Lestat skimmed her mind, just barely. He'd thought it so, from her manner and her voice, but Honour was French. Had she been blonde, Lestat would immediately have been reminded of Gabrielle as the Marquise, the way she'd been in public.
It was a testament to her character that his previous mental nudges made her think she'd been too hard on him. Lestat liked her immediately because of this. She was inclined to think people were inherently good. The world needed more people like her.
He smiled back at her and began to dance her around the room. Even through the glove, her hand was quite warm. He had not held a woman's gloved hand in some time. He tried to remember... it was probably Claudia's hand, in this kind of glove.
"So, dear lady, how did you come to be here, in the City?" He raised an eyebrow, curious how he'd not run across her before. Maybe he was getting rusty in searching out interesting minds. Maybe he was too focused, as usual, on wanting what he could not have--Hannibal, River... people like them.
He thought of leaving Rowan on the last day he saw her, because it would be better for her.
Lestat suddenly felt very confused, but it didn't show on his face.