Blossom in Winter (Blossom in Winter #1)(106)

“Don’t worry, we manage.”

A housemaid enters, setting a silver tray down on the low glass table and removing the tea set of Chinese porcelain with a hand-painted motif. I notice that there’s only one teacup. “Do you want sugar or milk in your tea, Ms. Van Gatt?” she asks.

“Just tea is fine.”

She pours the tea into my cup and hands it to me.

“Thank you.” I take a first sip and smile—jasmine tea.

She nods and leaves, closing the door behind her.

“Can I tell you something?” asks Margaret as she sits on one of the sofas facing the low table.

I stop looking around and sit down in front of her.

“Sure.”

A whiskey in hand, she takes a sip with a pensive look on her face that transforms into a sly smile. “My son doesn’t like what he can fully tame,” Margaret declares confidently. I, still in shock, wonder if it’s a hint. “All the women in his past were determined to please him, no matter how old, how rich, how beautiful they were. After being with him for a while, they’d just do whatever he asked them to do and be whatever he wanted them to be. He has never truly respected one enough to settle down with.”

“I know,” I admit. “He’s a heartbreaker…”

“Indeed, and a master at it. But with you…” She pauses. “I have never seen him so vulnerable, so soft, so tender…” I blush and lower my gaze. “It looks like you have been taming him as well. I hope you’ll never change.”

I instantly gasp at her words. Why would I tame anyone? I don’t understand what she means. “I don’t tame anyone, Mrs. Van Dieren. I think Alexander just likes the way I am.”

“You may call me Margaret, Petra,” she corrects me again. “And you will soon enough, believe me.” She takes a deep breath in then exhales slowly. “Do you really want to marry him?”

My heart starts racing nervously. I’m still not used to such directness. “I do.”

“You know… Alexander is not a simple man, Petra,” she warns. “He’s been raised with centuries-old traditions, customs, rules, values, and principles that we observe and follow strictly.”

“Like the table thing?” Margaret raises an eyebrow. “I mean, that I have to ask permission to leave the table, unless he stands up first?”

“Yes, that is one of them. If you become his wife, you become part of this family, and therefore you’ll also have to observe and follow these customs.”

Fuck! My heartbeat is pounding faster and louder with every word out of her mouth. Suddenly, I recall the argument with Mom just yesterday, and her harsh criticism about his family. Well, it doesn’t seem as harsh now. “Like, which ones?” I ask, my tone dangerous.

“Will you give him offspring?”

I almost choke on my tea. “I beg your pardon?”

“Don’t be surprised. I know many women that don’t have kids, not because they can’t but because they simply choose not to. I respect that, but not for my son. I want Alexander to have a Catholic wedding and heirs before I die.”

Damn, she’s so blunt! I take a deep breath, but my jaw has already dropped. Cool down, Petra, you got this. After all, I also have an authoritative mother just like her. I think for a second how Dad seems to be the coolest and nicest parent ever, compared to them. Being raised by him doesn’t seem as terrifying either. “If this reassures you, Margaret, I intend to have children, yes.”

“Do you smoke?”

Looks like the inquisition has started…

“No.”

“Do you drink alcohol?”

“Sometimes.”

“How often?”

“Not much, just when there is a celebration.”

“Do you take drugs?”

“No. Never have and never will.”

“Coffee?”

“I’m a tea person.”

“How many languages do you speak?”

“Three fluently.”

“What are the Van Gatts’ views on politics?”

“We don’t do politics. We finance them.”

Margaret nods with a thoughtful air. “Looks like Roy did a good job.”

“Do you have any other questions, Margaret?” I ask, my tone assertive and confident.

“Just one, but I will ask later. I don’t want to scare you…”

“Please, go ahead. I have nothing to hide. I’m fully aware that Alexander is your only son and the only one who never settled down.” I smile at her astonishment. “I also understand you want to know who I am.”

Margaret raises both eyebrows. “Wow. Your maturity impresses me. Very well…” She looks straight into my eyes, her stare defiant. “Have you had other lovers before him?”

“I was a virgin until him.” This time I neither blush, nor look away.

“That’s all I wanted to know, Petra. Thank you. Now, let’s take a tour around the artwork. I’m sure you want to see them all.” And just like a kid, I stand up, tension vanishing, ready to enjoy my reward.





I leave the Picasso room alone, as Margaret had to discuss some urgent matters with her butler. I try to find my way back, following the laughter coming from somewhere. One of the corridors is particularly dark, but I can’t find how to turn the lights on, and unlike at home, they don’t seem to be automatic.