Madelyn bowed to Mrs. Rose and her husband as they closed the door. Behind them, a cautious-looking man hovered. They had escorted her to an empty cabin as Mr. Brand had asked and Mrs. Rose had given her another set of dresses. Borrowed, she had said, as least, until they arrived at the docks.
For the first few seconds, she stood by the door, permitting her eyes to peruse the room.
It was small, newly tidied and vaguely furnished. She exhaled. It bore no resemblance to the empty storeroom that had been given to her at Widhalm Mount, nor the rented apartment in the American slump. It was a room graciously bequeathed her by a stranger, on a strange ship.
Slowly, she walked to the single window and pushed it open. The waters below slapped against the sides of the ship as it moved and the salty smell pushed at her. It was strong and weirdly comforting. The seas were the only consolation she had gotten from being married to Jeffery. It had provided the only comfort she ever got.
