"Since the beginning." Lady Alexandra smiled, not unkindly. "You both tried very hard, though."
"We're sorry. We didn't mean to…"
"Lie to my face?" But there was amusement in Lady Alexandra's voice. "I appreciate the effort, truly. And I understand why Ambrose felt he needed to. My son hasn't done him any favors with all that nonsense about discretion and propriety."
Sasha blinked. "You know about Lukas?"
"My dear girl, I may be old, but I'm not blind. The way Ambrose looks at that boy could melt steel." Lady Alexandrapicked up her gin again. "I don't care who he loves. I do care that he felt he couldn't be honest with me."
The words settled between them, weighted with something that made Sasha's throat tight.
"It's not that simple," Sasha said quietly.
"Isn't it? Either you trust someone with the truth or you don't. Ambrose chose not to trust me. That's what hurts, not his taste in men."
"He was scared."
"Of course he was. But fear doesn't excuse dishonesty." Lady Alexandra's gaze was steady. "The truth can hurt, Sasha. But it's always, always better than the alternative. Lies rot things from the inside out, even well-intentioned ones."
Sasha thought about Victoria. About walking away without explaining, without giving her the choice. About deciding what was best for both of them without actually asking.
"You look like you’ve had an epiphany," sniffed Lady Alexandra. "So I’ll give you the benefit of my experience, and tell you that the right thing to do is to be honest. To tell her how you feel and let her decide what she wants to do about it."
Sasha felt herself begin to panic. "Her… She… What?"
Lady Alexandra waved her off. "Oh please, stop treating me like a stupid old woman and start worrying about your own problems. And those of my oldest granddaughter."
Sasha blushed and shut her mouth.
"Pride," Lady Alexandra continued, "is a tricky thing. It dresses itself up as selflessness, as doing what's best for everyone. But really, it's just fear in fancy clothes. Fear of being vulnerable, fear of being rejected, fear of wanting something you might not get."
Sasha felt something crack in her chest. "What if I tell her and she doesn't feel the same way?"
"Then at least you'll know. At least you'll have been honest."
THE BARN WAS warm and smelled of hay and cat. Sophie was sprawled on the ground, surrounded by a writhing mass of kittens, while Lady Charlotte took photos with her phone. Lukas stood nearby, looking indulgent, while Sir Archibald examined a particularly adventurous tabby that had climbed up his trousers.
Ambrose appeared at Sasha's elbow as she approached. "How was Grandmother?"
"Terrifying. Wise. Terrifyingly wise." Sasha accepted a kitten from Sophie, a tiny orange thing that immediately tried to eat her finger. "She knew. About us."
"Course she did." Ambrose didn't look surprised. "Come on, let’s get a drink."
They walked slowly back toward the house, leaving the others to their feline chaos. The afternoon sun was starting to slant golden through the trees, light that made everything look softer.
"So," Sasha said carefully, "how's Victoria been?"
Ambrose was quiet for a beat too long. "Busy. New job's intense, apparently. She called last week, but we didn't talk long."
"Right."
"She didn't mention you."
"Why would she?"
"Exactly." Ambrose's voice was pointed. "Why would she mention the person she was clearly falling for all summer? Why would she bring up someone she hasn't stopped thinking about for two weeks? Mystery."
Sasha kicked at a stone in the path. "She's got a new life now."
