It was… disarming. Dangerously so.
Daphne would not relent. She fixed her gentle face on him, probably knowing that she, much like their other sisters, was his weakness, and that he would lay down his life for them without hesitation.
“Do not sabotage your chance for happiness because of a few whispers from people who don’t matter to you,” she said softly. “You deserve to dance and laugh and just be you. It is time to live in the present, instead of the shadows of the past. If you can’t do it for yourself, do it for her. She looks like she needs a friend right now.”
Daniel exhaled slowly.
Friend.
The word felt both simple and strangely complicated.
He glanced back at Lucy. She did look a little lonely and uncomfortable now, her gaze lowered as she smoothed the skirts of her gown.
Something tightened in his chest again.
Blast it.
“Gordon is out there,” he muttered after a moment. “I can’t—I can’t forget what my mission is.”
The name alone was enough to drag him back into the darker corners of his thoughts.
“Do you see signs of Gordon in the ballroom?” Daphne asked calmly. “Do you see yourself leaving the house within an hour?”
Daniel did not answer. He knew the truth of it. The ballroom was filled with music and laughter, not conspiracy.
“Your mission will still be there tomorrow,” she continued. “However, tonight is fleeting. Life is fleeting. Kenneth’s death should have taught you that. You must learn to live.”
Kenneth.
The name almost made him wince.
For a moment, Daniel’s gaze drifted across the dancers without seeing them. He remembered another ballroom. Another night filled with laughter that had ended in silence.
Kenneth had been alive then. Now he was not.
Life is fleeting.
His jaw loosened slightly.
Across the room, Lucy finally lifted her gaze again. For a brief moment, her eyes moved through the crowd and landed on him.
She froze, just slightly, as though surprised to find him watching.
Daniel felt an odd, steady pull in his chest.
And sighed under his breath.
His sisters would be the death of him yet.
Lucy thought that she would spend the rest of the night standing still in the corner of the ballroom so that people would soon think she was a statue.
With some relief, she saw Elizabeth and Alasdair approaching. She smiled at the sight of the radiant host and hostess, but the smile faltered at the sight of Elizabeth’s face. There was a hint of worry in her eyes.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Victoria is upstairs,” Elizabeth explained. “All these activities have been too much for her. The excitement of the Highland games has taken its toll. Richard is with her, of course. He is holding a cool cloth to her head, while he soothes her with stories about some of the guests.”
“He is a good husband,” Lucy commented sincerely, though she could not help but wonder what it would have been like to have that attention, instead of the obsessive one from her brother.
