Chapter Eleven
Sharing a room with someone you were desperately trying not to think about, Victoria discovered, made concentrating on anything else virtually impossible.
She'd claimed the morning room again, laptop open, phone charged, and three different recruitment websites open.
Everything she needed to conduct the sort of intensive job hunting that would salvage her career and restore her dignity.
What she didn't need was the lingering scent of Sasha's perfume on her pillowcase, or the memory of soft breathing from the day bed, or the way Sasha had looked that morning with her hair mussed from sleep and her nightdress slightly rumpled.
Focus, she told herself sternly. Career. Future. Very important things that had nothing to do with the way Sasha's mouth curved when she smiled.
Her phone rang, a headhunter from a prestigious firm in the City.
"Victoria Sullivan speaking."
"Ms Sullivan, this is Caroline Wright from Henderson Associates. I have an exciting opportunity that I think would be perfect for—"
Through the window, she caught sight of Sasha working in the herb garden, carefully transplanting what looked like basil seedlings under Cathy's watchful eye. The morning sun caught the gold in her hair, and she was frowning in concentration.
"—significant client portfolio and the sort of strategic thinking that would really—"
Sasha wiped her forehead with the back of her hand, leaving a small smudge of soil, and Victoria found herself smiling involuntarily.
"Ms. Sullivan? Are you still there?"
"Yes, sorry. Could you repeat that last part?"
Twenty minutes later, she'd somehow managed to schedule another interview while retaining absolutely no information about the actual position. This was getting ridiculous.
She forced herself to close the laptop and look away from the window. What she needed was caffeine and a stern talking-to about professional priorities. What she got was her mother appearing in the doorway with the sort of bright smile that usually preceded social obligations.
"Darling, perfect timing. Archie's brought someone for lunch, and I do think we should all make an effort."
Victoria felt a familiar sinking sensation. "Anyone I should be warned about?"
"A lovely girl called Georgina. Very… enthusiastic. She's already declared the flowers in the entrance hall to be 'aesthetically pleasing.'"
"Right." Victoria saved her work and stood up. "Let me guess, she's got opinions about the curtains too?"
"Among other things.'" Lady Charlotte's smile was diplomatic but strained. "I think your grandmother may need moral support."
LUNCH WAS SERVED on the terrace in deference to the continuing heat, and Victoria arrived to find Georgina holding court. She was precisely the type Archie always brought home: blonde, beautiful, and possessed of the sort of confident ignorance that came from never having been contradicted.
"—and I was saying to Archie that these gardens are just crying out for some modern touches," Georgina was explaining to the table at large. "Maybe some statement sculptures? Something contemporary to balance all this… heritage."
Lady Alexandra's eyebrows had climbed to her hairline. "Heritage?"
"You know, all the old-fashioned stuff. Don't get me wrong, it's very authentic, but authenticity doesn't really photograph well for the press, does it?"
Sasha caught Victoria's eye across the table and made the smallest grimace of solidarity. Victoria found herself fighting back a smile.
"I rather like authenticity," Ambrose said mildly, though his attention was clearly focused on the figure of Lukas working among the roses in the distance.
"Oh, it's fine for some people," Georgina said airily. "But honestly, haven’t we all had enough of this old stuff? Isn’t it a bit…" She waved her hand vaguely. "Dusty?"
Sir Archibald emerged from behind his newspaper long enough to fix Georgina with a stare that could have withered the topiary.
Meanwhile, Cathy appeared at Victoria's elbow with a plate of sandwiches, moving with the sort of quiet efficiency that came from years of managing family gatherings. She was, Victoria noticed, studiously avoiding looking in Archie's direction.
"Thank you, Cathy," Victoria said warmly. "Everything looks lovely."
"Mrs. Henderson's outdone herself with the salmon," Cathy replied, then moved on to serve the others.
Victoria assumed someone in the kitchen must be sick or on holiday to have Cathy stepping in at the table.
She looked over at her brother. But Archie, who was deep in conversation with Georgina, didn't even glance up as Cathy refilled his water glass.
Victoria felt a flash of irritation on Cathy's behalf.
"—and Sasha, darling," Lady Alexandra was saying, her voice carrying the sort of crisp authority that commanded attention, "Ambrose says you're still exploring your options career-wise? No decision yet?"
Victoria tensed, recognizing the slight edge in her grandmother's tone. This was judgment disguised as polite inquiry.
"Not yet," Sasha replied cheerfully, apparently oblivious to the trap being laid. "I'm taking time to really consider what I want to do next."
"How… nice," Lady Alexandra said, the pause loaded with meaning. "Young people nowadays seem to think life is one long gap year."
"I hardly think—" Victoria began, but her grandmother continued smoothly.
"Of course, some of us were raised to understand that purpose and direction are rather important qualities. But I suppose modern thinking is rather different about such things."
Victoria felt heat rise in her cheeks. The criticism was subtle but unmistakable, and watching Sasha's face carefully maintain its pleasant expression while absorbing the hit made something protective flare in Victoria's chest.
"Actually, I think taking time to find the right path is quite sensible," Victoria said firmly, with a decided flash of Déjà vu. Why had she become Sasha’s protector? "Better to explore properly than to rush into something unsuitable."
Her grandmother's eyebrows rose. "Indeed? How… progressive of you, dear."
"It's practical," Victoria continued, aware that her parents were watching this exchange with interest. "Sasha's clearly thoughtful about making the right choice rather than just taking the first thing that comes along. I think that shows excellent judgment."
Across the table, Ambrose was staring at her with something approaching panic, probably terrified that Victoria was about to blow their entire charade by jumping across the table and snogging his date.
"Besides," Victoria added, warming to her theme, "some of the most successful people I know took unconventional paths. There's more than one way to build a meaningful career." Maybe she was defending herself too, who knew?
"Hear, hear," Sophie said, raising her water glass in a mock toast. As she did, Lady Alexandra let out a delicate sneeze.
"Bless you, Grandmother," Victoria said automatically.
"Thank you, dear." Lady Alexandra dabbed at her nose with her napkin, looking puzzled. "How strange. I do seem to be developing the most peculiar sensitivity lately."
Sophie went very still.
"Perhaps it's hay fever," their mother suggested diplomatically. "The weather's been so warm."
"—completely transform this place," Georgina was saying to Archie, apparently having moved on to wholesale renovation already. "I mean, imagine what we could do with some proper lighting and maybe some modern art? Get rid of all these dreary old paintings and put up something with actual energy."
Victoria glanced at the "dreary old paintings" in question, a collection that included two Constables and a Reynolds that would probably fund a small country's education budget.
"The art collection has been in the family for generations," Archie said, though his tone suggested he was already wavering.
"Exactly! So stuffy. What you need is something that speaks to people today. I know this amazing artist who does incredible work with neon and recycled materials. Very now."
Sir Archibald's newspaper rustled ominously.
Victoria caught Cathy's expression as she served the dessert course, a carefully neutral mask that didn't quite hide the flash of pain in her eyes.
Cathy knew this estate better than anyone, had grown up here, understood its history and its rhythms. And she was watching the man she'd quietly loved for years discuss plans to strip away everything that made it special.
Victoria made a decision. Enough was enough.
"Archie," she said casually, "didn't you mention that the south wall needed attention? I'm sure Cathy would have thoughts about the drainage issues there."
Cathy looked up, surprised to be drawn into the conversation.
"The drainage is a bit concerning," she agreed quietly. "The wet weather yesterday showed up some problems with the guttering."
"See?" Victoria said brightly. "Practical considerations. Much more important than neon installations."
But Archie had already turned back to Georgina, who was showing him something on her phone with breathless enthusiasm.
"—and this is the artist's Instagram. Look at those engagement numbers! Imagine what we could do with the right documentation of the transformation process."
Victoria caught Cathy's slight wince and felt another flash of irritation. How could Archie be so blind?
"Cathy's been managing the grounds beautifully," she said, a bit more pointedly. "The rose garden's never looked better."
"Oh, roses," Georgina said dismissively. "So traditional. What about something more exciting? Maybe some tropical plants? Or architectural grasses?"
"In Cornwall?" Cathy said quietly. "I'm not sure the climate would—"
"Climate's just a mindset," Georgina announced confidently. "With the right attitude, you can make anything work."
Victoria saw Cathy's professional mask slip for just a moment, revealing a flash of genuine incredulity, and had to press her napkin to her mouth to hide a snort of laughter.
The meal continued. Victoria found herself stealing glances at Sasha, who was navigating Lady Alexandra's continued subtle questioning with impressive grace. She really was quite beautiful in a way that Victoria really hadn’t considered before.
Sort of… magnetic. All innocence and yet… there was something underneath...
"—and naturally, one hopes that Ambrose's friends understand the importance of… stability," Lady Alexandra was saying delicately.
"I think stability's overrated," Sasha replied with a grin. "Some of the most interesting people I know are the ones who took risks, who weren't afraid to change direction when something wasn't working."
Victoria felt herself flush.
"Though I suppose," Sasha continued thoughtfully, "true stability comes from knowing yourself well enough to make good choices, doesn't it? Rather than just following someone else's idea of what you should want."
Victoria’s flush extended down well below her neckline.
WHEN LUNCH FINALLY ended and people began dispersing to various afternoon activities, Victoria lingered on the terrace, ostensibly to finish her coffee but actually to watch Sasha help clear the table with easy efficiency.
She moved naturally in the space, comfortable with the family rhythm in a way that suggested she genuinely belonged here.
"Don’t mess this up for me, Vic." Ambrose’s voice came from behind her.
She turned, then sighed. "Wasn’t planning on it."
"Good." He raked a hand through his hair. "I don’t often get the chance to be a good boy, so I’m grabbing this one with both hands."
"Not the only thing you’re grabbing with both hands," she couldn’t help but say.
Ambrose groaned. "Listen, it’s just a few more days. Then I’ll come clean and you can do as you please, I’ll make a move on Lukas, and everyone will go back to being disappointed in me, alright?"
She opened her mouth to protest that she’d never been disappointed in her baby brother, but he was already marching into the hall.
She sighed again, shaking her head, then catching a glimpse of Sasha as she made her way back down to the gardens.
The afternoon light caught her hair, and Victoria felt that familiar flutter in her stomach.
Tonight, she decided, she was definitely taking a sleeping pill.
Because another night of lying awake listening to Sasha breathe, thinking about the way she'd defended herself at lunch and the confident set of her shoulders and the curve of her smile when she thought no one was looking, would probably finish Victoria off entirely.
At least unconsciousness was a solution to the problem of wanting things she had no business wanting.
Though as solutions went, it felt distinctly like taking the easy option.