It's in His Kiss (Bridgerton Series #7)

It's in His Kiss (Bridgerton Series #7)

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by Julia Quinn

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Meet Our Hero . . .
Gareth St. Clair is in a bind. His father, who detests him, is determined to beggar the St. Clair estates and ruin his inheritance. Gareth's sole bequest is an old family diary, which may or may not contain the secrets of his past . . . and the key to his future. The problem is—it's written in Italian, of which Gareth speaks not a word.

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Meet Our Hero . . .
Gareth St. Clair is in a bind. His father, who detests him, is determined to beggar the St. Clair estates and ruin his inheritance. Gareth's sole bequest is an old family diary, which may or may not contain the secrets of his past . . . and the key to his future. The problem is—it's written in Italian, of which Gareth speaks not a word.

Meet Our Heroine . . .
All the ton agreed: there was no one quite like Hyacinth Bridgerton. She's fiendishly smart, devilishly outspoken, and according to Gareth, probably best in small doses. But there's something about her—something charming and vexing—that grabs him and won't quite let go . . .

Meet Poor Mr. Mozart . . .
Or don't. But rest assured, he's spinning in his grave when Gareth and Hyacinth cross paths at the annual—and annually discordant—Smythe-Smith musicale. To Hyacinth, Gareth's every word seems a dare, and she offers to translate his diary, even though her Italian is slightly less than perfect. But as they delve into the mysterious text, they discover that the answers they seek lie not in the diary, but in each other . . . and that there is nothing as simple—or as complicated—as a single, perfect kiss.

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Editorial Reviews

Publishers Weekly
Trust Quinn to deliver the most entertaining romance so far this year-and to set a high bar that other authors will have a tough time hurdling. Madcap, touching, laugh-out-loud funny and thoroughly satisfying on all emotional levels, her latest London-set historical focuses on Hyacinth, the eighth sibling in Quinn's bestselling Bridgerton family series (following When He Was Wicked). Too intelligent for her own good and best friends with Lady Danbury, one of society's most outspoken grande dames, Hyacinth is in her fourth season on London's Marriage Mart and again unimpressed by the male selection. Only Lady Danbury's handsome, pockets-to-let grandson Gareth St. Clair can hold his own in a conversation with her and sometimes even leaves her in a speechless, stomach-flipping state. When Hyacinth offers to translate the diary of Gareth's deceased Italian grandmother, the pair find themselves comparing notes, then exchanging kisses and finally burglarizing his estranged father's house at midnight. But the diary also holds secrets that could jeopardize their new love. Practically bouncing with humor, this book will keep readers happily on edge, waiting to see how the final unmarried Bridgerton will fare in Quinn's talented hands. Agent, Steve Axelrod. (July) Copyright 2005 Reed Business Information.

Product Details

HarperCollins Publishers
Publication date:
Bridgerton Series, #7
Sales rank:
Product dimensions:
4.18(w) x 6.75(h) x 0.96(d)

Read an Excerpt

It's In His Kiss

By Julia Quinn


ISBN: 0-06-053124-X

Chapter One

Ten years have passed, and we meet our heroine, who, it must be said, has never been known as a shy and retiring flower. The scene is the annual Smythe- Smith musicale, about ten minutes before Mr. Mozart begins to rotate in his grave.

"Why do we do this to ourselves?" Hyacinth Bridgerton wondered aloud.

"Because we are good, kind people," her sister-in-law replied, sitting in - God help them - a front-row seat.

"One would think," Hyacinth persisted, regarding the empty chair next to Penelope with the same excitement she might show a sea urchin, "that we would have learned our lesson last year. Or perhaps the year before that. Or maybe even -"

"Hyacinth?" Penelope said.

Hyacinth swung her gaze to Penelope, lifting one brow in question.


Hyacinth sighed. But she sat.

The Smythe-Smith musicale. Thankfully, it came around just once per year, because Hyacinth was quite certain it would take a full twelve months for her ears to recover.

Hyacinth let out another sigh, this one louder than the last. "I'm not entirely certain that I'm either good or kind."

"I'm not certain, either," Penelope said, "but I have decided to have faith in you nevertheless."

"Rather sporting of you," Hyacinth said.

"I thought so."

Hyacinth glanced at her sideways. "Of course you did not have any choice in the matter."

Penelope turned in her seat, her eyes narrowing. "Meaning?"

"Colin refused to accompany you, didn't he?" Hyacinth said with a sly look. Colin was Hyacinth's brother, and he'd married Penelope a year earlier.

Penelope clamped her mouth into a firm line.

"I do love it when I am right," Hyacinth said triumphantly. "Which is fortunate, since I so often am."

Penelope just looked at her. "You do know that you are insufferable."

"Of course." Hyacinth leaned toward Penelope with a devilish smile. "But you love me, anyway, admit it." "I admit nothing until the end of the evening."

"After we have both gone deaf?"

"After we see if you behave yourself."

Hyacinth laughed. "You married into the family. You have to love me. It's a contractual obligation."

"Funny how I don't recall that in the wedding vows."

"Funny," Hyacinth returned, "I remember it perfectly." Penelope looked at her and laughed. "I don't know how you do it, Hyacinth," she said, "but exasperating as you are, you somehow always manage to be charming."

"It's my greatest gift," Hyacinth said demurely.

"Well, you do receive extra points for coming with me tonight," Penelope said, patting her on the hand.

"Of course," Hyacinth replied. "For all my insufferable ways, I am in truth the soul of kindness and amiability." And she'd have to be, she thought, as she watched the scene unfolding on the small, makeshift stage. Another year, another Smythe-Smith musicale. Another opportunity to learn just how many ways one could ruin a perfectly good piece of music. Every year Hyacinth swore she wouldn't attend, then every year she somehow found herself at the event, smiling encouragingly at the four girls on the stage.

"At least last year I got to sit in the back," Hyacinth said.

"Yes, you did," Penelope replied, turning on her with suspicious eyes. "How did you manage that? Felicity, Eloise, and I were all up front."

Hyacinth shrugged. "A well-timed visit to the ladies' retiring room. In fact -"

"Don't you dare try that tonight," Penelope warned. "If you leave me up here by myself ..."

"Don't worry," Hyacinth said with a sigh. "I am here for the duration. But," she added, pointing her finger in what her mother would surely have termed a most unladylike manner, "I want my devotion to you to be duly noted."

"Why is it," Penelope asked, "that I am left with the feeling that you are keeping score of something, and when I least expect it, you will jump out in front of me, demanding a favor?"

Hyacinth looked at her and blinked. "Why would I need to jump?"

"Ah, look," Penelope said, after staring at her sister-in-law as if she were a lunatic, "here comes Lady Danbury." "Mrs. Bridgerton," Lady Danbury said, or rather barked. "Miss Bridgerton."

"Good evening, Lady Danbury," Penelope said to the elderly countess. "We saved you a seat right in front."

Lady D narrowed her eyes and poked Penelope lightly in the ankle with her cane. "Always thinking of others, aren't you?"

"Of course," Penelope demurred. "I wouldn't dream of -"

"Ha," Lady Danbury said.

It was, Hyacinth reflected, the countess's favorite syllable. That and hmmmph.

"Move over, Hyacinth," Lady D ordered. "I'll sit between you."

Hyacinth obediently moved one chair to the left. "We were just pondering our reasons for attending," she said as Lady Danbury settled into her seat. "I for one have come up blank."

"I can't speak for you," Lady D said to Hyacinth, "but she" - at this she jerked her head toward Penelope - "is here for the same reason I am."

"For the music?" Hyacinth queried, perhaps a little too politely.

Lady Danbury turned back to Hyacinth, her face creasing into what might have been a smile. "I've always liked you, Hyacinth Bridgerton."

"I've always liked you, too," Hyacinth replied.

"I expect it is because you come and read to me from time to time," Lady Danbury said.

"Every week," Hyacinth reminded her.

"Time to time, every week ... pfft." Lady Danbury's hand cut a dismissive wave through the air. "It's all the same if you're not making it a daily endeavor."

Hyacinth judged it best not to speak. Lady D would surely find some way to twist her words into a promise to visit every afternoon.


Excerpted from It's In His Kiss by Julia Quinn Excerpted by permission.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

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