I excused myself before she could respond, my heart hammering.I'd just been rude to one of the Queen's friends.Viktor would probably hear about this within the hour.
But I'd also stood up for myself instead of apologizing for existing.That had to count for something.
I retreated to a quieter corner of the gallery, needing a moment to breathe, when Archie appeared at my elbow.
"I saw you talking to Lady Caroline."His voice was unreadable.
"Did you also see me barely resisting the urge to throw my drink in her face?"
"I saw you handle an extremely difficult conversation with grace and dignity."He paused."I also saw her walk away looking like she'd been outsmarted, which was satisfying to watch."
Despite everything, my lips twitched."She implied I was careless with my reputation."
"She implied you were careless with your behavior.You corrected her by pointing out the difference between living your life and performing for critics."He looked at me seriously."It was the right response."
"Your mother isn't going to think so."
"My mother isn't married to you.I am."He seemed to catch himself."I mean, for however long we're doing this.Six months, or whatever."
The awkwardness in his voice would have been funny if it didn't make my chest ache."Right.Six months."
A photographer approached, asking for a photo of us together.We moved closer, his arm sliding around my waist.The contact made me hyperaware of everywhere we were touching, his hand on my hip, the press of his shoulder against mine, the heat of him through our formal clothes.
"Smile," the photographer instructed.
We smiled.The camera flashed.Archie's thumb moved in a small circle against my waist, barely noticeable to anyone watching, but I felt it like a brand through the silk.
"Perfect," the photographer said, moving away to capture other guests.
Archie's hand didn't immediately leave my waist."Betty, about this morning.The things I said—"
"Were hurtful and unfair, yes."I stepped away, needing distance before I did something stupid like lean into him."But we're not doing this here."
"When, then?"
"I don't know.When I'm less angry.When you've figured out whether you actually believe I'm telling the truth or whether you're always going to wonder what else I'm hiding."
"I believe you."
"Do you?Because this morning you accused me of having a 'colorful romantic history' and lacking dignity and self-respect."
He winced."I was jealous."
"You were cruel."
"I know."His voice dropped lower, meant only for me."And I'm sorry.I'm so sorry, Betty.I looked at those photos and I couldn't think straight.All I could see was you with someone else, laughing and happy, and it made me crazy."
"You don't have a right to be jealous of my past."
"I know that too.But my brain didn't get the memo."He ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident in every line of his body."You were right about the timing.Right about someone orchestrating this.And instead of standing with you, I made it worse."
The admission cost him something.I could see it in the tension of his shoulders, the set of his jaw.Archie wasn't used to being wrong, wasn't practiced at apologies.The fact that he was trying meant something.
It just didn't mean enough to erase the hurt.
"I need time," I said finally."To think about what this means.About whether we can actually make this work or whether we're just going to keep hurting each other."
"How much time?"
