"Because I'm interested in meteorological patterns?"
Sasha propped herself up on one elbow, hair gorgeously mussed, looking far too alert for someone who'd been asleep thirty seconds ago. "You're being weird."
"I'm always weird."
"Weirder than usual." But Sasha was smiling, leaning in to kiss her. "Come back to bed. It's freezing and you're hogging all the warmth."
Victoria let herself be pulled back down, wrapped herself around Sasha's sleep-warm body, and tried very hard not to think about how her perfect snow-dusted proposal was currently being drowned in a monsoon.
She could adapt. She was good at adapting.
By nine a.m., Victoria had consumed three cups of coffee and was standing on the terrace under an umbrella, surveying the wreckage of the flower planters.
The rain had not let up. If anything, it had gotten worse, coming down in sheets that turned the garden into something resembling a lake.
"This could work," Victoria muttered to herself.
It could not work.
"Victoria? Darling, what on earth are you doing?"
She turned to find her mother standing in the French doors, wrapped in a dressing gown and looking utterly baffled.
"Nothing. Just… enjoying the garden."
"In a thunderstorm."
"It's not a thunderstorm. It's just rain."
Lady Charlotte stepped onto the terrace, pulling her dressing gown tighter. "You're going to catch your death. Come inside."
"I'm fine, Mama. Really."
"You're standing in the rain staring at dead flowers. That's not fine, it’s… concerning." Her mother moved closer, lowering her voice. "Is everything alright? With you and Sasha?"
"What? Yes. Of course. Everything's perfect."
"Because if you're having doubts, or if there's something you need to talk about…"
"There are no doubts." Victoria said it perhaps too forcefully, because her mother's expression shifted into something knowing and dangerous.
"Then when are you going to make an honest woman of her?"
Victoria felt heat flood her face despite the cold rain. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Darling. You've been living together for months. You're clearly mad about each other. Your father and I have already started discussing whether to have the wedding here or in Manchester, though obviously here is better, we have the space."
"Mama."
"I'm just saying, she's not going to wait forever. Lovely girl like that, she could have anyone."
"I'm aware."
"So what are you waiting for?"
For snow, Victoria wanted to say. For perfect weather and perfect timing and a perfect moment that didn't involve her entire family eavesdropping from approximately six feet away.
"I'm not waiting for anything," she said instead. "I'm just... taking my time."
