Back on Blossom Street (Blossom Street #4)(49)

“You’re Elizabeth Sasser?” Colette blurted out.

The older woman’s eyes narrowed as she studied Colette. “Doris, invite the young woman in for tea.”

“Yes, Miss Elizabeth.”

“We’ll take our tea in the library,” she said, before turning away from the door and disappearing.

The other woman nodded. She set the copper tub of roses on a round marble-topped table that stood in the entryway.

Colette stepped inside the house and immediately noticed the scents of lemon and polished wood—and roses. The floors gleamed and a wide, sweeping stairway curved toward the second floor. There were two doors off the entry, one to the left and the other to the right. She could see that the one on the right led to a formal dining room with tables and chairs and a huge sideboard.

The door on the left apparently led to the library. Built-in mahogany bookcases stretched from floor to ceiling on three sides. A marble fireplace dominated the fourth wall. Two leather chairs, creased with age, sat facing the fireplace. The room enchanted Colette, who suppressed the urge to run over and examine the leather-bound volumes that filled the bookcases.

“You may have a seat.” Elizabeth Sasser gestured toward the leather chair next to her own.

“Thank you.” Colette self-consciously sat and placed her hands in her lap. She had no idea what to say. But since Ms. Sasser had invited her, Colette decided to let the older woman ask the questions.

“We’ll have tea presently.”

“That sounds very nice.” Colette glanced down at her hands, which were clenched in her lap like those of a schoolgirl called to task. With a determined effort she forced herself to relax.

“Christian sent you?” the woman asked.

“No…I mean, yes, in a manner of speaking. He ordered the flowers and I delivered them.”

“I see.”

They were briefly interrupted by Doris, who carried in a tray with a china teapot, creamer and sugar, two ornate teacups with saucers and a plate of delicate French cookies. “Madelines,” Elizabeth pointed out when Doris had left. “I’m sure you recall your Proust.”

“Remembrance of Things Past,” Colette said dutifully. She didn’t add that she’d always meant to read the books.

Elizabeth smiled faintly. “I’ll ask you to pour. My hands aren’t as steady as they once were.”

“I’d be happy to,” Colette said. She went over to the library table and carefully followed the other woman’s instructions about sugar and lemon. After both cups were ready, she set a cookie on each saucer and brought the first to Elizabeth. She took the second for herself and reclaimed her seat.

“You know my great-nephew?” Elizabeth quickly returned to her questions.

“Yes.” Colette didn’t elaborate, but she was pleased that the mystery of the older woman’s relationship to Christian had been revealed.

Elizabeth raised the cup to her lips and sipped her tea. “It’s my understanding that in previous weeks the flowers have been brought to the house by a delivery service.”

“That’s correct.”

“Was the service unable to make the delivery this week?”

The moment of truth had arrived. Colette could easily lie and save face. Admitting that she’d been curious about the woman in Christian’s life would tell Elizabeth more than Colette was comfortable sharing. If she lied, she’d be on her way in a matter of minutes and out of this embarrassing situation.

“Actually I asked to deliver the flowers,” Colette murmured, deciding on the truth. “I work for Susannah’s Garden, the flower shop on Blossom Street.”

“Was there any particular reason you felt it necessary to bring them yourself?”

“I…I wanted to meet the woman Christian loved.”

A smile spread across the older woman’s face. “How clever of you. Now that you recognize it’s an old woman, you must be amused—or disappointed? I’m his great-aunt and one of his only surviving relatives.”

Colette wasn’t disappointed at all. If anything she was baffled. As Christian’s former assistant, she was shocked to discover he had family she knew nothing about. “He’s never mentioned you.”

“That doesn’t surprise me,” Elizabeth commented drily. “I’m afraid he prefers to forget he has family.”

Colette frowned.

With a dismissive wave of her hand, the older woman said, “It’s a long story and one better saved for another day.”

“I worked with Christian for five years. I never knew he had family.”

“Five years?” Elizabeth repeated. “And in all that time he never mentioned me. I find that insulting.” She made a soft huffing sound. “There are times I’d like to box that young man’s ears.” She muttered something under her breath Colette couldn’t hear.

“What about his mother?” Colette asked. She didn’t want to appear inquisitive or nosy, but she hungered for information. For the sake of her child it might prove important, even necessary. She’d assumed his mother was dead but now she no longer knew.

“The dear girl died in childbirth when Christian was eight. A terrible loss. One doesn’t hear of that often these days. Still, it happens. Elliott lost both his wife and his infant daughter. And Christian lost more than his mother, I’m afraid. He lost his security.”