Page 97 of Rivals
“Technically the news shouldn’t be released until the next Court Circular goes out, but you know how word travels. People are probably already talking,” her mother snapped. “Daphne—what do you think Jefferson is going to do when he finds out? What about his mother? You expect Adelaide to let a common nobody marry her only son?”
“I’ll figure this out. I just need time,” Daphne said blindly, frantically.
“Time is the one thing you don’t have. You’d better act tonight, before everyone learns of our disgrace.” With that, Rebecca hung up the phone.
Daphne stood there for a moment, staring numbly at some portrait of a man in a wig and ruff without really seeing it. Her vision had gone blurry; she felt like she didn’t dare take a step or she might vomit, pass out, tumble to the floor, scream.
What a traitorous snake Gabriella was. She’d assured Daphne that she would speak to her father, when clearly all she’d told him was that Daphne was harassing her, and that the Deightons needed to be taught a lesson.
Well, now Gabriella would learn a lesson of her own: that Daphne followed through on her threats.
Her breath coming in short gasps, Daphne logged onto the dummy email account she’d been using for the past months, every time she sold a photo to Natasha.
TheDaily Newsmight be interested in this footage of Gabriella Madison,she typed, and then attached the video, cropped so that only Gabriella was visible, snorting cocaine.
If Gabriella wanted to ruin Daphne’s life, then Daphne would drag her down too.
“You really are a great date at events like this,” Sam told Marshall as they walked in a slow loop around the ballroom. She’d discovered that as long as she kept moving, no one bothered her, because they all assumed she was headed to talk to someone else—but the moment she and Marshall fell still, a princess or king or another of the lords attendant would come say hello.
“Yes, obviously. But which of my many stellar qualities are you talking about?” Marshall quipped. “Because I’m tall, or well dressed, or a fantastic dancer?”
Sam smiled, though she saw that his heart wasn’t fully in their banter. For the past week, she and Marshall had both been pretending that the rest of the world didn’t exist. Aside from their afternoon at the football game, and a couple of events for the duchy—where he dodged questions from reporters about their relationship—Marshall had lain low, coming to visit Sam here at Bellevue.
And now they were on the cover ofTimeas the faces of America’s problematic dialogue about race.
It felt like to America, she and Marshall were no longer people at all. They were symbols, whose value and purpose were decided by newspaper editors, by online commenters and movie directors, by the hundreds of people shouting eachtime they made an official appearance. By everyone, really, except for themselves.
Here at Bellevue, surrounded by royals who had their own countries to manage, they were able to skate by relatively unnoticed. But the real world was looming, and eventually they would have to face it.
“Sam, Marshall!” Nina hurried toward them. “Has either of you seen Daphne? She left about fifteen minutes ago, and I’m getting worried.”
Sam frowned, confused. “Youare worried aboutDaphne?” She knew they’d seen each other more often lately, because of Jeff, but when had they become friends?
“Her phone rang, and she got this weird look on her face and then disappeared. I have a bad feeling about it.”
“I’m sure she’s fine.” Sam wondered if Jeff and Daphne were fighting again. Jeff had mentioned Daphne’s strange behavior at the End of Session party.
For a moment, Sam hoped that Jeff would break up with Daphne, if only to divert some of the relentless speculation and attention from her and Marshall. Then she felt instantly ashamed of the thought. As much as she wanted freedom from the scrutiny, she certainly didn’t want it at her brother’s and Daphne’s expense.
Besides, it shouldn’t work that way. She and Marshall should be able to breathe without offering up her brother and his girlfriend as bait.
“I didn’t know your aunt Margaret was coming,” Marshall remarked, and Sam looked up. There was Aunt Margaret, walking into the ballroom in a one-shouldered gown of tie-dyed silk, still a West Coast hippie, even in formal attire.
Marshall took a step back. “Nina, want to take a lap with me? We can find Daphne.”
Sam shot him a grateful look. She had a feeling that AuntMargaret had come forher,because she knew her niece could use some guidance right now.
When Aunt Margaret reached her, she pulled Sam into a hug. “How are you holding up?”
“Um, I don’t…I’m not…” Suddenly Sam felt close to tears.
Aunt Margaret took her by the elbow. “Why don’t we go get some dinner.”
“Dinner isn’t being served yet.”
“That’s why we should go now, before everyone else shows up,” Margaret said crisply.
When they headed into the great hall, its long banquet tables arranged with goblets and gold plates polished to a shine, a few servers in uniform startled. Margaret ignored their reaction, waving her fingers at the closest young man.
