Page 63 of Legacy of Thorns
“He’ll be heading for his castle.” Daphne frowned. “Or the castle he’s been claiming as his, anyway. But Fin’s the one who knew where it was.” She looked at Lorne. “Something about a southern lake and cherry blossoms? Supposedly there’s a white castle on the lake.”
“That must be on the southwestern border of the forest.” Lorne’s brow creased. “The road from Ethelson to the capital passes just to the east of the lake, so I’ve been through the area several times. I don’t remember a white castle, though.”
Before Daphne could explain about the sleeping girl and the wall of thorns, the milling group near the manor door finally worked up the courage to approach. As they took in the scene and the six bound men, their exclamations and questions grewlouder and louder, attracting a growing crowd from inside the manor.
Lord Castlerey pushed through them. “Now, now,” he called, “what’s this?” He looked disapprovingly over the group until his eyes fell on Lorne. “Lorne! What are you doing out here? What has happened?”
“I’m afraid this group of men attacked my goddaughter, Daphne.” Lorne drew her forward. “They were threatening her with swords when we luckily arrived on the scene.”
Several women screamed, and a fresh burst of chatter broke out among the watching guests.
“It was Lord Barlowe,” Daphne said loudly. “He was the one who told them to do it. He ordered them to kill me!”
“Lord Barlowe?” Lord Castlerey frowned. “Nonsense! Why, he was called away on an urgent family matter some time ago. He isn’t even here. If these men have been bandying his name about in an effort to save their own hides, I shall see them suitably punished.”
Daphne growled under her breath. No wonder Finley had been reluctant to approach the lord with their story.
Lorne put a steadying hand on her arm and spoke to his friend. “If you could have these ruffians delivered to the nearest guards, I would be in your debt, my lord. It has been a terrifying experience for my goddaughter, and I would like to get her back to the inn and warmed up as soon as possible.”
“Of course, Lorne, of course,” Lord Castlerey said. “It’s no wonder she’s overset. A most troubling business! Attacking my guests as they leave my ball—I never heard of such a thing! We have the villains well in hand, don’t you fear.” He signaled to several footmen, and they hurried forward to take charge of the prisoners.
“I suppose we needn’t worry about what the men might say,” Daphne said dryly as they turned away, “since it seems Lord Castlerey has decided what happened for himself.”
“I suspect it’s for the best on this occasion,” Lorne murmured. “I believe this is a matter best handled by ourselves.”
He put his arm around her shoulders and led her down the road, toward the village. Archer followed close behind, flanked on either side by Nisha and Morrow.
“What happened to Avery?” Daphne checked over her shoulder at the people still milling around Lord Castlerey and the six prisoners, but there was no sign of the two merchants there.
“She and Elliot already headed back to the inn,” Lorne replied. “They’re a capable pair, so I’m sure they’ll have a private sitting room ready for us by the time we arrive—hopefully one with a roaring fire. I really do want to see you warmed up, my girl. That dress isn’t made for the night air, and I don’t want you going into shock.”
Daphne stopped abruptly, pulling him to a stop with her. “I’m not the one we need to be worrying about right now.”
“I assure you I have top class worrying skills,” Lorne said with unimpaired cheer. “I can worry about a staggering number of people all at once.”
“Is that something to boast about?” Archer asked. “My mother always advised me not to worry.”
“A wise woman,” Lorne said. “But we all need occupation in our old age, and since I can no longer travel much, I sometimes dabble in other hobbies.”
Nisha spoke up from behind them. “If we’re going after Finley, we’ll need transport. And better directions than justsouthwest. The inn seems as good a place as any to strategize.”
Archer stepped up to Daphne’s side and slung an arm over her shoulders. “And they have lovely, comfortable chairs as well. How could you resist?”
“How indeed?” She shrugged out from under his arm, giving him a repressive look.
But her knot of worry loosened slightly at sight of the concern and impatience that lurked at the back of his eyes. She wasn’t the only one eager to be off after Finley.
Lorne resumed walking, and the rest of them followed. “At the inn, we’ll consult a map and plan what we can from there.”
When they finally reached the brightly lit building, they found everything just as Lorne had predicted. Daphne gratefully accepted the warm drink handed to her, but she didn’t dare sit in one of the armchairs by the fire. She would be asleep in seconds if she did.
With everyone gathered, Daphne told the evening’s story again, this time with full details. Her audience exhibited a satisfying amount of shock at the revelation of the true identity of Finley and Archer’s father.
“Their father was Prince Timothy?” Avery seemed to be the only one who recognized the name. “And he’s deceased? King Vesper will be sorry to hear it. The last time I was in the capital, he confided his brother’s story to me—confidentially, of course. He regrets his father’s firm stance on the matter and asked me to keep an eye out for Prince Timothy in my travels.” She glanced at Elliot. “We’ll have to adjust our plans and visit the capital before we move on to Halbury. I can’t leave Oakden without telling the king the news of his brother’s death.”
“Of course.” Elliot put a comforting arm around her. “We said we’d be in Halbury in the summer, but not exactly when. We can take as much time as you like.”
Avery seemed to draw strength from the contact, her manner turning brisk. “For now, however, we have more pressingmatters.” She produced a map of Oakden and laid it across the room’s large table.
