Haunted. That was how Madame Kindred looked to Luc. This evening she wore a black gown edged in gold lace. The color was all wrong for her in spite of the obvious luxury of the dress. It made her paler, highlighted the shadows of tiredness on her face, and dulled her hair. Luc pictured Léonard Basquet paying for such extravagance with a shake of his head and a grin, imagining the pleasure he'd have taking it off…
No, Luc reminded himself, Madame had likely paid for it herself, had it made at a Parisian modiste. She liked beautiful things, he could tell. Times had changed. Women no longer needed men's help to look beautiful, to feel lovely.
But he wouldn't mind taking it off of her. She smiled as she spoke with the captain and some of the other passengers, but the dark circles under her e
