Page 12 of Legacy of Thorns
“We need to get moving,” he said roughly, striding off toward their campsite and leaving her to trail behind.
He couldn’t afford to lose focus or to waste time on a fool’s hope. Protecting Archie was what mattered—not the forgiveness of a bright-eyed girl with honey-brown hair and hidden depths.
He strode out of the trees to find Morrow awake and preparing a hot breakfast. Finley would have preferred to get moving immediately—the turmoil inside him demanded forward progress. But he pushed the feeling down, well practiced from years at concealing his true emotions.
He half expected Daphne to quiz him on his unexpected appearance in the forest, but she ate breakfast and helped pack up camp as if nothing had happened. She wasn’t entirely unaffected by her morning’s exertions, however. After rolling up her bedroll, she sank onto the ground, placed her head on it, and fell instantly asleep.
“Is she napping already?” Nisha paused halfway through putting the cooking dishes in her pack to stare at Daphne. “She just woke up.”
Finley shrugged. Daphne had expended enough energy in the forest to earn a nap, but he found himself loath to speak about their shared morning training.
His own muscles already ached, although they hadn’t even started walking for the day. He couldn’t have settled to sleep, though. Restless energy buzzed through every line of his body.
He gazed at Daphne. She looked utterly peaceful. Apparently the training dance hadn’t affected her the way it had affected him.
She woke with a stretch and beamed beatifically around, apparently pleased to find their camp fully packed and the packs ready to go.
“Are we ready to start?” she asked as if she hadn’t just slept through the last of the morning’s work.
Finley smiled reluctantly. He should have felt irritated with her, but somehow it was impossible. And from the smiles Nisha and Morrow were hiding, he wasn’t the only one who felt that way.
On the road, they fell into the same walking rhythm as the day before with one notable difference. Finley still walked in the middle, but Daphne positioned herself at the front, beside Morrow, leaving Finley to walk alone. He tried not to let that sting. As long as Daphne remained with them, nothing else mattered.
At the midday meal, Daphne produced a cheese from her pack to share. It was greeted with enthusiasm by Morrow and Nisha, and even Finley couldn’t help smiling as he ate it. Judging from its quality, she must have brought it with her from the Sovaran palace.
With lifted spirits, they made good time after the meal, and it was only mid-afternoon when Finley spotted a small road branching off from the main one and disappearing into the trees.
“That’s our road,” he called to Morrow, and his companion nodded, turning toward it.
It was smaller than the main road south through the forest, but it led to a small town and was well maintained. At sight ofit, Daphne perked up, clearly eager to arrive at their destination. Her enthusiasm sent another stab of guilt through Finley which he had to work to suppress. At least his deception was nearly at an end.
Morrow led them down the smaller road, and Daphne dropped back to walk beside Finley again. The new path wasn’t wide enough for anyone to walk comfortably beside Morrow’s broad frame.
Finley smiled warmly at her, but her initial enthusiasm had dimmed, and she barely seemed to notice. Each step made her more quiet and thoughtful—even tense. Did she suspect something? Had the time come to tell her the truth?
But before he could make up his mind to speak, the road bent to the right and the village appeared before them, nestled among the trees. Daphne brightened at its appearance, but her mouth soon turned down as Morrow led them off the main road to circle around the town. She cast glances between the three of them but remained silent, waiting to see where Morrow was leading.
When a large manor house appeared before them, her brow cleared. “Are they accommodating Gordon at the manor? That’s kind. I’m sure Lorne will be much more comfortable there than at the village inn.”
Finley said nothing, not willing to lie yet again when he was so close to confessing the truth. Nisha and Morrow both remained silent as well, and a small line appeared between Daphne’s brows.
Finley tensed, but she didn’t push him for answers. Neither did her steps slow, although he caught a bright, alert glint in her eyes that was at odds with the already familiar languor of her manner.
When they skirted the house to weave through the trees, however, she stopped. The rest of them stopped as well, Morrow several beats behind the others.
“This doesn’t look like the path to the front door,” she said, an amused lilt in her words despite the wariness in her eyes.
“He’s not in the main house,” Finley said. “He’s in an outbuilding to the rear.” The words weren’t technically a lie, given he didn’t clarify whohewas.
Daphne sighed. “Not as generous as I thought, then,” she muttered to herself, moving forward again.
Finley let out the breath he was holding. He didn’t know what he’d been thinking earlier. It was much better to wait and tell her the truth when they were actually at the barn.
When they made it to the back of the sprawling manor, Daphne turned toward the structure that housed the manor’s outdoor servants. But the others held their course, heading for a large, wooden barn.
Daphne hesitated for a moment before trailing silently behind them. The old barn was set back from the main building and hadn’t been used for horses in generations. Trees had grown up between the two structures in subsequent years, and no one was likely to notice or disturb them out there.
When they stopped in front of the worn double doors, Daphne shook her head and spoke flatly. “Lorne is not out here.”
