She laughed. “Not ideal, perhaps, but it seemed faster than expecting you to get across that room without being stopped to talk,” she said. We emerged into a wide corridor. “Here we go. My office is this way.”

She opened the door into a room done in cream and gray, with a few pops of color in the form of picture frames, and throw pillows on her low, modern couch. A large window overlooked Dam Square; across to the right I could see the line still forming outside Madame Tussauds, where a wax Freddie and Daphne had appeared a week ago.

Daphne gestured to her private powder room, and I gratefully availed myself of it, then came out to find her gazing at her engagement photo, framed and sitting in her bookcase. It was the one with the makeup in Freddie’s beard. He was staring at the camera and giving his best parody of Blue Steel, and she was cracking up. It was freaking adorable.

“I remember so well the day we met, Daphne,” I said. “You were a ball of nerves, and look at you now.”

“You were so direct with me, at a time when so few people were. I’ll never forget it.” She reached out and touched Freddie’s face in the photo. “My eyes are open, you know,” she said. “I know I am not the love of his life. Not yet. He’s protective of me. He cares about me. I think he can fall in love with me, in time. And I truly believe he will never hurt me.” She looked back at me. “I can give him understanding, and loyalty, and a place of his own. A place where there are no shadows.” Here, her glance went to my stomach, then back to my face. “He needs it so badly. I hope you support that.”

We held each other’s gaze, and then I drew her in for a hug, awkward though it was over my bulk. I wanted to tell her that Eleanor had felt the same thing, once upon a time; that she had clung to the idea that she could love her husband enough for both of them, and it hadn’t worked out. But history had repeated itself more than enough for one era.

“Freddie has never once doubted this,” I said instead. “It’s what he wants. So it’s what we all want.”

“I’m so glad we understand each other.” She kissed my cheek. “Let’s get you back. Someone is probably upset that we’re both gone, and it won’t do for this party to turn into a manhunt.” She grinned. “Goodness knows where they’ll find Edwin and Elizabeth.”

Our laughter bounced raucously around the stairwell as we descended.

*  *  *

“I should have stopped at least one negroni ago,” Nick moaned, sliding onto the sofa in our guest quarters. “Those bartenders had heavy hands.”