Sweet Madness: A Veiled Seduction Novel Read online

  PRAISE FOR THE VEILED SEDUCTION NOVELS

  Sweet Deception

  “Snow’s intriguing, brilliant heroine . . . [is] up against a man who is more than he seems. Snow adds the spice of seduction to the thrill of the chase, leaving readers anticipating the surprising climax.”

  —RT Book Reviews

  “One of the things that I love about Heather Snow is her ability to write beautiful, intelligent heroines that are an absolute delight to read. . . . I just can’t get enough of her writing.”

  —Night Owl Reviews (5 stars)

  “An intriguing mystery, a heartwarming romance, a touch of humor and a hero and heroine who are meant to be together all wrapped up in a fast-paced, well-written story make Sweet Deception a book you won’t want to miss.”

  —The Romance Dish

  “Heather Snow did not disappoint. . . . Her position on my ‘new favorite authors’ list is secure. . . . sizzling chemistry and sensual romance . . . beautifully evocative and smooth writing.”

  —Book Lovers Inc.

  “This book has so many pluses . . . murder, mystery, intrigue, and romance. . . . Heather Snow has yet another winner with Sweet Deception.”

  —Book Obsessed Chicks (5 stars)

  “Heather Snow is a genius with plot, characters, and intricate information. Readers must embrace the magic that is the romance of her words and appreciate the brilliance of her ability to write a mystery no one can figure out.”

  —The Reading Reviewer

  “What was I waiting for and why didn’t anyone tell me how great Heather Snow was? . . . This is just the type of historical I like to read.”

  —Under the Covers

  “Derick and Emma were completely enthralling. . . . If you haven’t yet picked up the Veiled Seduction series, please go out and pick it up.”

  —That’s What I’m Talking About

  “An unpredictable, unabashedly intelligent historical romance that, for me, surpassed Sweet Enemy. Loved it!”

  —Manic Readers

  Sweet Enemy

  “Historical intrigue and heart-pounding passion make Sweet Enemy a great read. Romance fans will love it.”

  —#1 New York Times bestselling author Julie Garwood

  “Heather Snow combines sizzling tension, witty dialogue, and achingly raw emotions for a passionate love story you’ll remember long after the last page.”

  —USA Today bestselling author Kathryn Smith

  “Newcomer Snow makes a mark on the genre. . . . The plot, with its tinge of mystery, matchmaking, and a bit of mayhem, will warm readers’ hearts.”

  —Romantic Times

  “Unlike so many other Regencies, almost everything from the setting to the characters to the suspense comes with a twist and never feels clichéd . . . a wonderfully emotional and intellectually satisfying read.”

  —All About Romance

  “A solid plot, well-developed characters, and deftly written setting . . . an excellent first novel. Readers will be delighted to add Ms. Snow to their list of must-read authors.”

  —BookPage

  “Sweet Enemy combines romance, history, and intrigue into one excellent read. Readers won’t be able to put it down. A fast-paced plot and captivating characters make [this] a must read for all historical romance fans.”

  —Romance Reviews Today

  “Liliana was a wonderful heroine and was so vastly different than the other historic heroines that I have read before. . . . This was a fantastic book and I still can’t stop thinking about it. . . . Heather Snow is definitely an author to watch.”

  —Night Owl Reviews

  “Sweet Enemy has it all—inventive plot, two wonderful characters, and a suspense thread that serves a real purpose and is integral to the story. Combined with solid writing and a romance that soars, this is one of the best books of the year so far.”

  —The Romance Reader

  “Amusing, delightful, and charming. . . . The characters are well developed and the writing is highly engaging. I was vested in the characters and their goals from the start.”

  —Manic Readers

  “A breath of fresh air with its clever and distinctive heroine.”

  —Fallen Angel Reviews

  “Sure to gain Ms. Snow many, many fans.”

  —Romance Junkies

  “An entertaining historical starring a wonderful independent female amateur sleuth and the target of her suspicions.”

  —Genre Go Round Reviews

  “Heather Snow has done a phenomenal job of writing characters a reader can connect with. Sweet Enemy is a must read for any historical romance fan!”

  —Fresh Fiction

  ALSO BY HEATHER SNOW

  The Veiled Seduction Novels

  Sweet Enemy

  Sweet Deception

  A VEILED SEDUCTION NOVEL

  SIGNET ECLIPSE

  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.

  First published by Signet Eclipse, an imprint of New American Library,

  a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  First Printing, April 2013

  Copyright ©Heather Snow, 2013

  Excerpt from Sweet Enemy copyright © Heather Snow, 2012

  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.

  SIGNET ECLIPSE and logo are trademarks of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  ISBN 978-1-101-61460-0

  PUBLISHER’S NOTE

  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 Web sites or their content.

  This book is dedicated to My Boys and My Girls. . . .

  To Jason and our amazing sons: I couldn’t have done any of this without your unflagging support and sacrifice. Thank you for encouraging me to chase my dreams. I love each of you so very, very much.

  To Karen, Keri, and Leigh, my fearless critique partners and, more important, my dearest friends: Thank you for pushing me to believe in myself and helping me to tell the story that needed to be told. You know I couldn’t have done it without you. Now the world (or at least the part of it that reads my books!) knows it, too.

  Acknowledgments

  Writing is certainly not a solitary journey, and I had some wonderful people along with me during the creation of this book:

  Special thanks to Christie Novak and Tatiana Henley, who were subjected to the roughest draft I’ve ever written, but who loved it anyway and helped me to see that there was a good book in there!

  Thanks to the ladies of #gasleak12: Erin Knightley, Erica O’Rourke, Eliza Evans, and Hanna Martine, for your amazing, super story mojo (and for having the good sense to leave that condo before we blew up!).

  Thanks to my parents, Tom and Sarah Fry, for all that you do.

  Thanks to Gabrielle Wingert, for helping keep my little darlings entertained while I was writing.


  Thanks to Georgina Green and Carolyn Deane Reece, who gave me not only encouragement along the way, but also the occasional (and completely loving) kick in the pants when I needed it.

  Thank you to my editor, Danielle Perez, who once again showed amazing faith in me—a sentiment that is priceless.

  And finally, thank you to all of the readers who reached out to tell me how much they were anticipating Penelope and Gabriel’s story—it is with you in mind that I write each and every word.

  Contents

  Praise for Heather Snow

  Also by Heather Snow

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Author’s Note

  Special Excerpt from Sweet Enemy

  Prologue

  Leeds, June 1817

  Yellow suited her. Gabriel Devereaux’s gaze followed the young woman’s lithe form as she floated around the dance floor in her partner’s arms. Her flowing skirts of lemon, shot with some sort of white embroidered flowers he couldn’t name, barely brushed the ground as she twirled in the moves of the waltz.

  He’d never liked blondes who wore yellow. They faded into their ensemble, like a monochrome painting that failed to draw the eye. Not so Lady Penelope. No, she seemed to glow, brightening everything and everyone around her like a ray of early-summer sunshine. Having known her but a few days, Gabriel had a feeling Lady Penelope was the type who refused to fade into anything.

  He was glad of it, for her sake. Michael had a tendency to overshadow most ordinary people.

  “Lusting after our cousin’s new bride, are you?”

  Gabriel’s jaw clenched with indignation as his gaze snapped to the man who’d sidled up to him. He bit his tongue against a stinging retort, however. The most scathingly witty rejoinder would be lost on Edward, anyway, even were his brother sober enough to comprehend it.

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Gabriel drawled lazily. Of course he wasn’t lusting after Lady Penelope, even if his skin tingled with inconvenient awareness as the happy couple twirled by. He fought the strange need to follow them with his eyes and instead turned toward his youngest sibling.

  Edward’s bulbous nose shone bright with the redness of drink. Gabriel frowned. When had the man become such a sot? The night was much too young to be so far gone. But even foxed as Edward was, his eyes glinted with a knowing look.

  Hell. Edward might have become a drunkard in the years Gabriel had been away, but his brother also knew him better than perhaps anyone. Edward must have seen something in his expression to speak as he had, and Gabriel feared he knew what it was.

  Jealousy.

  His gaze strayed back to the dancers as he lost the battle not to look. This time, however, he forced himself to focus on his cousin Michael, 3rd Baron Manton, whose teeth were bared in a beatific smile. And why wouldn’t he be in raptures? Michael, it seemed, had found love.

  And that was what Gabriel envied. Not the lady in specific, but the idea of her. Could finding the right wife bring back his smile?

  Not that I deserve that.

  Gabriel forced his gaze away.

  “Well, it’s too late now”—Edward sniffed, taking a healthy swig of what must have been some rather potent punch—“for both of us.”

  Gabriel glanced sharply at Edward, drawn by the hollow anger in the man’s voice. Surely he wasn’t saying . . . But Edward wasn’t looking anywhere near the dance floor or the newlyweds. Instead he stared toward the west corner of the ballroom.

  Gabriel followed his line of sight, wincing as he recognized his brother’s wife, Amelia, flirting shamelessly with a well-known rake.

  Edward tossed back the remains of his punch with a low growl, then wiped his mouth against the inside of his cuff. “Excuse me, brother,” he said curtly before stalking off.

  Hell and hell again. Gabriel made to follow. He was head of the family now, much as he didn’t relish the role. It was his duty to head off any potential scene that might spoil his cousin’s wedding ball.

  Gabriel slowed as Edward made an abrupt turn, in the opposite direction from his wife, and pushed out of a set of French doors into the night instead.

  He watched his brother’s departure with frustrated sadness. How things had changed, for all of them.

  “Lord Bromwich?”

  Gabriel jerked as a gloved hand slid over his forearm and gripped him lightly. He fisted his own hands before he even realized what he was doing.

  “Oh—I—” A nervous laugh bubbled from Lady Penelope’s lips, making her seem younger than her twenty years. Her pale green eyes widened at whatever she saw upon his face, and her hand fell away from his arm.

  Wariness swept over her expression, darkening her eyes much as a quick-moving storm cloud shaded spring grass into a deeper hue.

  And that made him feel much older than his own seven and twenty.

  He forced a smile, even as he forced muscles tensed to strike into relaxation. “Lady Penelope, forgive me. I—” What could he say? I’m sorry that I nearly just planted you a facer? Since the wars, he didn’t do well with the unexpected. “I was deep in thought and . . . didn’t hear your approach.”

  “Of course,” she murmured, but she didn’t show offense. No, rather she looked at him in a thoughtful way that nearly made him squirm. “And I startled you,” she continued, nodding slowly, as if in understanding. “How insensitive of me. Forgive me, my lord. I shall endeavor not to take you by surprise again.”

  Gabriel felt his brow knitting over the bridge of his nose. He didn’t know Lady Penelope well. Was she mocking him? Or was she simply being polite? Because she couldn’t possibly understand how the long years spent fighting on the battlefields of Europe had changed him, could she? He’d never spoken of it.

  “Now, however,” she said brightly, and to Gabriel’s surprise, she placed her hand on his arm once again. Her bow-shaped lips spread in a smile that seemed to burst through any cloud that still lingered over them. “I do believe you are meant to stand up with me for this dance.”

  Gabriel blinked rapidly at her sudden change in countenance. He couldn’t help but draw in a sharp, deep breath, quite dazzled by it. How could a simple smile dispel the remaining tension in his limbs? But it had, and more than that, it filled his chest with something . . . warm. Something pleasant. Something he was afraid to name.

  He was saved from trying as Lady Penelope tugged at him. “The dancers are already lined up.” Her blond head, with ringlets adorned by yellow violas, tipped toward the top of the room as she looked up at him expectantly.

  Of course. As head of his family, he was to partner his cousin’s bride as she led the next dance. That was why she’d approached him. Gabriel shook off the strange sense of connection he’d felt with her and hastened his step to follow.

  Unease curdled in his stomach as they reached the head of the line. Since the wars, he didn’t do well in ballrooms, either. In fact, he hadn’t even attempted to approach one since he’d returned from the Continent. It was all too . . . close. Too many people jostling about for space. Too much noise. His chest tightened painfully.

  But he hadn’t been able to refuse his place at a family wedding. As they took their place perpendicular to the split line of dancers, Lady Penelope slipped her hand in his and raised their joined arms. A fine sheen of sweat chilled the back of his n
eck.

  Time to gird your loins, old man. All he had to do was make it through this one dance, and then he could retire for the evening.

  He waited for the dizziness, prepared to fight off the vertigo that usually assailed him when he stepped onto a dance floor. But strangely, it stayed away.

  The strains of violins filled the air first, joined almost immediately by the notes of a pianoforte in a lively tune he didn’t recognize. Gabriel did his best not to grimace, waiting to see what dance his partner would choose. He hadn’t danced in years and knew nothing of the current steps. He hoped she picked something simple that he could easily emulate without making an arse of himself.

  A flute piped up in merry accompaniment, signaling the start of the dancing.

  Lady Penelope squeezed his hand. “Never fear, my lord,” she whispered. “’Twill be over in a trice.”

  Before Gabriel could reply, she flashed her smile at him once more and bent her torso away from him. Then she turned in a vaguely familiar step. When she grasped both of his hands and pulled him into the move, his body went easily, willingly, as if his muscles remembered the dance from long ago.

  Only a few steps in and he realized that was because they did. Lady Penelope had chosen a simple country dance, popular in years past, and one that blessedly he knew. Relief washed over him, his cold sweat breaking into a warm one as she pulled him into the energetic skips and turns that left him unable to think of anything but the dance.

  Like a battalion of soldiers following their commander, the next set of dancers fell in behind them as they made their way down the line in the progressive dance, one pair after another, until all were stepping lively.

  All in all, the dance took nearly half an hour to complete. Gabriel would wager he smiled more in that thirty-minute span than he had in the previous month. But even more unusual—he hadn’t experienced the crushing fear he’d come to associate with ballrooms ever since that night on the Peninsula. Instead, blood coursed through his veins, exhilarating in a way he’d forgotten he could feel.