Sasha snorted. "You told Sophie her calf looked like 'a gangly potato with legs.'"
"Fromagedoeslook like a gangly potato with legs. I was being accurate, not mean."
They packed in comfortable silence for a few minutes, Victoria's mental checklist running on repeat:Ring. Check. Weather forecast promising snow. Check. Flowers ordered from Lukas for the terrace. Check. Sunset at 4:47 PM, giving her exactly seventeen minutes of golden hour light. Check.
She'd arranged everything perfectly. The family would be occupied with Christmas preparations, giving her the privacy she needed. The terrace would be strung with lights, it always was. She'd even written out her proposal speech, which was currently folded in her wallet, memorized down to the last syllable.
Nothing could go wrong.
Forty-eight hours. One perfect proposal. She'd faced down hostile investors and emergency board meetings. How hard could one marriage proposal possibly be?
THE HOUSE LOOKED like a Christmas card that had been attacked by a very enthusiastic child with glitter and too many ideas.
Every window blazed with light, garlands draped across the stonework, and someone had hung an enormous wreath on the front door.
Victoria had barely gotten out of the car before the front door burst open and Sophie came flying down the steps, seventeen now and somehow even more chaotic than she'd been at fifteen.
"You're here! Finally! Cathy's being absolutely foul about her ankles and Archie won't stop trying to feed her things, and Mama's convinced the turkey is going to be too small even though it's enormous, and… oh!" Sophie threw her arms around Sasha first, naturally, because Sasha was everyone's favorite. "Did you bring me cuttings? You promised cuttings."
"Hello to you too," Sasha laughed, hugging her back. "Yes, I brought cuttings. They're in the boot."
"Excellent. Come see Fromage, she's gotten huge. Well, not huge huge, but bigger. Much bigger."
Victoria cleared her throat. "Sophie. Breathing. Try it."
"Oh, right. Hi, Vic." Sophie gave her a perfunctory hug before immediately returning her attention to Sasha.
They made it approximately three steps into the entrance hall before the chaos truly began.
Lady Charlotte appeared from the direction of the kitchens, looking harried. "Sophie Elizabeth Sullivan, if I catch that calf in my kitchens one more time…"
"It wasn't my fault! Mrs. Henderson left the door open!"
"Mrs. Henderson left the door open because she was running away from your calf, who had somehow gotten into the larder and was eating the butter."
"She was hungry," Sophie said defensively.
"She's a menace." But Lady Charlotte was smiling when she turned to greet them properly, pulling both Victoria and Sasha into warm hugs. "Darlings, how wonderful. How was the drive?"
"Long," Victoria said. "Traffic was murder around Birmingham."
"Well, you're here now. Sasha, you look lovely. Victoria, you look tired. Are you sleeping enough?"
"Mama."
"I'm just asking. A mother worries." Lady Charlotte linked her arm through Sasha's, already steering her toward the sitting room. "Come, everyone's gathered. Well, except Ambrose and Lukas, they're still at the cottage, but they'll be here for dinner."
The sitting room was warm and comforting, but Victoria was brought up short by the sight of her sister-in-law sprawled across the sofa like a beached whale, which was uncharitable but accurate. She looked approximately forty months pregnant, though Victoria knew it had only been seven. Her feet were propped on an alarming number of cushions, and she was glaring at Archie with the kind of fury usually aimed at war criminals.
"I don't want tea," Cathy was saying. "I don't want biscuits. I don't want another bloody cushion. I want this baby out."
"Darling, you still have two months…"
"I'm aware, Archie. I'm painfully, agonizingly aware."
Sir Archibald looked up from his newspaper, his stern face softening slightly. "Victoria. Sasha. Good to see you both."
"Papa." Victoria bent to kiss his cheek, caught the faint scent of pipe smoke and old books that always clung to him.
