Lukas grinned at her. "Waiting for Valentine’s day," he said, tapping the side of his nose, then he went off toward an outhouse.
The French doors opened and Lady Alexandra emerged, Sasha beside her looking confused and absolutely beautiful in the evening light.
"I don't understand why we're having drinks outside," Sasha was saying. "It's freezing."
"Fresh air is good for digestion," Grandmother Alexandra said serenely. "And Victoria wanted to show you something."
Sasha's eyes found Victoria across the terrace, and her expression shifted from confusion to something softer. "Did you arrange all this?"
"Maybe." Victoria's voice came out steadier than she felt. "Can you come here for a moment?"
Sasha crossed the terrace, and Victoria took her arm, gently guiding her down the stairs into the gardens, into the warm light of the fire. She was suddenly aware of everyone watching, her entire family, holding their breath, waiting.
No pressure.
"So," Sasha said, stopping in front of her. "What's all this about?"
Victoria opened her mouth to begin her carefully prepared speech.
The bonfire chose that moment to surge, flames leaping dramatically higher as a log shifted. The resulting burst of light and heat was both impressive and vaguely threatening.
"Christ," Archie muttered from his position by the door. "Did Lukas use petrol?"
"It's atmospheric!" Cathy hissed back.
Sasha glanced at the bonfire, then back at Victoria. "That's quite a fire."
"It's fine. Everything's fine." Victoria took Sasha's hands, tried to focus. "I wanted to ask you something."
"I'm listening."
"We've been together for two years now. Well, two and a half if you count the summer when we were both pretending we weren't completely gone on each other—"
Sasha laughed. "I wasn't pretending anything."
"You…" Victoria stopped herself. "Not the point. The point is, you've made me happier than I ever thought possible. You'vemade our flat a home, you've made me laugh, you've made me realize that perfection isn't about having everything planned out, it's about—"
A violent sneeze interrupted her.
Then another.
Then what sounded like six more in rapid succession.
Victoria turned to see Cathy bent as double as her stomach would allow, sneezing with the kind of violence that suggested her body was trying to expel her internal organs. Archie was patting her back uselessly while she wheezed between fits.
"The roses!" Cathy managed between sneezes. "I'm—allergic—to Christmas roses!"
"Since when?" Archie demanded.
"Since—always! You never—pay attention!"
"I pay attention all the time!"
"Not— now!"
"Should we move the roses?" Archie asked, looking panicked.
"Don't move anything!" Victoria said desperately. "Cathy, can you just… go inside?"
