Excerpt from Fair Rosaline by Natasha Solomons, plus links to reviews, author biography & more

Rosaline stared at him confused, uncertain if he was playing a game. If it was a game, she did not understand the rules.

He stopped, his head bent low. "You leave me no choice. You have dishonored me and my family name."

As he spoke this, his voice low and heavy with regret, he stalked again toward her, and she found herself forced backwards along the path.

Rosaline could not believe that she had really caused offense; he must be in jest. She could not fight. The very thought was absurd. She almost laughed. "How have I dishonored you, my lord?"

His gaze met hers. "I am Romeo Montague." His hand rested easily upon the hilt of his sword. "Do you refuse to fight? Will you bring dishonor upon your house, young man of Verona?"

She shook her head, quite unable to speak. She touched her sword; she no longer felt like laughing. Her fingers were sticky on the hilt. She must have lost her gloves. Her heart roared in her ears. Romeo now appeared taller, broader than she'd realized, and he was dancing toward her on the balls of his feet. His smile gleamed in the early dawn light.

She glanced behind her and saw that they'd reached a small tower that appeared to lean precipitously to one side, like a chess piece about to surrender and fall. At first Rosaline thought the angle of the tower to be an effect of all the wine she had drunk, but as Romeo pressed her farther back toward the darkened entrance, she saw that it really leaned, half-toppled.

"Shall we?" asked Romeo, gesturing to the doorway. "In here is as good a place as any to fight a duel."

Rosaline felt truly sick now. She was not certain as to the rules of a duel but was almost sure she had the right to a second. But who could she call upon? Who would answer her? Not Valentio. Caterina?

Rosaline would not confess her sex to shun the fight, even if that meant death among these grotesques and apparitions.

"After you, my lord," said Romeo.

Rosaline stumbled into the leaning tower and at once found herself disordered. Through the window the horizon was atilt and misangled, the floor bent, and she staggered and almost fell. The world was topsy-­turvy, mad and broken, and she wondered if she had indeed fallen helter-­skelter into the underworld.

She looked back at Romeo and saw with horror that his sword was ready.

"You must draw," he said in a gentle voice lacking anger.

Doing as she was bid, Rosaline took a breath, wondering if it was to be her last. Within a second, she felt the sword wrenched from her grasp and clatter to the ground. She closed her eyes and waited for the blow that must come. She hoped it would not hurt, or not for long.

Instead she felt only the tug of the ribbons of the mask around the nape of her neck, the warmth of his fingers, his breath. She reached up to stay his hand.

"No, signorina, you lost."

Deftly he removed her mask and, taking her by the hand, drew her to the window where the dawn light was starting to break. He looked down at her and took her face in his hands. He stroked her cheeks gently with the pad of his thumbs, then caressed her eyebrows, then down the ridge of her nose to her top lip. He gave a small sigh. "Indeed, I do not know you, for I would remember such a face," he said. "Ah, the goddess Venus orbits us in heaven above."

He pointed upwards, where the last of the stars had been extinguished, only Venus still blinked in the brightening sky. "See? She witnesses the moment of our meeting." He kissed her hand.

Rosaline had never been spoken to in such a way before and stared at him, confused and aroused. "You knew I was not a man?"

He laughed. "Your lips…two rosebuds…are not those of a man. Your cheek…" Here, he paused with a frown. "My lady, there seems to be some grime smeared upon the perfection of your cheek."

Rosaline swallowed, aware that she was trapped in this peculiar tower with this stranger, and yet she trusted Romeo—­or wanted to so very much. The fight had been a mere game. Her heart was still thumping in her chest.

Excerpted from Fair Rosaline by Natasha Solomons. Copyright © 2023 by Natasha Solomons. Excerpted by permission of Sourcebooks. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.