Let it be Me (Blue Raven)

PRAISE FOR

If I Fall

“Thoroughly winning.”


All About Romance

“A unique tale . . .
If I Fall
is one to read.”


The Season for Romance
(Top Pick)

“Noble mixes humor, poignancy, murder, and mayhem in a quick-paced charmer . . . There’s plenty of action to keep pages turning.”


RT Book Reviews

Follow My Lead

“If Austen were alive and writing novels today, the result might be something exactly like
Follow My Lead
, a wickedly witty and superbly satisfying romance.”


Chicago Tribune

“Believable and captivating . . . An outstanding and memorable tale.”


Publishers Weekly
(starred review)

The Summer of You

“How many romances really, and I mean
really
, stir the heart? This one did.”


All About Romance

“Vivid and touching . . . Something new, something real, something genuine, something special and alive. It is worth savoring and appreciating.”


Smart Bitches, Trashy Books

“Will touch your heart and wring your emotions until you find yourself laughing and weeping simultaneously.”


TwoLips Reviews

“Sharp, clever, and adorable . . . Those who are big fans of Julia Quinn, Laura Kinsale, and Tessa Dare will want to pick this one up.”


Babbling About Books, and More

“A work that will touch your heart [and] make you laugh.”


Night Owl Reviews

“An absolutely beautiful love story and historical romance at its finest . . . You do not want to miss this one!”


The Romance Dish

“A delightfully charming romance . . . Adorable and clever.”


Romance Novel News

“Utterly romantic.”


Smexy Books

Revealed

“Not just a simple romance novel, it is a damn good one.”


The Book Smugglers

“Noble crafts an exciting, witty, and highly entertaining tale about an unlikely duo caught in a killer’s web.”


RT Book Reviews

“Full of action and adventure . . .
Revealed
has it all . . . Ms. Noble has real talent.”


Romance Junkies

“Fresh and lively and utterly delightful.
Revealed
will enchant lovers of the Regency novel, but I highly recommend it even for those who usually avoid this genre. Somehow, I think you’ll be hooked by this story as securely as I was.”


Fallen Angel
Reviews

“[A] terrific tale of ‘love and war’ that contrasts . . . Regency high society with the dangerous world of espionage.”


Midwest Book Review

Compromised

“Noble’s clever and graceful debut Regency romance is simply sublime.”

—Booklist

“A delectable and delightful debut! Every word sparkles like a diamond of the first water. I can’t wait for Kate Noble’s next treasure of a book!”

—Teresa Medeiros,
New York Times
bestselling author

“Kate Noble’s writing is smart and sparkling . . . Wonderfully entertaining, delightfully effervescent romance.”

—Amanda Quick,
New York Times
bestselling author

“An amusing historical romance . . . A lighthearted late-Regency romp.”


Midwest Book
Review

“Ms. Noble is a talent to watch. I look forward to her next book.”


Romance Reviews Today

Berkley Sensation titles by Kate Noble

COMPROMISED

REVEALED

THE SUMMER OF YOU

FOLLOW MY LEAD

IF I FALL

LET IT BE ME

Specials

THE DRESS OF THE SEASON

Let It Be Me

K
ATE
N
OBLE

THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP

Published by the Penguin Group

Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA

USA / Canada / UK / Ireland / Australia / New Zealand / India / South Africa / China

Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

For more information about the Penguin Group, visit penguin.com.

LET IT BE ME

A Berkley Sensation Book / published by arrangement with the author

Copyright © 2013 by Kate Noble.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

Berkley Sensation Books are published by The Berkley Publishing Group.

BERKLEY SENSATION
®
is a registered trademark of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

The “B” design is a trademark of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

For information, address: The Berkley Publishing Group,

a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,

375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.

ISBN: 978-0-425-25120-1

PUBLISHING HISTORY

Berkley Sensation mass-market paperback edition / April 2013

eBook ISBN: 978-1-101-61973-5

Cover art by Judy York.

Cover design by George Long.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

For those who believe that

just because something is difficult,

doesn’t mean it’s impossible.

Prologue

B
EFORE
there were ever words, there was music. A language in and of itself, music is the background to life, where emotion dwells. Through time, words evolved, and music—while ingrained in the flesh of every living thing—became a language only for those inclined to study it. To mold it into new formations, push the limits of what was known and what evoked feeling—but ultimately, anything created, no matter how technically perfect, has to be imbued with life. And that life, its presence, could be ascertained by the king most high or the peasant most common—because music, no matter the words put upon it, belongs to everyone.

Bridget Forrester believed that. She discovered it as a child, when the staccato rhythms of horseshoes on cobblestones set the beat to which she skipped. She practiced it over and over, the pianoforte her companion as she grew and became the woman she was meant to be. And during a lifetime of study, of listening and learning and feeling, no piece of music brought more life to the world than the four movements of Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony.

Long after her voyage to Italy was complete, music and love both made and stolen, yet returned in full, Bridget Forrester would look back on her life and realize that for a brief magical moment, she had owned the qualities of each of the movements of the Ninth Symphony, when she had needed them most: The first,
allegro
: quick and intense.
Scherzo
, second: rigid structure, but able to vary. Third,
adagio
: stately, but hopeful . . . and the fourth movement, the culmination of all that came before.

Over the course of her life, Bridget would hear Beethoven’s Ninth played dozens of times—on every occasion that it was being performed within fifty miles of London, her husband would arrange for them to attend. They heard it at least once a year. It was their piece. It was the sound to which they fell in love.

It was the culmination of all that came before.

In 1895, at age ninety, Bridget was nearly blind, confined to a wheeled chair, and missing her darling husband every day of the six years he had been gone. But she still had her ears. She could still hear when the door to her music room creaked open. She heard as her children’s children’s children would practice their scales on her beautiful pianoforte—careful to be delicate with it, as its keys were nearly a century old. Her own hands had long since failed her—their bones freezing in pain from playing the complicated rhythms that had once flowed from her fingertips. But her memory held. And, as she was too frail to attend concerts, it was her memory that sustained her—until the day of her ninety-first birthday.

Bridget’s youngest granddaughter, who was in her first Season and very keen on what was new and the latest, woke Bridget up from her afternoon nap by having burly men haul a massive contraption into her suite of rooms.

“It’s a phonograph!” her granddaughter cried, obviously very pleased with herself. “The latest invention from America!”

Bridget had heard of such things, of course—sounds recorded, as a photographic camera would take a person’s likeness. But surely it could not compare. Daguerreotypes always looked still, frozen and cold. Not like real people, or places in time. A phonograph was certain to be as disappointing.

But her granddaughter was very enthusiastic. And in the anxieties and trials of a first Season, it was all too rare to see the girl enthusiastic.

Thus, she squinted, watching her granddaughter as she put a waxed cylinder on a horizontal spindle, and set the needle. The sound was tinny, a single violin, like an echo of music being played from another room. But Bridget—her mind still sharp, her ears still perfect—slipped into memory, fell back in time, and heard the music of a full orchestra.

She heard Beethoven’s Ninth.

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