Title: A Precious Jewel 
Publication Date: 1993; re-issued 2009
Book Blurb:
Luck is a Lady
Once Miss Priscilla Wentworth had been a well-bred young lady. That was before family tragedy left her without shelter from poverty and want. Now Priscilla supposed she should count herself lucky that a gentleman like Sir Gerald Stapleton wanted her to be his most favored favorite-someone who was worthy of being his mistress. But Priscilla was not foolish enough to think that lucky in lust meant lucky in love-just as Sir Gerald did not dream that Priscilla could be anything more to him than a plaything of passion.
But though both Priscilla and Sir Gerald knew the ways of the world all too well, they knew all too little about the ways of the heart…
Why the Book is a Keeper:
Let’s be frank here—
Sir Gerald is a mere baron.
The love scenes between him and Priss are emotionally detached and mechanical. No great passion here.
Worse, he’s decidedly not very bright.
Hardly hero material.
And yet there is something about the awkward, hesitant love that grows between these two damaged people that makes for a compelling and unique read.
According to an interview, Balogh wrote this courtesan romance in two weeks!
Favorite Passage:
Sir Gerald takes Priscilla to his country estate:
He spent two whole days puzzling over the estate books in his study, a permanent frown on his face.
“Hazelwood explained it to me this morning,” he said to Priscilla when she went quietly into the room during the afternoon and tstood at his shoulder, looking down at the neat columns of figures. “But I never could make head or tail of accounts. I’ll understand them yet, though.” He continued to frown down at the book.
Priscilla scanned it over his shoulder. … They made perfect sense to her after five minutes. She could have explained them to Gerald. But she set one light hand on his head, her fingers playing with his hair, and stayed quiet.
“You don’t need to be here among all this man stuff, Priss,” he said after a while, sitting up and circling her waist with one arm. “Why don’t you put your bonnet on and go sit in the rose arbor? Am I neglecting you?”
“If you don’t mind,” she said, resisting only just in time the impulse to lean down to kiss his forehead. “I will fetch my embroidery, Gerald, and sit quietly in here with you. May I?”
He brightened. “Looking at your pretty face may inspire me with understanding,” he said.
Check out Balogh’s Lord Carew’s Bride at my website.
