Page 5 of Legacy of Thorns
Daphne nodded. “I was sorry not to find Lorne here. Sorry on your uncle’s behalf, of course, but also on my own. I was wishing to consult with Lorne on an urgent matter.” At least, it felt urgent to her.
Lorne’s grandson continued to stare at her, and a flicker of doubt whispered across Daphne’s mind. Was it possible this wasn’t?—
“If you’ve come to stay with Grandfather,” the young man said with more urgency, “does that mean you’re the goddaughter he’s been talking about? Princess Olivia’s cousin?”
Daphne breathed a sigh of relief. The man was Lorne’s grandson, and Lorne’s family was expecting her, even if his housekeeper had forgotten. It would make her stay in the empty house a great deal less awkward.
“Daphne,” the man said with the beginnings of a smile. “You’re Daphne.”
“I’m afraid I’ve forgotten your name,” she said apologetically. “I remember Mary had a collection of brothers, but apparently you didn’t leave a strong impression.” She gave him a mischievous grin, hoping he would respond in kind and lighten the mood between them.
As she hoped, he smiled back, stepping around the desk and finally approaching her. When he held out his hand, she put hers into it, but he neither shook it nor let it go. Instead, he clasped it warmly, his eyes twinkling down into hers.
“I’ll forgive you for forgetting my name, if you’ll forgive me for being so startled by your arrival. I’m Finley and apparently we’re godsiblings—or cousins, perhaps? It’s a bit confusing.”
Daphne smiled back. “I think I’m actually your godaunt.”
He blinked and laughed, and Daphne almost laughed with him, responding instinctively to the warmth that emanated from him. It reminded her of Lorne, even if his looks did not.
His cropped curls were so dark as to be almost black, but his eyes were light, their color somewhere between blue and gray. Of course, Lorne may once have shared his grandson’s coloring—his hair had been white as long as Daphne had known him and she’d never asked its original color. But Lorne had never had the height of Finley, of that she was certain. And neither did he possess the chiseled jaw or the straight, masculine nose.
She guessed his age to be within a couple years of her own, and she could hear her friend Rosalie’s voice in her ear as she gazed at him. Her best friend from back home in Glandorewould have a lot to say if she knew Daphne was standing with her hand clasped by a man who looked like Finley.
Daphne whisked her hand away. Along with his chiseled jaw, Lorne’s grandson sported a black leather coat with a high neck and moved with the sort of quiet grace that Daphne imagined an assassin would possess. And yet, his smile and the slight point to his ears lent him an air closer to that of a charming rogue. All together it spelled one thing—danger.
Daphne considered herself far more sensible than Rosalie, but she wasn’t sure even she was proof against Finley. And that made her very wary indeed.
Finley looked down at his empty hand, but his smile only quirked and didn’t disappear.
“You mentioned you have an urgent need to consult my grandfather,” he said. “Would you like me to take you to him?”
Daphne’s head snapped up, her concerns over Finley momentarily forgotten. “We could go to him? Is that really possible?”
She felt no pull to stay in Ethelson if Lorne wasn’t there. She had come to see him more than the town. And she didn’t care how dangerous Finley might be to the heart of any girl he came in contact with. Daphne had survived plenty of attractive men—the Sovaran court was full of them—and she could handle one more if it meant getting answers about why her sleepiness hadn’t lifted.
Chapter 3
Finley
“Icould certainly take you to him,” Finley said, adding silently,if I had any idea where he is.
“Is he not in Klympton?” she asked. “Has your uncle moved?”
“From what I’ve heard, he was traveling when the accident happened.” Finley repeated the gossip Nisha had managed to pick up. “He’s in a small hamlet near the crash site.”
“Oh, how awful.” Daphne’s hand came to her mouth, her eyes full of sympathy.
They were lovely eyes, too—green with flecks of gold, framed by long dark lashes and distinctive brows. Paired with her button nose and luscious lips, she was undeniably stunning. But Finley couldn’t afford to get distracted by a beautiful face. Archie couldn’t afford for him to get distracted.
So he maintained his charming smile and tried not to flinch at the lies. Despite the practice he had accumulated in the last six years, Finley had never liked lying.
“I was actually already on my way to join him this afternoon,” he said. “You’d be welcome to accompany me.”
Daphne’s brows rose slightly, and she regarded him with an assessing gaze.
Finley grinned at her. “Not just with me, of course. We’ll be traveling with two of my grandfather’s associates, who are hoping to be of assistance to him.”
He definitely didn’t imagine the look of relief on her face. He must be losing his touch if she felt that unsure about him.
