'Twas the Night Before Mischief

Book 3: Daring Hearts

by Nina Rowan

Genres: Historical Romance; Regency Romance; Historical Fiction

Synopsis

“A very sweet historical romance novel set right around Christmas” from the author of A Study in Seduction and A Passion for Pleasure ( Unconventional Bookworms). When Penelope Darlington is persuaded to elope with a most unsuitable suitor, she wastes no time. With visions of passion and adventure dancing in her head, she steals away in the middle of the night, just before her father’s Christmas feast. Fearing for his daughter’s reputation, Henry Darlington begs Darius Hall, the Earl of Rushton’s daring yet discreet son, to bring Penelope home. When Darius finally catches up to Penelope, he is shocked. She’s not the silly little girl he expected, but a beautiful woman with a sharp mind and an allure that cannot be ignored. Now forced to kidnap Penelope in order to bring her home, Darius and his new charge spend the next several days—and nights—in very close quarters. Penelope wanted passion and adventure, but she never could have imagined the pleasures Darius can provide . . . Praise for Nina Rowan’s Daring Hearts Novels “A rare combination of beautiful writing and hot sensuality.” —Eloisa James, New York Times bestselling author “I was so pleasantly surprised with A Study in Seduction, that I am so looking forward to the next book in the Daring Hearts series . . . I like a good mystery entwined with the romance, and that’s exactly what you get here.” — Under the Covers Book Blog “The erotic tension is hot.” — Publishers Weekly

Release date: December 10, 2013

Publisher: Forever Yours

Print pages: 103

Sample

Prologue

December 1847


The front door slammed shut. Twelve-year-old Penelope Darlington ran, ignoring the call of her governess behind her. She dashed around the pedestrians bustling through Oxford Street, not knowing where she was going and not caring. Wintry air knifed against her face and cut through the cloth of her dress and petticoats. She skidded on a patch of ice, righted herself, and kept running. She turned onto Regent Street. Her throat ached.


When she could no longer pull in another breath, she collapsed into the doorway of a closed butcher shop. Hugging her legs to her chest, she rested her forehead on her knees and struggled to swallow endless waves of anger and sorrow.

How could he? How could he?


Penelope swiped her eyes on her sleeve as a hard shiver shook her to the bone. She wasn’t wearing her coat or gloves. She lifted her head. A group of carol singers strolled down the street, voices rising in melodic cheer, and the aroma of cinnamon bread drifted from a nearby bakery. Across the street, a church stood with its doors open, light streaming from inside like a pathway.

Penelope pushed to her feet and went toward the church, welcoming the rush of warmth. Evergreens and lit candles decorated the nave, filling the air with the scent of pine and beeswax. Only a few people sat in the pews. Penelope slipped into the back row. Her breath still came in shallow gasps, and she scrubbed her hands together to try to warm her fingers.

She stared at the altar, the flickering light of the candles. A shadow fell across her as someone stopped in the aisle beside the pew.

Not Papa. Penelope glanced to her left, her heart sinking at the sight of Darius Hall. She’d all but forgotten he’d been in the workroom of her father’s confectionery shop when she’d fled.

Darius slid onto the pew beside her, his tall figure moving with the grace of a cat. Penelope stiffened and eased away from him. She couldn’t bear it if he tried to defend her father now, to justify what Henry Darlington had done without even telling her…

Darius didn’t say a word. He simply sat there, his hands in the pockets of his coat. Light reflected off the spectacles he wore, concealing his eyes.

The longer he sat without speaking, the more the tension slid from Penelope’s body. Silence, at least, was what she’d expect from this young man. At the moment, it was enormously comforting to have her expectations met since everything else fell so horribly short.

Her breath began to quiet, and for the first time she was grateful for Darius Hall’s reticence. Though her father had known the Earl of Rushton and his family for years, the five Hall children were all several years older than Penelope and therefore hadn’t become her close friends. They’d always been congenial and friendly, though, asking after her health and schooling.

All of them except Darius, the serious twin, twenty years of age, who didn’t look as if he knew how to smile. Penelope doubted he had an ounce of elusive Christmas cheer, but ever since he’d departed for Eton and Cambridge, in between various world travels, he always returned to London for Christmas. A visit to her father’s shop to discuss chocolate manufacturing processes and machinery was one of his first stops.

In the years that Darius Hall had been visiting Darlington’s Confectionery, however, Penelope had not often spoken to him.

“For what it’s worth,” he finally remarked, “she’s a kind lady.”

“I know.” Penelope’s heart ached. “My father wouldn’t marry an unkind woman.”

“Then what has you so upset?”

“He didn’t tell me he was planning to marry her.”

Darius glanced at her. “Didn’t tell you?”

“He returned from Bath this morning.” Penelope stared at a crack in the smooth pew before her. “He never said a word about it until Miss Carroll and I stopped at the shop a half hour ago. Then my father told me he’d married Mrs. Waters in Bath. I suppose he intended it to be a surprise.”

“Then it appears he succeeded rather spectacularly,” Darius replied, his voice dry.

A faint smile curved Penelope’s mouth. Her shoulders relaxed a bit more in relief that someone in the world understood. It hadn’t been just a surprise that her father had remarried and replaced Penelope’s mother. It had been an utter shock.


“So you don’t dislike the new Mrs. Darlington,” Darius said.

“No.” Penelope had no feelings for Mrs. Darlington at all. Formerly Mrs. Esther Waters, Penelope’s new stepmother had blond hair and wore gowns in different shades of blue. She had a nice smile, a gentle voice, and knew exactly how to conduct herself. She made Penelope think of the description of Augusta in Lady Caroline Lucy Scott’s Trevelyan, which her governess was reading to her—“if she imparted no charm to daily life, she at least never disturbed its peace.”


Rather like the type of woman Penelope thought she would one day become. Pleasant, respectable, and entirely unoriginal.

Not like her mother, who had shimmered with energy and recklessness. Who had lived in order to disturb the peace of daily life. Penelope imagined that her mother was creating quite a stir in the afterlife as well.

She glanced at Darius Hall. He didn’t seem as if he’d disturb anything or anyone, at any time, anywhere. He was the son of an earl, a young man who bore the burden of expectations and responsibilities. Penelope wondered if he ever felt caged by them. If he ever felt as if every emotion he had was being stifled by who he was supposed to be.

Darius shifted, reaching into his pocket. He removed a cylindrical package about the size of a carrot and wrapped in brown paper. He extended the package to Penelope.

Curious, she took it and tugged off the paper to reveal a plain cardboard tube.

“What…?”

“Open it,” Darius suggested.

Penelope broke open the tube. Several sugared almonds spilled into her lap amid a spray of colored paper and a small wooden frog. She couldn’t help smiling at the unexpected surprise.

“I arrived at the idea after seeing the way the French wrap sweets in twists of paper,” Darius explained, his voice quiet in deference to the silence of the church. “They call them bonbons. I thought it might be worthwhile for the holidays, given how popular the wrapping of gifts is becoming.”

“Clever.”

“I’m trying to improve the design.”

Penelope looked at the broken tube. “It ought to explode.”

“Explode?”

She nodded. “When you break it, the tube should make a noise of some sort. A bang. Letting everyone know that it’s been opened.”

“I’ve no idea how one would make that happen.”

Penelope twisted the paper around her finger. Charming little gift. Her mother would have loved it, but Penelope was surprised Darius Hall had invented something so frivolous. Like her father, he’d always been so intent upon the practical nature of manufacture—how machines could be used to make the process more efficient and inexpensive.

“Are you ready to return?” Darius asked.

Penelope put the gifts back in the tube and gathered up the bits of paper. His question needled her. Not “Do you wish to return?” but “Are you ready to return?”


Despite everything, Darius already knew that a quiet, obedient girl like Penelope Darlington would go back to her father eventually. It was just a matter of her readiness, because her angry flight from the shop was as . . .