Page 87 of Weeping Roses
Polly directs a sharp look my way and says gently, “It was an accident. An explosion in her Devon home. She wouldn’t have known it happened.”
“I’m so sorry, Polly.”
Mama pulls her in for a hug and Polly whispers, “I never knew her.”
Mama steps back and appears confused about that.
“Why not?”
Ana interrupts and says firmly, “Give Polly a chance to settle in before one hundred questions, Mama. Come, there is refreshment waiting in the reception room. We can talk there.”
As I reach for Polly’s hand, Ana says sharply, “Not you, Valentin. Titus is waiting to speak with you in his den.”
I note the stricken expression on Polly’s face as mama takes her arm and as they head off, I am frustrated because that is a conversation I definitely wanted to hear.
CHAPTER 46
POLLY
It seems wrong leaving Valentin behind, especially now. I realize the importance of the conversation we’re about to have and I must make certain to ask the questions he would have and it’s awkward as fuck as I follow them into a magnificent reception room.
It’s as if I have wandered into a Russian palace. It’s certainly grand enough. The elegant furniture is covered in blue and ivory silk, the curtains at the window heavy and trailing withblue and ivory flowers. The polished antique furniture is home to several silver frames and the amazing floral arrangements set in urns around the room fill the air with a heady floral scent.
Unlike my aunt’s homes, nothing is worn, used, or past its best. I doubt there’s any dirt because it would take a microscope to find any.
Now I understand the reason behind Valentin’s desperation to return to his well-organized life, because my aunt’s properties held no comparison to this.
I sit beside Ana on the blue silk couch and her mother takes a Queen Anne chair opposite.
A maid serves us tea in bone china cups with saucers and there is an array of finger food on a silver tray.
I spread the starched white serviette on my lap and my hands shake as I accept the cup of tea and only when the maid has left does Grace say with a trace of sympathy, “I’m sorry for your loss, Polly. That was a truly terrible ending for my dear friend.”
“Did you know her well?” Ana says with interest, and Grace nods.
“It was years ago. We were young back then and the four women in this photograph met by chance at a finishing school in Switzerland.”
I listen with interest as Ana delves further. “Who are the other ones?”
“Well, that’s Marsha.” Grace points to her and rolls her eyes. “She was a formidable force to be reckoned with, and if I’m honest, she terrified me.”
Ana laughs out loud. “I don’t believe you.”
Grace smiles. “It’s true. She had opinions on everything. I’m not sure what happened to her, though. The last I heard, she was involved with a man who lived in Chicago.”
I say nothing as Ana points to the fourth woman. “Who is that?”
“Adele Heatherington. We were good friends once. I understand she married a senator, Charles Kenricky, and is involved in charity work now.”
Ana turns to me and smiles sympathetically. “Tell me about your aunt, Polly.”
I sense Grace studying me with interest and I cough slightly, setting the cup down on the small table by my side.
“I’m sorry, I can’t.” I shrug. “I heard of her. I just never met her. When she died, she left everything to me as her last remaining relative. It’s all been a lot to take in and I’m grateful for any memory you may have of her to fill in the gaps.”
I turn to Grace as I speak and if I’m not mistaken, there’s a hint of relief in her eyes and she nods a little too vigorously.
“Of course. My memory isn’t what it used to be, but Veronica was a lovely friend to have at Two Points.”