Lord Peregrine had never felt so conflicted in his life as he sat opposite Xenia on their short ride to their evening’s entertainment. No, he was not thinking about Xenia. As ever, his thoughts centred upon Miss Rosington. He glanced at his well-turned calves in his white silk stockings, above silver buckled shoes and below his black pantaloons. Carstairs used false padding to create what Perry had been granted in a generous allocation of physical attributes at birth. What would prompt Miss Rosington to choose that puny physical specimen Carstairs over himself? Then there was the opposite conundrum. If she spoke the truth when she declared she’d been the one deceived, could she truly believe Perry was behind her fall from grace? And if Miss Rosington had indeed been set up to appear a jezebel with Carstairs, then who stood to profit by her ruin? He directed a suspicious look at Xenia. She wanted Perry, there was no doubt about that. And yet …? Xenia was devious. Could she have had a hand in orchestrating something that appeared quite unrelated to her real motivations?
