My dear Miss Bridgerton,

We have been corresponding now for quite some time, and although we have never formally met, I feel as if I know you. I am writing to invite you to visit me here at Romney Hall. It is my hope that after a suitable period of time, we might decide that we will suit, and you will consent to be my wife.

Did he think she was mad? Eloise Bridgerton couldn't marry a man she had never met! But before she knew it, she was in a hired carriage in the middle of the night, on her way to meet the man she hoped might be her perfect match.

Except . . . he wasn't. Her perfect husband wouldn't be so moody and ill-mannered, and while Phillip was certainly handsome, he was rough and rugged, and totally unlike the London gentlemen vying for her hand. But when he smiled . . . and when he kissed her . . . the rest of the world simply fell away. Could this imperfect man be perfect for her?