Rosalyn by Carrie Lomax

Author:Carrie Lomax [Lomax, Carrie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Carrie Lomax

19

Alexander

“How many birds do you intend to dispatch this afternoon?”

Alex heard Eryx Wilder’s diminishing patience in the low drawl he affected when his friend wanted to be anywhere else.

“They’re clay,” he ground out. Another pigeon propelled into the air. He cocked his rifle and hit it.

“Not using the glass ball-and-feather variety anymore?” When Alex ignored him, Wilder pressed. “I trust you’re not imagining her face on every disc. Or shall I be obliged to report a threat to Miss Fernsby’s safety to her sister?”

“I’m not going to shoot anyone,” Alex muttered irritably. “I am merely reflecting upon my family’s many secrets, my own blindness, and my egregiously arrogant behavior this past summer.”

Wilder’s eyebrows shot up. He threw back his head and laughed. “I never thought I’d see the day when you, of all people, were humbled by a slip of a girl.”

Alex resisted the sudden temptation to drop the weapon and deck his friend. The one man in London—not that they were in town yet, the little season didn’t start for a few more weeks—who was still speaking to him. His rational brain asserted itself without difficulty: fighting with Wilder was likely to end with a sore jaw and ruined friendship, even if indulging the impulse would be momentarily satisfying.

Why couldn’t he have resisted the temptation of Rosalyn Fernsby as easily? Where in blazes had his reason and willpower been all summer?

Why hadn’t the fact that he was head over heels in love with her been enough to make Alex break his engagement and claim her?

And now, he had no excuse to pursue her further. The baby was an illusion, its loss devastating for reasons he couldn’t fully articulate. He loved the way Rosalyn cared for and protected her siblings. She was going to be a wonderful mother—to another man’s children.

For a few head-spinning days, he’d been convinced her surprise pregnancy would reunite them. Even though he knew better. The confirmation had come in a three-line letter this morning, the black-and-white truth setting off a storm of feelings on top of the ones he was already struggling to cope with.

Alex motioned to his footman to spring the trap. Another terracotta disc shot into the air. He sighted it and squeezed the trigger. A satisfying pop sent dust drifting on the wind.

“You’ll get grass stains on your trousers, rolling about like a dog,” Alex grumbled, envying his friend’s relaxed posture in the warm early autumn sunlight. He, by contrast, felt restless and anxious, as if his abdomen had been stuffed with too many buzzing bees.

Wilder blinked lazily. “A problem for my valet, not you. I must know, Alex. What prompted Miss Fernsby to throw a chamber pot at you?”

“It was a brazier, and it was empty,” Alex said evasively, sidestepping the question.

“Thank heavens for that. Otherwise, it would’ve been an insult of epic proportions.”

Alex scowled.

“Well, go on. Tell me,” Wilder insisted. “I want to hear what you did wrong.”

“I quoted Shakespeare at her. Specifically, Romeo and Juliet.”

Eryx winced. “Alexander, we fuck actresses.

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