*Eden*
Growing weary, I head toward the entrance to the pleasure gardens. It’s long past midnight. No one has approached me. No one has called me Elisabeth. No one has commented on the silver filigree. I feel as though I’ve failed a good many people, but I’m not certain what more I can do.
The gentleman to whom I was introduced on the way to Cremorne, the one who followed me as I took my leisurely strolls along one path and then the other, comes to stand beside me. He smells of rich pipe tobacco.
“Do you think Mr. Swindler had the right of it?” I ask.
“I’m afraid so, yes,” Sir David says.
I sigh, “It seems I’m as poor a judge of a man’s character as my older sister was.”
“Don’t be too hard on yourself. Men like Rockberry… both the previous Alpha and the present one… learn to hide wha
