Page 26 of Legacy of Thorns (Kingdoms of Legacy #3)

Daphne

“ S o all we need to do is infiltrate the manor and question its occupants without being identified as outsiders,” Daphne said as she paced feverishly back and forth in the small living space of the cabin.

All three men tracked her with their eyes, Morrow looking a little dizzy.

Daphne knew she was panicking. She also knew that the panicked feeling had little to do with the impossible task before them.

Daphne had been faced with seemingly impossible situations before, and as far as she could remember, she’d never panicked in her life.

But she’d been feeling the forces of the Legacy closing around her for weeks, and since her kiss with Fin and the discovery of the mastermind behind their pursuers, it was starting to feel like a stranglehold. Whatever the Legacy wanted from her—whatever it was driving toward—it was getting close.

“Tell me again why we can’t go in as servants?” She completed another loop of the too-small room.

“Nisha said it was impossible.” Archer sounded cautious. Even his infatuation didn’t know what to make of her current state. “She said servants all know each other well, and they’d notice a new face straight away, let alone multiple new faces.”

“Who knew that Nisha was once a servant herself.” Morrow gave a disbelieving chuckle. “Hard to imagine Nisha bowing and scraping and scrubbing floors.”

“Why do you think I’m not a servant anymore?” Nisha asked from the doorway.

“Nisha!” Daphne pounced on her. “Where have you been? You know the most about manor houses. You need to tell us?—”

“You need to sit down before Morrow gets so dizzy he keels over.” Nisha fixed Daphne with a stern look. “Aren’t you feeling at all sleepy, young lady?”

Daphne dropped immediately into one of the dining chairs. “Actually,” she said. “Now that you mention it, I am.”

The exhaustion—held at bay by her frenzy—hit her like a wall. She put her head down on the table and was instantly asleep.

The moment consciousness returned, she propelled herself upright. “What happened? What did I miss?”

“Relax.” Fin’s hand settled on her shoulder, gently but firmly guiding her back into the seat. “You missed nothing of importance. Nisha is just explaining her plan.”

“You have a plan?” Relief washed over Daphne, almost overriding the warmth that was spreading through her from Fin’s touch on her shoulder.

He still hadn’t removed his hand, and she didn’t point out his oversight or shrug away from him. She needed all the comfort she could get.

“I’ve been into the village,” Nisha explained, catching Daphne up.

“I thought you just went for a walk?” Daphne could vaguely remember Nisha muttering something about needing a walk.

“You lot were talking in circles,” Nisha said matter-of-factly, “and I preferred to do something productive.”

“It was dangerous to go alone,” Fin said quietly. “You should have taken me with you.”

Nisha shook her head. “It was easier to get information on my own.”

Morrow raised an eyebrow. “And did you get information?”

“Of course.” Nisha placed a parcel wrapped in brown paper on the table. “Information and these.” She turned to Daphne. “Do you know how to dance?”

Daphne looked back at her warily. “I just spent six months at the Sovaran court, so unfortunately yes.”

“Unfortunately?” Archie’s brow creased. “How can anyone dislike dancing?”

“I find I can dislike any and all energetic activities,” Daphne said. “Consider it a gift, if you will.”

Fin’s hand tightened on her shoulder, and for a second her calm control nearly cracked. But whatever he said about releasing her feelings, it clearly wasn’t the right moment.

“While I tremble to ask,” she said calmly to Nisha, “why do my dancing skills matter right now?”

“Houseguests,” Nisha answered cryptically.

Finley raised a brow. “I hope that makes more sense to someone else than it does to me.”

Only blank looks met his inquiring gaze, so he turned back to Nisha.

“If the local lord has houseguests, that means parties,” she said, as if it was obvious. “Lots of them. And parties mean extra help hired from town and purchases made with local suppliers. So I asked around. Turns out the next entertainment Lord Castlerey has planned is tonight—and it’s a ball.”

She pulled open the parcel and shook out a heavy gown of pink satin. In her other hand, she held up an elegant face mask. “Even better for us, it’s a ladies’ masquerade.”

“A ladies’ masquerade?” Daphne asked blankly. She had been to plenty of formal events at the Sovaran court, and even a masquerade, but she hadn’t heard of a ladies’ one.

“The ladies go masked, but the men don’t,” Nisha said.

“A full masquerade would have been better, but this is good enough. A ball is already the perfect opportunity to get a couple of people into the manor without suspicion. Lots of guests will be coming from out of town, so no one will expect to recognize every face.”

She looked directly at Daphne, Fin’s hand still on her shoulder. “Only two of us could successfully pose as a couple, so I purchased the clothing with you and Finley in mind. I hope you can make any necessary adjustments before tonight.”

D aphne straightened the dress for the tenth time, trying to work up the courage to leave the small bedroom.

“Are you sure it fits all right?” she asked Nisha.

“It does.” Nisha prowled in a full circle around her, her critical eye on Daphne’s gown as she checked it. “It’s a good thing you’re handier with a needle than I am.”

“I didn’t learn as a child,” Daphne said, “since my mother much preferred travel to needlework. But Rosalie’s mother insisted Rosalie and I learn.” She gave a breathy laugh. “We weren’t the easiest pupils—Rosalie has about as much patience for it as my mother, and I kept falling asleep in lessons.”

“Pure coincidence, I’m sure,” Nisha said wryly. “But at least you retained some basic skills, and that’s better than me. Now come on, it’s time for you two to get moving.”

Daphne opened the bedroom door quietly and slipped into the main room. Fin stood with his back to her, his hands on Archer’s shoulders. From Archer’s sulky expression they were having the same conversation they’d been having all afternoon.

“I’m just saying I should be there, too,” Archer said. “I could have gone out and bought myself a formal outfit.”

Over Fin’s shoulder, Archer’s eyes caught on Daphne, and he stuttered to a stop, his face going red. A small smile tugged at her lips. She knew Archer’s infatuation wasn’t his fault, but his responses were so adorably boyish at times that she couldn’t help smiling to herself.

Fin noticed his brother’s reaction and turned, looking to see what had caught Archer’s attention. He froze at sight of Daphne, and the look that sprang into his eyes filled her with something far more potent than amusement.

“You look beautiful.” He spoke as if they were the only two present, and she flushed.

“You look well yourself.” It was an understatement. Despite six months in the Sovaran court around well-dressed courtiers, Fin in formalwear took her breath away.

Morrow gave a single resounding clap, finally breaking Fin and Daphne’s locked gaze.

“You both look just the thing!” he exclaimed. “No one will question that you’re guests of a lord. But has anyone thought to ask if Fin can dance?”

Fin threw him a look. “Of course I can dance.”

“If that’s what you call it,” Archer sniggered, but Fin ignored him.

Nisha handed Daphne the mask, and Daphne tied it securely in place so that it fit snugly across her eyes and nose. Next came a cloak—her own original one, handed to her by Nisha.

“Are you sure…?” Fin asked, but Nisha didn’t hesitate as she handed over his cloak.

“You’re posing as guests—ones who’ve traveled from out of town for the ball—so you shouldn’t be wearing local cloaks. But you have to wear something. Daphne can’t go strolling through the forest in a ballgown.”

Morrow clapped Fin on the shoulder. “Don’t argue, lad. Nisha’s the one with the expertise. Besides, we should be going.”

“We?” Daphne looked from him to Finley.

“I’ll be walking you as far as the edge of the forest,” Morrow said implacably.

“But then you’ll come back?” Fin asked, glancing meaningfully toward Archie.

“Aye, I’ll be back.” Morrow gave him a steady, reassuring look. “And we won’t be listening to his pleading this time, don’t you worry.”

“Very well.” Fin gave his brother a stern look. “Archie, behave. We’ll be back before you know it.”

“Will you?” Archer looked and sounded more serious than usual.

Fin’s voice softened. “Don’t worry. Daphne and I can do this. We’ll be back, along with some answers.”

Archer sighed and looked away. Finley continued to gaze at him for a moment before shrugging and turning to Daphne.

He offered his arm with a flourish, but she ignored it and swept out of the cabin ahead of him. Her heart was already conflicted enough without walking through the forest with her arm through his.

Fin sighed behind her but said nothing. Was she hurting him with her attitude?

She didn’t want to hurt him, but she was caught in a maelstrom not of her own making, and without a proper foundation—the kind that came with truly knowing yourself—she didn’t know where she was being blown.

It was better by far for Finley to keep himself free of her.

They walked through the forest mostly in silence, Morrow’s presence ensuring there was no opportunity for private talk anyway.

Daphne tried to focus on the upcoming mission, but her mind kept slipping sideways to Fin before circling around to her worries about the Legacy.

They had to stop twice on the walk for her to nap, lightning fast sleeps that left her less and less refreshed.

What if the unknown man wasn’t at the ball? What if he was there, and he recognized Finley? Fin had never seen the man before, only his hired ruffians, but could they be sure the man hadn’t seen Finley?