Page 100 of Reign
“A little bit of space,” Beatrice said hollowly. Teddy started to reach for her, but she pulled back.
“Bee—I almost lost you once. I can’t bear to lose you again,” he pleaded. “I love you. I would give up everything for you.”
But she didn’twanthim to have to give up everything.
A loud, screaming confusion roared in her ears. Teddy had been so stable, so constant, that without even realizing it, she had come to lean on him, trusting that he couldhandle it. Learning that their relationship wasn’t as solid as she’d assumed—it felt like the rug had been pulled out from under her.
“I have to go,” she mumbled, and fled back to the Grand Gallery before Teddy could see the tears in her eyes.
The rehearsal dinner was winding to a close. Footmen circulated through the room, pouring coffee and serving cherry tarts with dollops of whipped cream, a traditional Washington family dessert.
Daphne’s face hurt from smiling. All night well-wishers had given toasts to the happy couple: mostly Jefferson’s high school buddies and family members, though a few of Daphne’s old classmates had gone up to the microphone to gush about howfantasticshe was. Daphne wasn’t actually close with any of those girls—they just wanted to be able to brag that they had participated in the royal wedding—but it was almost nice, feeling like a normal bride who had friends to toast her. Even her father had mustered up a father-of-the-bride toast, full of such trite and generic platitudes that Daphne could only assume he’d pulled it from the internet.
The evening was nearing its conclusion when Daphne’s skin prickled with sudden awareness. Gossip had begun hissing through the room like a winter wind; many of the guests were staring at their phones in shock, whispering to their neighbors. A momentary panic stabbed through Daphne—had Gabriella leaked the truth about her and Ethan after all?—but then she realized that her mother was smiling a narrow, catlike smile.
“Was this you?” Rebecca asked, holding her phone toward Daphne.
The headline on the landing page of theTimesreadDuke of Virginia Engaged in Multimillion-Dollar Fraud Scheme.
Daphne sucked in a breath and kept reading.
The FBI has opened a formal investigation into His Grace the Duke of Virginia, who stands accused of stealing millions of dollars from various government accounts under his care. A federal judge has frozen the duke’s assets and placed him on a no-fly list….
“It looks like I underestimated you,” Rebecca went on softly. “Well done, Daphne.”
For years Daphne had been striving for that note of pride in her mother’s voice, and now that she had finally earned it, she just felt hollow. She didn’t especially care what Rebecca thought anymore. Perhaps when her mother had slapped her, it had knocked Daphne’s compulsion to please her right out of her brain, the way you might shake the last candy from abox.
The entire room seemed to be staring at Ambrose Madison. He stood, his voice thunderous as he shouted, “You did this. How dare you?”
For a wild moment Daphne thought he was yelling at her. After all, this had beenherdoing. But then she realized his invective had been directed at the queen.
Beatrice met his gaze coolly. “Your Grace?”
“You crazy—” He used a word that was not typically spoken in polite company, certainly not to Her Majesty. “You’re mentally damaged, and everyone knows it!”
Before he could say more, a burly Revere Guard approached to escort him out of the room. “Get your hands offme,” the duke exclaimed. He prodded his family, who quickly turned toward the exit, all of them sneering haughtily.
Everyone was watching the Madisons’ retreat amid a low roar of speculation, so they didn’t notice Daphne leaving the Grand Gallery through the opposite door.
She ducked through a service corridor, ignoring the footmen’s shock as she wove around their carts full of empty wineglasses or dirty dinner plates. “Excuse me!” she chirped, and reemerged into the main hallway near the front entrance.
“Gabriella!”
The duke and duchess looked over their shoulders. When they saw that it was Daphne, they turned aside, pulling James in their wake—but Gabriella’s steps slowed.
“I need to talk to you,” Daphne said quietly. She jerked her head toward an alcove, and Gabriella warily followed, standing near a suit of armor.
“I know you’re here to gloat, but nothing will come of this,” Gabriella insisted. “Daddy isn’t going to prison.”
As she tugged her expensive mink coat tighter around her shoulders, vulnerability—and fear—flashed across her features. For a moment, Daphne almost felt sorry for her.
“Gabriella, your father is guilty,” she said gently.
“Who said anything about guilt or innocence? He won’t go to jail because no one would ever send him there.” Gabriella laughed, a caustic, cynical sound, and Daphne’s momentary sympathy for her evaporated. “He skimmed a little money from some accounts. So what? That’s how the world works.”
“It doesn’t have to work that way.” How did Gabriella possibly think it was okay for her family, who had so much of everything, to steal from people who hadless?
Daphne decided to get straight to the point. Her plan was almost complete, as long as she could play this last card.
