Page 49 of Legacy of Thorns
“At least we have a name now.” Daphne moved them toward her next target. “And hopefully this time we’ll get a location for that castle.”
But when she struck up a conversation with Lady Sartenet, using flattery to endear herself and then turning the conversation to Lord Barlowe’s castle, Lady Sartenet sighed.
“Ah, the white castle on the southern lake with its rows of cherry blossoms. How dearly I should like to see it for myself.”
“Have you never done so?” Daphne asked. “Then do you perhaps know someone who has? Other than Lord Barlowe, of course.”
“Hmm, well, let me see.” Lady Sartenet hummed to herself. “For that you had best talk to Lady Galsey.” She pointed at the woman Daphne had met beside the refreshment table. “I’m sure she’s been there.”
When Daphne returned to Fin, she was frowning. “That seems strange. Has no one been there?”
“It might be strange,” he said, “or it may simply be that the women have faulty memories. It’s an easy enough detail to forget over time. The important point is that we have information on its location.”
“Not much,” Daphne said dubiously.
“There’s only one lake on the southern border of the forest. And it’s an area known for its cherry blossoms. I’ve never been to that region personally—it’s one of the few I haven’t visited—so I can’t speak for the truth behind the tales of a white castle. I don’t think I’ve heard of it before, though.” He looked thoughtful.
“So we have a name and a location,” Daphne murmured. “That’s a great deal more than you ever had before.”
“But why would a lord be obsessed with seeking revenge on my family?” Fin’s voice was laced with frustration. “What did my father do to him?”
“That isn’t something that’s likely to be covered by noble gossip,” Daphne said regretfully.
“So maybe we risk it all.” Fin’s voice held steady. “Maybe we talk to him directly.”
Daphne looked at him with narrowed eyes. “And if he recognizes you?”
“He’s never come after us personally, so why should he? And besides, we’re in the middle of a ball. What can he do here?”
Daphne could think of several things, but she didn’t think any of them would make Finley pause.
“We should wait, at least,” she said, not liking the reckless light in his eyes. “Let Lord Barlowe have a few drinks first. It might help loosen his tongue and cloud his judgment.”
Fin released a breath and nodded, his eyes drifting to her face. “In that case, we should enjoy ourselves in the meantime.” He held out a hand. “Dance with me?”
Daphne put her hand slowly into his, trying to ignore the shiver that raced up her arm in response to the contact. But no sooner had he swung them into the dance than her eyes caught on a snowy-haired figure on the far side of the ballroom.
Gasping, she pulled free of Fin and raced across the room toward the familiar face.
Chapter 16
Daphne
Dimly, Daphne was aware of Fin trailing behind her, repeating her name in an urgent but low tone. But she was too focused on her goal to stop and talk to him.
When she reached the far end of the ballroom, she came to a stop in front of an elderly gentleman with a slightly bowed back but a bright, keen gaze. He immediately broke off his conversation at her breathless approach, and when she pulled off her mask, his whole face lit up.
“Daphne!” he pulled her into a hug, patting her back in a way that sent tears pricking at her eyelids. Her actual grandparents had passed away before her family’s return to Glandore, so Lorne was the closest thing she had ever known to a grandfather.
“My poor girl!” he murmured. “Whatever has happened to you?”
“But what are you doing here, Lorne?” she asked at the same time.
They both broke off and chuckled. Glancing to either side, Daphne gestured toward a convenient alcove in the wall of the ballroom—one half obscured by a large potted plant.
“Perhaps somewhere more private?” she suggested, and Lorne raised his eyebrows but offered no protest.
Fin shadowed them to the alcove, his face closed off and still since her mention of Lorne’s name. He made no attempt to intrude on their conversation, taking up a post outside, just out of earshot.
