Epilogue #4
"What's she saying?" Archie yelled.
"I don't…" Victoria started.
One of the burning snowflakes landed on the gazebo's roof.
The gazebo, which was apparently made of extremely flammable wood, began to smoke.
Then it began to actually burn.
"Fire!" Ambrose shouted from above. "The gazebo’s on fire!" He began to scramble down the trellises.
Fromage, startled by the shouting, let out a panicked moo and bolted. The ring box bounced wildly on its ribbon as she charged directly toward the rose display, scattering flowers and nearly taking out Lady Alexandra in the process.
"Fromage, no!" Sophie went running after her.
Cathy was still sneezing. The gazebo was actively burning. Pani Kaminska was screaming in Polish. Sir Archibald had appeared from somewhere with a fire extinguisher.
And Lukas came sprinting across the garden with a bucket of water, took one look at the flaming gazebo, and hurled the entire contents upward.
The fire sputtered and died.
The gazebo dripped.
Ambrose climbed down, covered in soot and looking sheepish.
Victoria stood in the middle of the chaos, burning gazebo, scattered roses, traumatized calf, screaming Polish grandmother, and felt her perfect proposal crumble into ash around her.
IN THE AFTERMATH, everyone scattered into crisis mode.
Sir Archibald was inspecting the gazebo damage with the grim efficiency of someone calculating repair costs.
Ambrose had climbed down completely now, trying to brush soot off his clothes while Pani Kaminska fussed over him in Polish.
Sophie was chasing Fromage around the garden, the calf having decided that chaos was the perfect time for freedom.
Cathy had finally stopped sneezing and was leaning against Archie, both of them looking exhausted.
Lady Charlotte was directing people, calling for blankets and tea and someone to please check if the gazebo was structurally sound.
No one was paying any attention to Victoria at all.
She stood there in the garden, surrounded by ash and scattered roses and the smoking remains of her perfect proposal, and started laughing.
She couldn't help it. The absurdity of it all, the meticulous planning, the family involvement, the burning gazebo, the sneezing sister-in-law, the bolting calf with the ring box still attached to her collar. Every single element had gone spectacularly, magnificently wrong.
"Are you alright?" Sasha asked, looking concerned.
"I'm perfect." Victoria was still laughing, that slightly unhinged laugh that came from equal parts stress and relief. "This is perfect. All of it."
"The gazebo's on fire."
"Was on fire. Past tense. We're very efficient at disaster management."
Sasha reached out, brushed some ash off Victoria's shoulder. "You were trying to propose."
"I was. I had a whole speech prepared. It was very romantic. Very moving. You would have cried."
"Would I?"
"Possibly. There was a bit about how you make me want to be less perfect and more human. Very touching."
"Sounds lovely."
"It was. I practiced." Victoria took a breath, felt something settle in her chest. All the planning, all the perfection she'd been chasing, none of it mattered. Not really.
She dropped to one knee, right there in the muddy, ash-covered grass.
Sasha's eyes went wide. "Victoria…"
"Marry me," Victoria said. No speech, no flowers, no perfect timing. Just the truth. "I love you. Marry me."
For a moment, Sasha just stared at her. Then her face broke into the most beautiful smile Victoria had ever seen.
"Yes," Sasha said. "Obviously, yes."
Victoria stood up, pulled Sasha into a kiss that tasted like smoke and laughter and everything good in the world. When they broke apart, both of them were grinning like idiots.
"Your ring's over there, by the way," Victoria said, pointing to where Fromage was now rolling enthusiastically in a muddy patch near the stables, the ring box still dangling from her collar.
"Of course it is."
"Sophie will get it. Eventually."
Sasha laughed, wrapped her arms around Victoria's waist. "I should probably tell you something, too."
"If it's that you're secretly allergic to Christmas roses, I'm going to be very upset."
"No. Though that would be on-brand for today." Sasha took a breath. "Lukas offered me a job. Here. In the gardens. Cathy's going on maternity leave and they need someone to help with the spring planting, and he thought, well, he asked if I'd be interested."
Victoria felt her heart get bigger. "And are you?"
"Very. But I wanted to check with you first. It would mean moving back to Cornwall. Leaving Manchester. It would potentially mean moving back in with your family, which might not be something that you want."
"I work for myself now," Victoria said. "I can work from anywhere.
And honestly?" She looked around at the chaos, her father now attempting to console Pani Kaminska, her mother organizing the cleanup, Sophie finally catching Fromage, Ambrose and Lukas standing close together looking relieved the fire was out.
"I can't think of anywhere I'd rather be. "
"Even with the burning gazebos and traumatized livestock?"
"Especially with the burning gazebos and traumatized livestock."
"You've changed," Sasha said softly. "From that woman who showed up two and a half years ago so focused on being perfect she couldn't see what was right in front of her."
"I had a good teacher." Victoria kissed her again, soft and sweet. "The best teacher."
"Oh my God, did she say yes?" Sophie's voice carried across the garden. "She said yes!"
And just like that, the family converged.
Lady Charlotte was crying and hugging them both. Sir Archibald was smiling in his restrained way, patting Victoria's shoulder with genuine affection. Ambrose wrapped them both in a hug that smelled like smoke and triumph. Even Cathy waddled over to offer congratulations between residual sniffles.
Pani Kaminska said something in Polish that sounded extremely enthusiastic, hugging Sasha and then Victoria with surprising strength for such a small woman.
Lady Alexandra remained seated on her bench. When Victoria caught her eye, her grandmother raised her gin glass in a small salute. "That was certainly the most entertaining proposal I've ever witnessed. And I've witnessed quite a few in my time."
"Was it memorable enough, Grandmama?" Victoria asked.
"My dear girl, I suspect we'll be talking about the Great Gazebo Fire for years to come. Well done."
Sophie finally made it back with Fromage, who looked extremely pleased with herself despite the muddy ring box still dangling from her collar. "Got it!" Sophie detached the box, wiped it on her jumper, and handed it to Victoria with a flourish. "One slightly cow-slobbered engagement ring."
Victoria opened the box. The ring was perfect, a simple band with a single stone that caught the last rays of sunset. She took Sasha's hand, slid it onto her finger.
"Perfect fit," Sasha said, admiring it.
"I measured one of your other rings while you were asleep. Very stealth."
"Very creepy."
"Romantically creepy."
They were both covered in ash, surrounded by the smoking ruins of Victoria's perfect proposal, and Victoria had never been happier in her entire life.
Because this, standing here with Sasha's hand in hers, her family around them, everything a beautiful disaster, this was perfect. Not the planned, controlled perfection she'd spent years chasing. The messy, chaotic, wonderful perfection of real life.
"I love you," she said, for approximately the hundredth time that day.
"I love you too." Sasha leaned in close, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Though I have to say, if this is what your proposals are like, I'm terrified to see what you'll do for the wedding."
"The wedding," Victoria said firmly, "will be completely simple and elegant with no animals, no fires, and absolutely no family involvement."
From across the garden, Lady Charlotte's voice rang out: "Oh darling, don't be ridiculous. We'll need to start planning immediately. Spring wedding, I think. In the gardens. We could have Fromage as a flower girl…"
"No," Victoria and Sasha said in unison.
But they were both laughing, and around them the family was already descending into happy chaos, making plans and suggestions and generally being exactly as overwhelming as the Sullivans always were.
And Victoria, standing in the ruins of her perfect proposal with her perfect fiancée, wouldn't have changed a single thing.
Well. Maybe the gazebo fire.
But everything else was exactly as it should be.