But for once in her carefully managed life, she was going to risk it all.
And all it would take would be one train ticket to Manchester.
Chapter Thirty-Three
The taxi horn blared again, sharp and insistent.
"Bloody hell," she muttered, trying to run down the large stone stairs and simultaneously check that she had her phone, her wallet, and at least some semblance of her dignity intact.
"Where are you going?" Ambrose's voice came from behind her, and she turned to find him standing in the doorway.
"London," Sasha said breathlessly, turning back from the taxi. "Amb, I’m sorry, but I have to… I just… do."
His face transformed, confusion melting into pure delight. "You're going after her? Really?"
"I think so. Maybe. Yes." The words tumbled out in a rush. "I don't know, I just know I can't sit here anymore doing nothing. I have to at least try, don't I? Even if she tells me to sod off, at least I'll have tried."
Ambrose pulled her into a fierce hug, nearly knocking her off balance. "I'm absolutely furious you'll miss my birthday, but I suppose love must conquer all and whatnot."
"I'm not so sure about the conquering part," Sasha admitted, her voice muffled against his shoulder. "More like love must make a complete fool of itself on public transportation."
"Oh, for heaven's sake." Lady Alexandra's voice cut across the gravel drive like a whip crack. She was standing in the doorway behind Ambrose, already dressed for dinner, looking thoroughly unimpressed with the entire display. "If you're going to be a Sullivan, you'll need more backbone than that."
Sasha pulled back from Ambrose, startled. "I'm not… we're not… I mean, Victoria and I haven't even…"
"Don't be tiresome, dear. Of course you are." Lady Alexandra waved a dismissive hand. "Now go before you miss your train and turn this into an even more dramatic production than it already is."
Ambrose grinned, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "See? You're part of the family already. Grandmother's never wrong about these things."
"Except about that hedge maze redesign in 1987," Lady Alexandra said crisply. "That was a disaster. But I'm right about this."
The taxi driver leaned on the horn again, longer this time, and Sasha ran back down the steps, calling her thanks over her shoulder.
???
Victoria stood at the ticket counter at Euston, her credit card hovering over the payment terminal while the queue behind her shuffled and sighed with increasing impatience.
"I'm sorry, madam, but the card's been declined," the clerk said for the second time, her voice taking on that particular tone of customer service patience wearing thin.
"That's impossible. Try it again, please."
The clerk sighed heavily and keyed in the payment once more with the air of someone who knew exactly how this would end. The terminal beeped its rejection, and Victoria felt her stomach drop.
Had her father actually frozen her accounts? Would he do that? Surely not. He wouldn’t have done that. Would he?
Then she looked down at the card in her hand and realized, with a wave of something between relief and complete mortification, that she was holding her business card. The one from the bank. The one that didn't work anymore because she'd bloody well quit.
"Christ," she muttered, digging through her wallet with hands that weren't entirely steady. "I'm so sorry. Wrong card entirely. Here."
She thrust her personal card at the clerk, who took it with the expression of someone who'd seen it all before and was thoroughly unimpressed by all of it.
This time the payment went through, and Victoria nearly sagged against the counter with relief.
"Platform seven," the clerk said, handing over the ticket with barely concealed disdain. "Though I should mention there's a delay on that service. About twenty minutes."
"Of course there is," Victoria said tightly, taking the ticket and stepping aside before the people behind her could actually murder her.
She made her way to platform seven, her heels clicking an aggressive rhythm against the station floor. Around her, Euston bustled with its usual chaos—tourists consulting maps, businesspeople barking into phones, families corralling small children and enormous amounts of luggage.
