Sophie materialized from behind a topiary hedge, looking like she'd been awake all night. Her hair was escaping from its ponytail, and there were yet more scratch marks on her arms.
"What's wrong?" Sasha asked, though she had a fairly good idea.
"It's a disaster. A complete disaster. Livingstone got out again, and when I went to catch him, I left the door open and three more made a break for it. I've got four kittens loose in a house that's about to be invaded by a bunch of people who will definitely notice cat hair on their dinner jackets."
"Right." Sasha looked around, noting the increasing activity as party preparations ramped up. "Go and catch them and lock them up. I’ll keep an eye out. But once you’ve got them all, you really need to move them. All of them."
"Move them where?"
"One of the outbuildings. The old stable block, maybe? Somewhere away from the main house where they won't be discovered by guests looking for the loo."
Sophie's face lit up with relief. "The stable block! Why didn't I think of that? There's running water and everything. I could set up a proper sanctuary."
"Exactly. But find the escapees first. Off you go. I’ll try and run some interference if I can." Sasha squeezed her shoulder. "And Sophie? After the party, you're going to have to tell your parents."
"I know." Sophie's voice was small. "I just… what if they make me get rid of them?"
"What if they don't? What if they help you find proper homes, or set up a real rescue operation? You won't know until you trust them enough to try."
Sophie nodded, looking slightly less terrified, and hurried off toward the house with renewed purpose.
She was just sneaking in through the terrace doors when she ran smack into Archie, who looked like he’d been pulled through a hedge backward.
"What on earth happened?" she couldn’t help but ask.
"Eugh. Only the worst possible thing at the worst possible time."
"What's wrong now?"
"Venetia's cancelled. Food poisoning, apparently, though I suspect she's just having second thoughts about meeting the family as a potential mate. Which leaves me completely dateless for tonight with a house full of people expecting me to produce a future Lady Sullivan."
"Right," Sasha said, trying to look sympathetic while privately thinking that maybe the universe was trying to tell him something. "That's… unfortunate."
"Unfortunate? It's a disaster! I can't show up alone. What will people think? What will Grandmother say?" He was pacing now,working himself into a proper state. "I need to find someone else. Quickly. Maybe Charlotte's available? Or that girl from the village, what's her name…"
"I'm sure you'll figure something out," Sasha said diplomatically. "Maybe, um… Look a little closer to home?"
"Yes, right. Think, Archie, think." He hurried off, muttering to himself about backup plans and social catastrophes.
She made their way back through the house, avoiding caterers and cleaners and Lady Charlotte who was floating through everything like a galleon.
Then she climbed the stairs to Victoria's room, their room, feeling suddenly, inexplicably nervous. The space smelled faintly of that expensive perfume Victoria wore, clean and floral and entirely too appealing for someone who was supposed to be maintaining emotional distance.
She sat on the edge of the bed, fingering the necklace Ambrose had given her. In a few hours, Victoria would be back from London, probably full of excitement about her interview and her inevitable job offer. At some point, Ambrose would tell his grandmother the truth, and their little charade would be officially over. And Monday…
Monday she'd go back to Manchester and pretend the last two weeks had been exactly what they'd agreed they were: a bit of fun, nothing more.
But sitting here in the quiet room, surrounded by the scent of Victoria's perfume and the memory of tangled sheets and whispered conversations in the dark, Sasha found herself wondering if she'd been an idiot to agree to keeping things light.
Maybe she should be honest. Maybe when Victoria got back, she should tell her that this had stopped being casual somewhere between the greenhouse kisses and the midnightconfessions. That she'd like to see where this could go, distance and different worlds be damned.
Maybe, for once in her life, she should fight for something instead of just letting it slip away.
The question was whether she was brave enough to risk everything on maybe.
Chapter Twenty-Six
The taxi dropped Victoria at the front door just as the evening hit that perfect golden hour. Music drifted from the terrace, punctuated by laughter and champagne glasses. Her mother's house party was clearly in full swing, which meant Victoria had missed cocktails and probably several rounds of her grandmother's pointed observations about punctuality.
