Married to the Viscountby Sabrina JeffriesAvon, 2014Habitual Regency romance readers run the risk of an occupational hazard: thanks to the somewhat Petrarchan strictures of the sub-genre, there's always the chance they'll eagerly snap up their next novel without realizing they've read it before.Romance publishers are aware of this hazard, and – we cast no aspersions – they're perhaps not entirely alarmed by it. They might – the scamps – abet it, as in the case of Avon's attractive new publication Married to the Viscount by the hugely talented Sabrina Jeffries, the cover of which shows an attractive young couple in a wood-paneled room delicately undressing each other. In the book, Abigail Mercer, daughter of the owner of a prosperous Medicinal Company in America (and herself part-Seneca Indian), meets Spencer Law, the fifth Viscount Ravenswood, and his younger brother Nat while they're in America in order for Nat to sound out Abigail's father for a possible business deal. Ravenswood's thoughts are back in England (where, as his brother jokes, he “runs England” from the Home Office), and although he finds Abigail attractive and interesting, he naturally assumes he'll never meet her again. So imagine his surprise, months later and in the wake of Nat's disappearance, when Abigail shows up at his London residence claiming to be his wife, married to him by proxy with his brother's authorization. When she announces this in front of a roomful of his dinner guests, she gets a stiff reaction:

“You know perfectly well that we're married.”His smile vanished. “I know no such thing.”Abby glanced to Mrs. Graham for confirmation, but the woman just stood there gawking at him, apparently struck dumb by his outrageous denial.Reminding herself she was as descendant of a great Seneca chief, she squared her shoulders. “Then perhaps you'd better explain what you meant in your letters when you said you wished to marry me.”The clouds rolled back over his brow. “I didn't write any letters to you.”

At which point, having been presented with such a juicy and memorable plot setup, the aforementioned habitual Regency romance reader's loitering memory will finally turn over its motor. Marriage by proxy! Purloined dowry! Missing brother! “I know no such thing”! Waaaaait a minute … surely this isn't the latest book in Jeffries' “Swanlea Spinsters” series – surely this is the first book in the series? Surely, those readers might finally find themselves thinking, we've read Married to the Viscount before?And if textual memory is a bit lagging, there's certainly nothing wrong with visual memory: back in 2004 when this delightful novel first appeared, its cover didn't depict the rather commonplace illustration of two young people undressing each other – instead, it featured something far rarer on Regency novel covers (as, one fears, in the Regency itself): a great big bathtub. On that earlier cover, the man – presumably Ravenswood – is kneeling beside a glistening tub in which luxuriates a beautiful woman we must hope is Abigail.Wooing in the bathtub – in its own way, that original Married to the Viscount cover is a romance novel classic, but its very memorability is probably the reason why the folks at Avon didn't want to risk reprinting it, lest a few too many readers instantly remember they'd already read the book.That mildest of venial sins notwithstanding, it's great good fun to revisit this book. Jeffries exuberantly fills her story with plots and subplots and dozens of memorable secondary characters, and she firmly keeps her focus on her two main characters as Ravenswood and Abigail decide to keep up a sham simulation of their “marriage” until Ravenswood can hunt down Nat and get to the bottom of what's going on. In all of her books, Jeffries most excels at the clash of strong personalities (in her addictive “Cynster” series, for instance, and especially in 2010's A Hellion in Her Bed), typified here by Ravenswood setting the record straight for Abigail about his thoughts on her mixed ancestry:

“Let us be straight on one thing. I've spent nearly half my life with people of all races and creeds. I've encountered 'savages' more wily than English spies, African women rivaling French courtesans for beauty, and Sikh lords as peace-loving as Quakers. I long ago learned not to make assumptions about people – including other Englishmen – based on their surface qualities. So your mother's race is of no concern to me.”

As Avon no doubt intended, this reprint makes a very attractive introduction (or re-introduction) to the Swanlea Spinster series. Can't help but wonder what it'll look like in 2024.