The Viscount Who Loved Me: The Second Epilogue

( 66 )

Overview

Watch your toes, it's the Pall Mall Rematch!

Fifteen years have passed, but the Bridgertons are as devious and diabolical as ever when it comes to life on the croquet field. Join Anthony, Kate, Simon, Daphne, Colin, Edwina, and (of course) the mallet of death, as Julia Quinn shows that happily ever after can still be a little bit wicked... and a whole lot of fun.

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Overview

Watch your toes, it's the Pall Mall Rematch!

Fifteen years have passed, but the Bridgertons are as devious and diabolical as ever when it comes to life on the croquet field. Join Anthony, Kate, Simon, Daphne, Colin, Edwina, and (of course) the mallet of death, as Julia Quinn shows that happily ever after can still be a little bit wicked... and a whole lot of fun.

Read More Show Less

Editorial Reviews

Beth MacGregor
Captivating and alluring, The Viscount Who Loved Me is vintage Julia Quinn. Through their love for each other, Kate and Anthony let go of the past and overcome their fears and uncertainties, learning to seize the day and cherish the love they are blessed with. Hilarious and yet incredibly heart-warming, this is a tale that will charm the most discriminating heart.
Romantic Times
Jill Barnett
Julia Quinn is truly our contemporary Jane Austen.
Romantic Times
Captivating and alluring...Hilarious and yet incredibly heart-warming, this is a tale that will charm the most discriminating heart.
Rocky Mountain News
Captivating...wonderful characters and a delicious sense of humor.
Rendezvous
Wonderful, complex characters grace the pages of this titillating romance. . . Ms. Quinn is headed for super stardom.
Romantic Times
Captivating and alluring. . . Hilarious and yet incredibly heart-warming, this is a tale that will charm the most discriminating heart.
Rocky Mountain News
Captivating. . . wonderful characters and a delicious sense of humor. .
Romance Reviews Today
Two more perfect characters. . . a quirky, irrepressible heroine. . . a romance readers will not want to put down. . . Hooray Julia! .
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Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9780061537004
  • Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
  • Publication date: 7/17/2007
  • Series: Bridgerton Series , #2
  • Format: MP3
  • Edition description: Unabridged
  • Sales rank: 698,684
  • Ships to U.S.and APO/FPO addresses only.

Meet the Author

Julia Quinn started writing her first book one month after finishing college and has been tapping away at her keyboard ever since. The New York Times bestselling author of sixteen novels for Avon Books, she is a graduate of Harvard and Radcliffe Colleges and lives with her family in the Pacific Northwest.

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Read an Excerpt

Chapter 1


The topic of rakes has, of course, been previously discussed in this column, and This Author has come to the conclusion that there are rakes, and there are Rakes.

Anthony Bridgerton is a Rake.

A rake (lower-case) is youthful and immature. He flaunts his exploits, behaves with utmost idiocy, and thinks himself dangerous to women.

A Rake (upper-case) knows he is dangerous to women.

He doesn't flaunt his exploits because he doesn't need to. He knows he will be whispered about by men and women alike, and in fact, he'd rather they didn't whisper about him at all. He knows who he is and what he has done, further recountings are, to him, redundant.

He doesn't behave like an idiot for the simple reason that he isn't an idiot (any moreso than must be expected among all members of the male gender). He has little patience for the foibles of society, and quite frankly, most of the time This Author cannot say she blames him.

And if that doesn't describe Viscount Bridgerton--surely this season's most eligible bachelor-to perfection, This Author shall retire Her quill immediately. The only question is: Will 1814 be the season he finally succumbs to the exquisite bliss of matrimony?

This Author Thinks ... Not.

Lady Whistledown's Society papers, 20 April 1814

"Please don't tell me," Kate Sheffield said to the room at large, "that she is writing about Viscount Bridgerton again."

Her half-sister Edwina, younger by almost four years, looked up from behind the single-sheet newspaper. "How could you tell?"

"You're giggling like a madwoman."

Edwina giggled, shaking the blue damask sofa on whichthey both sat.

"See?" Kate said, giving her a little poke in the arm. "You always giggle when she writes about some reprehensible rogue." But Kate grinned. There was little she liked better than teasing her sister. In a good-natured manner, of course.

Mary Sheffield, Edwina's mother, and Kate's stepmother for nearly eighteen years, glanced up from her embroidery and pushed her spectacles farther up the bridge of her nose. "What are you two laughing about?"

"Kate's in a snit because Lady Whistledown is writing about that rakish viscount again," Edwina explained.

"I'm not in a snit," Kate said, even though no one was listening.

"Bridgerton?" Mary asked absently.

Edwina nodded. "Yes. "

"She always writes about him."

"I think she just likes writing about rakes," Edwina commented.

"Of course she likes writing about rakes," Kate retorted. "If she wrote about boring people, no one would buy her newspaper."

"That's not true," Edwina replied. "Just last week she wrote about us, and heaven knows we're not the most interesting people in London."

Kate smiled at her sister's naivete. Kate and Mary might not be the most interesting people in London, but Edwina, with her buttery-colored hair and startlingly pale blue eyes, had already been named the Incomparable of 1814. Kate, on the other hand, with her plain brown hair and eyes, was usually referred to as "the Incomparable's older sister."

She supposed there were worse monikers. At least no one had yet begun to call her "the Incomparable's spinster sister." Which was a great deal closer to the truth than any of the Sheffields cared to admit. At twenty (nearly twentyone, if one was going to be scrupulously honest about it), Kate was a bit long in the tooth to be enjoying her first season in London.

But there hadn't really been any other choice. The Sheffields hadn't been wealthy even when Kate's father had been alive, and since he'd passed on five years earlier, they'd been forced to economize even further. They certainly weren't ready for the poorhouse, but they had to mind every penny and watch every pound.

With their straitened finances, the Sheffields could manage the funds for only one trip to London. Renting a house--and a carriage--and hiring the bare minimum of servants for the season cost money. More money than they could afford to spend twice. As it was, they'd had to save for five solid years to be able to afford this trip to London. And if the girls weren't successful on the Marriage Mart ... well, no one was going to clap them into debtor's prison, but they would have to look forward to a quiet life of genteel poverty at some charmingly small cottage in Somerset.

And so the two girls were forced to make their debuts in the same year. It had been decided that the most logical time would be when Edwina was just seventeen and Kate almost twenty-one. Mary would have liked to have waited until Edwina was eighteen, and a bit more mature, but that would have made Kate nearly twenty-two, and heavens, but who would marry her then?

Kate smiled wryly. She hadn't even wanted a season. She'd known from the outset that she wasn't the sort who would capture the attention of the ton. She wasn't pretty enough to overcome her lack of dowry, and she'd never learned to simper and mince and walk delicately, and do all those things other girls seemed to know how to do in the cradle. Even Edwina, who didn't have a devious bone in her body, somehow knew how to stand and walk and sigh so that men came to blows just for the honor of helping her cross the street.

Kate, on the other hand, always stood with her shoulders straight and tall, couldn't sit still if her life depended upon it, and walked as if she were in a race--and why not? she always wondered. If one was going somewhere, what could possibly be the point in not getting there quickly?

The Viscount Who Loved Me. Copyright © by Julia Quinn. Reprinted by permission of HarperCollins Publishers, Inc. All rights reserved. Available now wherever books are sold.
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Table of Contents

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First Chapter

The Viscount Who Loved Me

Chapter One

The topic of rakes has, of course, been previously discussed in this column, and This Author has come to the conclusion that there are rakes, and there are Rakes.

Anthony Bridgerton is a Rake.

A rake (lower-case) is youthful and immature. He flaunts his exploits, behaves with utmost idiocy, and thinks himself dangerous to women.

A Rake (upper-case) knows he is dangerous to women.

He doesn't flaunt his exploits because he doesn't need to. He knows he will be whispered about by men and women alike, and in fact, he'd rather they didn't whisper about him at all. He knows who he is and what he has done, further recountings are, to him, redundant.

He doesn't behave like an idiot for the simple reason that he isn't an idiot (any moreso than must be expected among all members of the male gender). He has little patience for the foibles of society, and quite frankly, most of the time This Author cannot say she blames him.

And if that doesn't describe Viscount Bridgerton--surely this season's most eligible bachelor-to perfection, This Author shall retire Her quill immediately. The only question is: Will 1814 be the season he finally succumbs to the exquisite bliss of matrimony?

This Author Thinks ... Not.

Lady Whistledown's Society papers, 20 April 1814

"Please don't tell me," Kate Sheffield said to the room at large, "that she is writing about Viscount Bridgerton again."

Her half-sister Edwina, younger by almost four years, looked up from behind the single-sheet newspaper. "How could you tell?"

"You're giggling like a madwoman."

Edwina giggled, shaking the blue damask sofa on which they both sat.

"See?" Kate said, giving her a little poke in the arm. "You always giggle when she writes about some reprehensible rogue." But Kate grinned. There was little she liked better than teasing her sister. In a good-natured manner, of course.

Mary Sheffield, Edwina's mother, and Kate's stepmother for nearly eighteen years, glanced up from her embroidery and pushed her spectacles farther up the bridge of her nose. "What are you two laughing about?"

"Kate's in a snit because Lady Whistledown is writing about that rakish viscount again," Edwina explained.

"I'm not in a snit," Kate said, even though no one was listening.

"Bridgerton?" Mary asked absently.

Edwina nodded. "Yes. "

"She always writes about him."

"I think she just likes writing about rakes," Edwina commented.

"Of course she likes writing about rakes," Kate retorted. "If she wrote about boring people, no one would buy her newspaper."

"That's not true," Edwina replied. "Just last week she wrote about us, and heaven knows we're not the most interesting people in London."

Kate smiled at her sister's naivete. Kate and Mary might not be the most interesting people in London, but Edwina, with her buttery-colored hair and startlingly pale blue eyes, had already been named the Incomparable of 1814. Kate, on the other hand, with her plain brown hair and eyes, was usually referred to as "the Incomparable's older sister."

She supposed there were worse monikers. At least no one had yet begun to call her "the Incomparable's spinster sister." Which was a great deal closer to the truth than any of the Sheffields cared to admit. At twenty (nearly twentyone, if one was going to be scrupulously honest about it), Kate was a bit long in the tooth to be enjoying her first season in London.

But there hadn't really been any other choice. The Sheffields hadn't been wealthy even when Kate's father had been alive, and since he'd passed on five years earlier, they'd been forced to economize even further. They certainly weren't ready for the poorhouse, but they had to mind every penny and watch every pound.

With their straitened finances, the Sheffields could manage the funds for only one trip to London. Renting a house--and a carriage--and hiring the bare minimum of servants for the season cost money. More money than they could afford to spend twice. As it was, they'd had to save for five solid years to be able to afford this trip to London. And if the girls weren't successful on the Marriage Mart ... well, no one was going to clap them into debtor's prison, but they would have to look forward to a quiet life of genteel poverty at some charmingly small cottage in Somerset.

And so the two girls were forced to make their debuts in the same year. It had been decided that the most logical time would be when Edwina was just seventeen and Kate almost twenty-one. Mary would have liked to have waited until Edwina was eighteen, and a bit more mature, but that would have made Kate nearly twenty-two, and heavens, but who would marry her then?

Kate smiled wryly. She hadn't even wanted a season. She'd known from the outset that she wasn't the sort who would capture the attention of the ton. She wasn't pretty enough to overcome her lack of dowry, and she'd never learned to simper and mince and walk delicately, and do all those things other girls seemed to know how to do in the cradle. Even Edwina, who didn't have a devious bone in her body, somehow knew how to stand and walk and sigh so that men came to blows just for the honor of helping her cross the street.

Kate, on the other hand, always stood with her shoulders straight and tall, couldn't sit still if her life depended upon it, and walked as if she were in a race--and why not? she always wondered. If one was going somewhere, what could possibly be the point in not getting there quickly?

The Viscount Who Loved Me. Copyright © by Julia Quinn. Reprinted by permission of HarperCollins Publishers, Inc. All rights reserved. Available now wherever books are sold.
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Customer Reviews

Average Rating 3.5
( 66 )
Rating Distribution

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(20)

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(18)

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(18)

2 Star

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(9)

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See All Sort by: Showing 1 – 20 of 66 Customer Reviews
  • Posted April 18, 2009

    more from this reviewer

    Beware this item

    While I am sure that the book itself is probably good given other reviews, this download *is NOT* the book. It is a 41 minute epilogue to The Viscount Who Loved Me. I had not used the new digital download feature on this site before, so wanted to try this to see how the process worked. The download works fine, and you can burn a hard copy of what you purchase if you like, or transfer it from your computer to a portable listening device.
    If you read/listened to the actual book, you may enjoy listening to this epilogue, just know that it *is an epilogue.

    13 out of 13 people found this review helpful.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Posted July 21, 2011

    BIG RIP OFF!!!!!

    you only get a few pages and they don't tell you this when you order, they make it seem like it is a sale... very bad marketing! I ordered 3 of these $1.99 books of Julia Quinn and all 3 are only about 25 pages if that and you don't know it until you open the book. She was one of my favorite authors and I don't know if her organization has anything to do with it but I would say that she does... I will not order another one of her books. I hope that someone will be able to read this as I had a hard time opening these reviews so they are making that hard to read also... DON'T ORDER THIS!!!!!

    4 out of 5 people found this review helpful.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Posted July 18, 2011

    A ripoff

    This is another ripoff! Only a few pages. Poor marketing when it is not obvious to the purchaser that you are getting a teaser few pages not a book!

    3 out of 4 people found this review helpful.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted July 3, 2012

    I was reading the comments below on this book and i would like t

    I was reading the comments below on this book and i would like to point out that the title says The Viscount Who Loved Me: The Epilogue 2. If you knew what an EPILOGUE was you would know it isn't more that a couple of pages long. Also, you should always look at the comments before you buy something so you know what you're buying.

    1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted October 18, 2011

    love ms quinn

    you can't go worng if you love historical romances

    1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted September 22, 2011

    Really disappointment

    Book was only 20 pages long. Should have read the reviews first. Not even a good story line.

    1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Posted April 19, 2013

    Not what I was hoping for

    For the first thing, Kevin Brighting is a terrible narrator. I dislike him immensely. The other thing is the story. It is less than an hour long, and not in Julia Quinn's usual style and wit. It's simple and rather boring. Don't waste your time on this one.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted May 21, 2012

    Love it.

    Very good book.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted May 19, 2012

    Ripoff

    I was not happy when I found out there were only 20 pages to this story.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
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    Posted February 17, 2012

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    Posted July 30, 2011

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