Breathe Me: Smith and Belle (Royals Saga Book 11)

by Geneva Lee

  “I’m sorry to scare you,” I said. I looked over her shoulder at the bedroom door she’d closed behind her. “I thought I heard someone come in.”

  “Lunch ended a little more quickly than expected,” Nora said, choosing her words carefully. I recognized a lawyer’s trick when I heard one. She was telling the truth but leaving out the important bits. Her eyes skirted aways from me as she spoke, and I wondered what had made her so nervous. Before I could ask her, the bedroom door opened again, revealing a harassed-looking Belle, bouncing the baby wearily. When she saw me, she sighed.

  That was new. I told myself it meant nothing, but even something as simple as finding me at our bedroom door seemed to annoy her.

  “Can one of you take her? I need to lie down.”

  I stepped forward, arms open and accepted Penny. “Are you feeling alright?”

  My question was cut off by the bedroom door closing. I turned to Nora, hoping for answers, but she only smiled. “I can take her to the nursery if you like. I still have a few more hours scheduled here.”

  “Why don’t you check in with Mrs. Winters?” I suggested. “She usually does Penny’s laundry in the morning. It might be nice if Belle woke up to everything done.”

  “I can do that.” She nodded enthusiastically, and I thought I caught a bit of relief on her face as she headed toward the spiral staircase that led to the lower levels.

  What was that about? Had the baby been more than a handful? Something brought them home early. Now Belle was locked in our bedroom and the new nanny was avoiding eye contact. I hoped I was simply reading into things. I carried Penny back to my study. Whatever had been wrong earlier during their trip, she seemed content to sleep in my arms now. I half heartedly organized the papers on my desk with one free hand, mostly focused on enjoying the feeling of my daughter nuzzled against my chest. I sorted a stack to file and reached to open a desk drawer. I kept my father’s gun in the top drawer, so I opted for the lower one. When I opened it, I froze, spying the edge of a familiar picture frame.

  When I decided to close my London office, I placed most of its furnishings and files into storage. There’d been no where to put them in our Holland Park home, so this was the first time in nearly six months that I’d sat at this desk. But even six months ago, the framed photograph of my late wife had been packed away in some dusty corner box in my office. I hadn’t looked at a picture of Margot since the moment I realized I was in love with Belle. I’d let Margot go then, consigning her to memories I rarely called to mind. Still, she was there in the back of my mind, intruding on my thoughts at the worst times. I’d failed her. Or she had failed me. The only thing I was certain enough about was that our marriage had been a disaster. More than that, it had been another of Hammond’s devious attempts to control me. He’d alluded to being behind the car accident that took her life, although he never had a chance to tell me why. Someone had murdered him before he came clean. I could have asked the last time I saw him alive—the time at which he admitted manipulating me into marrying her. I’d been too furious at that revelation to seek answers. Not because I hadn’t suspected it to be the truth, but because, despite everything, it had shown me how foolish I had been.

  Belle had been another of his manipulations, but that had backfired. She had shown me what love truly was and made me willing to fight for ours.

  And, it seemed, while she had been unpacking my things, she’d come across this photograph of Margot and placed it here. I couldn’t guess why. Maybe that was a passive way to confront me about finding it amongst my possessions. But I’d rather she had yelled at me, so I could apologize and throw the thing rather than find it shoved in a drawer. Or maybe, and somehow this was worse, she thought I wanted it here and had quietly seen to my wishes. If she’d been truly angry, she would have taken the gun she must have found when she was sorting through my things and hunted me down.

  I leaned down, cradling Penny against me carefully so that I wouldn’t wake her as I took the frame up out of the drawer. Laying it on the desk, I looked around and realized there was no rubbish bin for me to toss it in.

  There was a light knock on the door and I called out, “Come in.”

  “I’m sorry to disturb you.” Nora shuffled into the room, her arms empty. Mrs. Winters must not have done the washing yet. “I’d like to talk to you about something.”

  I stood and circled around my desk. “Take her, so we can find somewhere to sit.”

  Nora accepted Penny with ease. She looked like a natural holding the baby. Belle had chosen correctly, despite her concerns about Nora’s age.

  I dug out a chair from under a few boxes of books and moved it across from my desk. “Have a seat.”

  I hesitated, wondering if I should take the baby back, but Nora continued to hold her, sinking in the chair, her teeth chewing on her lower lip. I returned to my chair, a pit opening in my stomach. What could have made her nervous this early into her position with us.

  Nora’s eyes were on my desk, and too late, I realized she was staring at the photograph of Margot.

  “She’s pretty,” Nora said conversationally. “You sister?”

  Margot had been beautiful. Hammond always made sure the women he dangled over my cage were tempting enough to distract me. But everything about Margot had been false. Beneath her beauty, there had been a void. She’d filled it with champagne and drugs and whatever man caught her eye. I’d done the same. We’d lived that life together, and I told myself that was what love was. I was young and stupid enough to believe it. She was beautiful and wild and everything a stupid, reckless boy could want.

  "Not exactly,” I said, leaving it at that. I was having a hard enough time explaining to myself why there was a picture of my dead wife in my office. I didn’t really want to get into it with the nanny. “What do you need to talk to me about?”

  “I want to tell you that I’m enjoying Penny and being here,” she began. I recognized a preface when I heard one. I’d made enough arguments in front of the courts to know one when someone was about to deliver a carefully crafted speech. Whatever was weighing on Nora, she had some time to think about it. But she’d only been here a few days. What had she seen that I hadn’t? She took a deep breath, before continuing, “I’m concerned about your wife.”

  “Belle?” I said.

  “Unless you have another one,” she said with a nervous laugh.

  I wondered then if she guessed who the woman in the photo really was, and if so what she thought of me: a married man with a new baby looking at pictures of his dead wife. I was beginning to feel out of sorts.

  When I didn’t respond, she cleared her throat before pressing forward, “I’m sure you’ve noticed that Belle’s been sad lately.”

  She chose the word carefully. I knew by how much emphasis she placed on it.

  “The doctor said to expect this,” I told her, wanting to assuage her fears. “Hormonal shifts and whatnot.”

  “Yes, I’m sure it can be.” She looked at Penny, who was still sleeping in her arms. “But I’m not sure it’s that simple.”

  “Did something happen today?” I asked, thinking of how they came home early with Belle already needing a nap.

  “I don’t want to tell tales,” she said with hesitation. “It’s not really my place.”

  “My wife and I have no secrets. If she hasn’t told me what happened, it’s only because she’s resting. You should never be concerned to tell me anything, particularly if it involves our daughter. I want to be as involved as I can be.”

  “In that case,” she said slowly, “It was really silly. She forgot the nappies in the changing bag. I found a stack just now in the nursery. Not exactly a big deal.”

  “But it might be if you needed one,” I said, guessing where the story went.

  Nora nodded, shifting a little as Penny stirred. “Belle had every right to be frustrated, but…”

  “Did something else happen?” I asked, worry beginning to take hold.

  “She co
uldn’t stop crying. We got the nappies and she went to change her. She wouldn’t let me help. When she came back, she said we had to leave. She wouldn’t talk at all on the way home.”

  I sat silently for a moment, contemplating what she said. I wasn’t surprised to hear my wife had been crying. I’d witnessed plenty of that myself. “I’ll speak with her about it.

  “I don’t want her to be angry with me,” Nora said.

  “I won’t tell her you told me,” I said with a reassuring smile. “I’ll let her tell me herself.”

  “I just thought — it’s not really my place – but maybe she should speak to a doctor,” she said, adding quickly, “I’m sorry. That was too forward of me.”

  “You have my wife’s best interest at heart,” I said gruffly. “Your honesty is always welcome when it comes to keeping my family safe.”

  This seemed to appease her, and her rigid shoulders relaxed a little. I’d eased the burden she carried by adding it to my own shoulders— where it belonged.

  "I’m going to take this little one into the nursery,” Nora said, “and give you a little quiet time.”

  I didn’t miss the suggestion in her voice. I was being sent to check on Belle. I was grateful Nora was here so that I could have a moment alone with my wife. As much as we both loved Penny, we’d barely had a moment together since she’d been born. It was all the more reason to have Nora around. And I appreciated that she’d come to speak with me, even if it wasn’t news I wanted to hear.

  It was a wake-up call—a reminder that I was too close to the situation. I’d expected things to get better, without really knowing if they would. I stood, picking up Margot’s photograph and shoved it in an empty box by my desk. I would get rid of that later. Right now, I needed to check on my wife. I strode out of the office and down the hall to her bedroom. Cracking the door carefully, I peeked inside. The silk curtains we’d closed at night were drawn open, and afternoon light seeped through the window, haloing her body. I wandered over, worried I would disturb her. As much as I wanted a moment alone with her, she hadn’t been sleeping well. Maybe she really just needed a nap. I climbed quietly into bed behind her, doing my best not to rouse her and molded by body against hers. I breathed in the light orange blossom scent perfuming her neck. She’d once told me she slept better when I was near her. So, maybe we hadn’t had sex for a while, but holding her felt damn near as good.

  A soft tremble rose in her chest, and I stilled. It took a moment before I processed what I was hearing. I thought Belle’s breathing was soft snores, but, now that she was in my arms, I realized, with horror, that she was crying again.

  "Beautiful?” I said gently.

  A sob racked her. I nudged her carefully, urging her to roll over to face me. When she did, her eyes were rigged with the black remnants of her makeup. This had to end. I couldn’t allow her to suffer like this.

  “You’re going to the doctor,” I said, making the decision for her.

  “But— ”

  “It’s not an option, beautiful,” I cut her off, pulling her closer to me. She didn’t protest again. I had no idea if I was doing the right thing, but I would stay by her until she found her way out of the dark.

  19

  Belle

  The clinic in the village was a far cry from the office where I was seen during my pregnancy. I’d agreed to Smith’s request to see a doctor, but we both felt driving all the way to London meant either packing Penny up and hoping for the best, or making me more stressed out about leaving her behind for the better part of the day. I’d been the one to finally decide on the local doctor. I’d committed to moving to Briarshead. Did I really want to go to London every time I had a cold?

  Still, it felt odd being here now. The clinic was clean, sterilized to the point of something more like obsession than germ warfare. Nora followed behind me, Penny in her arms, as I stopped to wait for the only other patient here to move away from the check-in desk. It was an older woman, and I could tell by the laughter coming from the nurse that she likely wasn’t here for more than a social call. I tapped my foot, feeling impatient. This was the last place I wanted to be, and now I had to wait.

  I couldn’t argue with Smith’s concern. I sensed it myself. I simply found myself disinterested in doing anything about it. What could a doctor do? A doctor couldn’t fix my brain and make me a competent mother. A doctor couldn’t make certain I’d packed the nappies. I had Nora for that now.

  She was a bit like having a shadow, to be honest. She moved into Thornham almost immediately after we asked her, on the understanding that it would be a short-term situation. She still planned to attend school later in the spring. But I got the impression that she felt guilty after what I’d deemed the chocolate cake incident. I still hadn’t told Smith about what happened. I couldn’t imagine what he would think of me for breaking down and sobbing into a dessert in front of my business partner and a total stranger, especially over something as stupid as forgetting to put nappies in the changing bag. I’d managed to reason with myself since the disastrous luncheon, realizing that no harm had been done. There had been a shop. We had found nappies. Lola hadn’t quit Bless and, as far as I knew, Tomas would welcome me back in his restaurant any time. That meant, the only person I was being hard on was myself.

  I just had to be a better mother. End of story.

  “Excuse me,” I interrupted as another laugh rose between the two. “I have an appointment.”

  “Bless me, I’m sorry!” The stub of a woman in front of me waived an apology as she turned around. “I didn’t even hear you come in. I’ll catch up with you later, Marjorie.”

  “Name?” The woman behind the desk—Marjorie, it seemed—asked, looking less apologetic then her friend. I doubted there were a lot of appointments on the books today, but I answered her all the same.

  “Belle Stuart. I mean, Price,” I said quickly, feeling embarrassed to have given my family name instead of my married name.

  “I have you right here Mrs. Price,” she said, passing the clipboard. “I just need you to sign a few documents for the NHS.”

  “Ms. Price will do,” I told her, taking the clipboard and shuffling over to the seat next to Nora. Penny had stayed asleep for the entire ride into the village, already making this trip more successful than our last attempt at an outing. I suspected it had something to do with the presence of her nanny. Penny always seemed calm around Nora. I was grateful.

  I was also a little jealous.

  I signed the paperwork, wondering how Nora managed to make it all look so easy. Maybe the fact that she wasn’t responsible for the entire growth, safety, and development of her charge made it easier to just relax and take care of her. I wouldn’t know.

  Lately, I found myself checking Penny obsessively to make certain she was breathing when she was quiet. I supposed I’d grown so accustomed to her screaming that I didn’t know what to do with her when she wasn’t crying.

  I finished the forms and returned them to Marjorie. She peered at them with hawk-like eyes, sweeping across the lines until she reached the final page. “Seems to be in order. Will the doctor be seeing the baby as well?”

  “I don’t know,” I said, truthfully. “She’s six weeks old.”

  “And has she been seen for her six week check?”

  I shook my head, remembering only now that I’d meant to put one on the books.

  “I’m sure the doctor will want to see her then. She’s due for her checkup,” Marjorie said.

  Heat pricked my eyes, and I blinked stubbornly against the tears.“I forgot. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s a lot for a first-time mom,” Marjorie said, warming up as she looked me over. “She would’ve let you know if something was wrong, dear.”

  Not that I would have been able to decipher that, I thought glumly.

  “Why don’t you go back and talk with Dr. Stanton alone first?” Marjorie suggested. “The baby can join you after.”

  "Thank you,” I said, not trusting my
self to say anything more.

  Marjorie probably thought I was an idiot. I couldn’t blame her. I’d proven over and over again I was. I took a chair inside the small exam room and waited for the doctor. While I did, I read a poster, describing the important milestones I needed to be watching for where Penny’s growth was concerned. I hadn’t even been thinking about things like that. Tummy time? Was I supposed to be doing that? I’d seen Clara doing that with Elizabeth and Wills, but it never occurred to me that it was a mandatory activity. Apparently, there were a lot of things I didn’t know I should be doing. By the time the door to the exam room opened, I had dissolved into tears. I looked up, eyes brimming, and swallowed hard.

  Dr. Stanton blinked once, but that was the only sign of surprise he showed about finding me in this state. “Well, I see you just had a baby.” He said it in a conversational way as he read my chart, but I suspected the comment had more to do with finding me sobbing on his exam table. “And you have postpartum depression, it seems.”

  “I know it’s normal.” I swiped at my eyes, regurgitating all of the information my obstetrician in London told me following Penny’s birth. “It’s only been six weeks. I know things will adjust.”

  Dr. Stanton lowered my file and studied me for a moment, his brown eyes crinkling under bushy white eyebrows. “Sounds like you have it all figured out.”