Page 119 of Rivals

Those four words had never preceded anything good.

“I—of course.” Daphne felt her smile slip as they headed through the double doors.

Already the ballroom looked tired. The magic of an evening like this never really lasted, did it? The dance floor looked scuffed, and half-empty bottles of champagne were sweating on the bar. Even the figures in the marble statues seemed exhausted, as if they longed to close their eyes and take a quick nap.

Daphne felt a brief stab of hope, because Jefferson surely wouldn’t break up with her here in the ballroom, but then he ushered her down the hallway and deeper into the palace, to a sitting room she’d never seen before. An ugly watercolor hung on the wall, so ugly that Daphne suspected a relative must have painted it.

“Daphne, you know how much I care about you.”

He’d saidcare about you,notlove you.Daphne tried not to panic.

“Things between us have gotten weird lately,” he went on, and Daphne cut in.

“I know, and I’m sorry! It’s my fault. I should never have betrayed your trust like that.”

“You did, though,” he said bluntly. “Maybe it’s this situation with your family’s title, which I’m really sorry about. But you’ve been acting strange for a while. It makes me wonder if we’re a good fit anymore, or if we’ve maybe…drifted apart.”

Drifted apart? More like he driftedintoNina and decided he was through with Daphne.Again.

Daphne was grateful that she’d seen Nina and Jefferson earlier, had already let the hurt storm violently through her, then ebb. Staring at Jefferson now, all she felt was a cold determination not to lose him.

She refused to let Nina and Gabriella win.

What could she do—throw a fit, burst into tears, and accuse him of cheating? Jefferson might stay here and comfort her for a while, but he wouldn’t take her back. Maybe shecould tell him that Nina had betrayed her, pretended to be her friend and sold her out to Gabriella. Except that he was so starry-eyed when it came to Nina, and Daphne didn’t exactly want to remind him of Gabriella, and of the photos she’dsold.

She shuffled through every bit of gossip she knew, every last secret she’d accumulated during her years at court, but none of them would make Jefferson stay if he really wanted to leave her. Daphne knew how to gently steer him in one direction when he was torn—she’d been doing it for years—but she wasn’t powerful enough toforcehim into something he didn’t want to do. No one could do that, except his family.

Then it hit her, in a terrible, deadly flash of inspiration. The one way she could keep hold of Jefferson, now that all else had failed.

Some lingering sliver of conscience, left over from her fake friendship with Nina, reared its head for a moment. Could she really go through with this? Wasn’t she going too far?

If her mother were here, she would say that nothing was too far, no sacrifice too great. Not for the good of their family. If Daphne had to journey to the gates of hell itself to get rid of Nina and win Jefferson back, Rebecca would send her on her way and wish her luck.

At the thought of Nina, Daphne’s resolve hardened. She wasn’t doing anything worse than what Nina had done to her—twisting someone’s emotions for her own purposes. Lying to someone she ostensibly cared about.

“You’re right. Ihavebeen acting weird.”

It wasn’t hard for Daphne to start crying. She was on edge, and afraid, risking her entire future on one last gamble. She would be staking everything on this hand, and if it failed…

She couldn’t let herself think about that. If she didn’tlook the possibility of failure in the eye, then she could keep outrunning it.

“Daphne, it’s okay.” Jefferson put a hand on her shoulder, patting her awkwardly, and Daphne sobbed all the harder.

“I’ve been acting weird because I’m terrified,” she said brokenly, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I wanted to tell you, but I didn’t know—I’m not sure—”

She had to be careful with her words. The key was to babble incoherently, so that later, Jefferson would never be exactly sure what she’d said.

“I didn’t know how you would react; I thought you’d be angry or upset. People are going to think that I was trying totrapyou or something.”

Jefferson’s hand went still. “What are you talking about?”

Daphne lifted her tear-streaked face to his. “I’m late.”

“Late?” he repeated.

“I’m late,” she said again. “I might…I mean…”

She saw comprehension sink in. His expression flickered from stunned shock to a brief flash of dismay or maybe guilt, but then it all melted into a hesitant concern.