*Eden*
Seduce him.
The words are an endless litany whispering through my mind with the constancy of the sea always rushing onto the shore, only to retreat and return again. Seduce him.
Lying in the bed, I stare at the shadows dancing across the ceiling. Seduce him.
What do I know of seduction? I’ve acknowledged the young gentlemen of the village, but never encouraged their suit because I’ve always hoped to come to Blackrock City, to have a mating Season, to find a suitable mate. I’ve always planned to watch the other she-wolves in the ballroom and mimic them. I’ve always thought that when the time comes, my womanly instincts would rise to the fore and I would know exactly what to do to capture a man’s attention.
I’ve been restless all evening. I’ve read for a while, but can’t concentrate on the words. I’ve spent time on my needlework but haven’t been pleased with the stitches. Finally, I’ve unfolded the map that Mr. Swindler gave me and spent an hour tracing my finger over all the various streets. It’s a souvenir map. It shows where the Crystal Palace was built in the Grand Park to display the Great Exhibition. I wonder if he walked through it and saw all the marvels. I wonder what he’s doing tonight. Is he with friends or alone?
Is he in the company of a she-wolf?
I don’t like the unease that stirs within me at the thought of him with another she-wolf. It’s silly of me to be so possessive of a man I’ve only just met. Eventually, I prepare myself for bed and decide to brush my hair by the window in an attempt to relax. At home, I often sit by the window in my bedchamber, brushing my hair and listening as the roaring sea dashes against the cliffs. But tonight I haven’t heard crashing surf. All I’ve heard is the echo of Mr. Swindler’s promise to meet me tomorrow.
If not for my desire for revenge, I wonder if something more could develop between us. He’s handsome in a rough sort of way. Gentle, yet strong. At times I think he’s keeping himself tethered, that he wants to touch me in improper ways. I need to exploit whatever passions I might stir within him. The thought excites and terrifies me. I wonder if Elisabeth felt that way about Rockberry. Elisabeth wrote about how he stirred her passions, and then he used those very passions to betray her in the worst way imaginable.
I roll over in the bed, bring my knees up and slip my hand beneath my cheek. While brushing my hair, I’ve had the sense that I’m being watched, and I imagine it’s Jamie Swindler, yearning to be with me. Closing my eyes, I know sleep won’t arrive for a while, but I’m in no hurry to drift off. If Jay Swindler occupies my thoughts long enough, perhaps he will inhabit my dreams and ward off the nightmares that frequent me on a regular basis.
Perhaps in my dreams, he will even kiss me.
Dangerous, dangerous thoughts. Nothing more can exist between us, even if I wish it, because in the end, no matter what happens between us, he will despise me. I have a horrible, sinking feeling that I might despise myself as well.