he had planned or whether to engage in an unplanned night of sport. He could not see the woman clearly. He did not know if she was young, enticing, pretty, clean—any of those qualities that might make it worth his while to change his plans.

But there was her quiet stillness, intriguing in itself.

She was looking at him, he saw as he strolled toward her, with eyes that were dark in the shadows. She wore a cloak but no bonnet. Her hair was dressed neatly at the back of her head. It was impossible to tell how old she was or how pretty. She said nothing and did not move. She displayed no wiles, spoke no words of enticement.

He stopped a few feet in front of her. He noted that her head reached to his shoulder—she was slightly above average height—and that she was of slim build.

“You wish for a night’s employment?” he asked her.

She nodded almost imperceptibly.

“And your price?”

She hesitated and named a sum. He regarded her in silence for a few moments.

“And the place is close by?”

“I have no place,” she said. Her voice was soft, devoid of either the harshness or the cockney accent that he had expected.

He looked at her out of narrowed eyes. He should begin his walk home, make a companion of his own thoughts as he had planned to do. It had never been his way to copulate with a street whore in a shop doorway.

“There is an inn on the next street,” he said, and he turned to walk in its direction.

She fell into step beside him. They did not exchange a word. She made no move to take his arm. He did not offer it.

She followed him into the crowded and rowdy taproom of the Bull and Horn and stood quietly at his shoulder as he engaged a room abovestairs for the night and paid for it in advance. She followed him up the stairs, her feet light on the
treads so that he half-turned his head before reaching the top to make sure that she was there.