"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?"
