When I started Kathryn Smith’s latest book, I expected an emotional read since the author is known for creating rich and angst-ridden stories of the sort that many readers crave in this age of light comedy-romance. Unfortunately, while there are certainly elements of that richness in this story, some over-the-top plotting and an unnecessary reliance on romance novel stereotypes keep this book from being more than a slightly less than average read.

As the book opens, Wynthrope Ryland accepts a dare to ask a certain lady to dance and approaches Miss Banning and her chaperone Viscountess Aubourn to make his request. He is rebuffed by the ladies, but Moira, Viscountess Aubourn, finds herself rather taken with Wynthrope. When the two meet again at the home of her friend Octavia, the attraction becomes ever more apparent.

However, Moira and Wynthrope cannot be left to pursue their feelings in peace. In addition to the good-natured meddling of their family and friends (several of whom have books of their own, by the way), Wynthrope’s past catches up with him. In his younger days, Wynthrope acted as a thief for an accomplished fence in London and that fence returns to blackmail Wynthrope into agreeing to steal one last item. The item in question is a tiara belonging to a widow – the Viscountess Aubourn. Needless to say, Wynthrope is caught in a terrible situation. On the one hand, he loves his family and wants to protect them from a blackmailer. However, Wynthrope also finds himself falling in love with Moira and he is horrified by the idea of hurting her.

Moira and Wynthrope’s conflict-ridden tale certainly includes some very compelling moments. The opening sequence is well-done and a scene at Octavia’s house in which Moira literally falls into Wynthrope’s arms is wonderful. However, as the book moves along, it becomes clear that the most emotionally rich scenes in the book involve Wynthrope and his brothers (North, Brahm, and Devlin – apparently the Rylands have an aversion to anything approaching a normal name) rather than Wynthrope and Moira. The scenes between the two aren’t dull, they just don’t move one the way some of the other interactions do. Without throwing in spoilers, suffice it to say that Wynthrope’s scenes with his somewhat estranged brother Brahm are particularly moving.

Despite Kathryn Smith’s polished writing, it is difficult to really appreciate Wynthrope and Moira because they are hopelessly trapped in a book featuring several elements that will likely jerk readers right out of the story. First of all, Moira is a 33-year-old widow and, yes, she is indeed another of the Virgin Widows of Romanceland. While other authors handle such plot challenges with some degree of grace, Smith chooses instead to bring up Moira’s virginity over and over again. In fact, the first love scene comes as a relief because at least we don’t have to listen to Moira musing about her intact state any longer. While some of the traditions of romance are generally a good thing – the insistence upon virgin widows (whether by authors or their publishers [Attention Avon: Do you not get this?]) really is an insult to the intelligence of readers, especially when harped upon over and over again as it is here.

In addition, Moira can be a somewhat difficult character to like. Moira’s obsession with her figure is such that in modern times she would have been considered anorexic. Listening to her worry over food intake and her figure can perhaps move one to pity, but it does not make her a very satisfying heroine. Her mother may have been nitpicky, but Moira escaped her at about the age of twenty, so she’s had a good thirteen years to grow up and move beyond her childhood. She would have been more sympathetic had one been able to see a little of that progress rather than leaving Moira’s emotional maturity in a state of suspended animation pending the entrance of the hero into her life.

If that weren’t enough, enter Moira’s dearest friend Nathaniel, a stereotypically effete and flamboyant dandy who also happens to be openly gay. Homosexuality was a major scandal in those days, but the reader is expected to accept that even though he does not seem to be entirely discreet about his lifestyle, Nathaniel can be an accepted member of the ton. On top of that, none of the characters seem to have any problem with his choice of a lifestyle, and Moira acts as though she thinks it is all perfectly normal.

While I do admire Kathryn Smith for writing deeply emotional books and trying to do something different from the norm in her stories, this book just did not work for me. It certainly includes good elements, but some of the anachronisms and the reliance on the not-so-good old rules of romance writing keep In the Night from being a completely satisfying tale.