It turned out that Daphne, despite her long hours of preparation, was just not cut out for lady-like countenance. Ambrose had been correct – it did not come naturally to her, as it did to some other ladies.
"I shall come with you," Joyce interjected.
Before anyone else could say anything, Daphne turned and hurried from the table, not waiting for any further reactions from the guests.
As she made her way across the room, she could feel Ambrose's gaze following her. It burned into her back. She couldnotget out of there fast enough, it seemed.
"Well, that was quite the display," Joyce said once they reached their chambers, her lips twitching with barely contained laughter. "What on earth happened in there?"
Daphne let out a loud groan, "Oh, I have ruined everything, have I not?"
Joyce put a sympathetic hand on her sister's shoulders. "Well, you won. I suppose that has to count for something."
"I just..." Daphne anguished, "I do not know what came over me."
"I do," Joyce laughed, "It is your competitive spirit, of course. We have seen it in you ever since you were a little child. If anything, I was quite impressed with the self-restraint you managed to exhibit in those first rounds..."
"I thought I was making such good progress," Daphne lamented, shaking her head. "Only to wash it away because I could not keep my emotions in check. I am glad that Richard was not there to witness the scene, otherwise, what would he have thought about me?"
"Well, was it not enough that his older brother was?" Joyce said, a teasing edge to her voice.
"Oh god," Daphne buried her face in her hands. "This is exactly what he wanted – I am sure. He must be so gleeful right now, at having being proven right."
"Daphne, perhaps you are being a tad too hard on yourself," Joyce mused. "Yes, you were a little... over-eager. But it was fair play – you had just won, of course. I am sure that everyone will forget it swiftly, and not hold it against you like some terrible grudge."
Daphne shook her head. "Ambrose will remember."
Joyce was silent for a moment, her expression thoughtful. "Well, perhaps he will take from it something else than what you imagine."
Daphne frowned. "And what's that supposed to mean?"
Joyce shrugged. "If you didn't impress the Duke with your ladylike grace?—"
"I didn't," Daphne interrupted glumly.
"—then you certainly impressed him with something else."
"What is thissecretthing that you keep bringing up but not explaining?" Daphne said, irked.
"Oh, it is no secret to anyone who knows you. Yourcompetitiveness,of course. That spark you've always had. The way you wouldn't back down, even when he was practically daring you to fold."
Daphne shot her sister a confused look. "And that is supposed to impress him?"
"Well, surely you did not win his approval at being a demure lady. But I am sure that he respects you as a competitor at cards," Joyce nodded, "Which might not be ideal. But does itmatter? He is not the one whom you are trying to marry. You can save your poised elegance for Richard."
Daphne almost laughed at the ridiculousness of her sisters words.
"The Duke? Respecting me? Please – that man has wanted nothing more than to sabotage my chances since the day we met..."
"Hmm."
"What?" Daphne asked, crossing her arms out in front of her.
"Oh I don't know, Daphne," she tried to sound nonchalant, "But I will say that he seemed awfully invested in your moves tonight."
"Because he wishes tosabotageme."
"Attention is attention," Joyce commented.
