*Jayne*
I awaken tender, sore, and feeling remarkably lovely. Like a she-wolf who has been well and truly made love to. A small part of me pricks with guilt, but I shove it away. Seafort encouraged me to come here, to revel in the pleasure that Barkley can deliver. I can’t go back now, can’t return to what transpired the first night… the cold, calculated callousness of it.
I don’t want to consider what this month will cost me, will cost us all.
Reaching up, I tug on the bellpull. I clamber out of bed and go to the window. The rain has stopped. I will join Barkley for breakfast this morning. Perhaps we’ll return to the fair. Perhaps we’ll stay until nightfall and dance. So many possibilities loom. For the first time in three years, I want to embrace the potential of the day.
I recognize
