Chapter 7
The package sitting on my desk had international postage on it. It was addressed to Portia Sebring. Carefully cushioned inside was a ceramic arrangement of violets. They appeared so genuine I could almost smell them.
There was a pale lavender envelope in the center, and when I picked it up, I realized that was where the scent was coming from. I slid a thumbnail under the flap and withdrew a sheet of paper the same color as the envelope. The ink was a deeper purple, and the message was written in a meticulous, schoolgirl’s hand.
My dear Portia,
Please accept the enclosed as a token of my best wishes on your upcoming marriage. I hope you find great happiness with Nigel Mann.
Due to certain commitments, I regret I cannot attend your wedding.
Be happy, dear Portia, and remember
