by Geneva Lee
“Ready?” she called.
“And more than willing.”
“Open your eyes before you get any saucier.”
It took me a few seconds of looking about before I zeroed in on where she was standing. The whiteboard where she’d started to count new subscribers read 999. I didn’t even have time to start crying before she wiped off that number. Lola wrote 1000 with precise, teasing strokes, then stood back to admire her handiwork.
Within our second month of business, we’d already signed up a thousand clients. Things were moving more quickly than I ever could have imagined, and I knew I had Lola to thank.
“You did this.” My hand fluttered to my mouth as I stared in shock.
“We did this. I don’t know how many times I have to tell you,” she corrected me.
I studied my business partner. She was already dressed for this evening’s party in a stunning red gown with a crepe skirt that flowed to the ground. Its lacy top was nearly see-through, covering her breasts while revealing plenty of décolletage. Her dark hair was nearly black against the bright color and her creamy skin. “I take it you’re going this evening.”
“I am,” she said with a sigh. “I can’t wait to spend another holiday with all my coupled friends.”
I dropped an arm around her shoulder and hugged her to me. “There has to be a few single ones in the lot.”
“There are,” she confirmed, “and they’re wankers. I had to shag an unfortunate number of them to discover that.”
“Go to Paris,” I said suddenly.
“Right now?” she asked with a laugh.
“For the interview. Meet someone new. Have an affair.” I winked at her. I loved London, but I understood how trapped a girl could feel in this city.
“You’re the face of Bless, and we need you to start relationships with some of the major brands headquartered there.”
“I already told you that I want you to take that job on.” I hesitated for a moment before deciding to give her the real reason. “We do need to build relationships in Paris. I don’t see how we can be in the industry without having contacts there, but Smith and I are going to start a family.”
“Oh my God!” Lola’s eyes flashed to my stomach as she reached for it. “Are you…?”
“No.” I swallowed. Choose faith.
“You will be in no time. I swear Smith could knock a woman up just looking at her.” She threw her hands up in surrender. “No offense. I’m just looking.”
“None taken,” I said dryly. I was well aware of Smith’s effect on women. I’d fallen victim to it, after all. I could only hope she was right about the rest. “Anyway, since there’s a good chance that I’ll have cankles in a few months, I’m going to ask you to reconsider taking on Bless. Don’t make me beg.”
“You’ve talked me into it.”
We both dissolved into squeals and giggles. If this was what hope felt like, I could get used to it.
“Speaking of tonight’s party.” Lola’s mouth curved into a mischievous grin. “Jenny Packham sent you a Christmas present, and I bet you’ll look fabulous in it.”
“Couture Christmas presents? I should have started this business years ago.” I snatched the box out of her hands. “Maybe we should share.”
Lola turned around, her gown swishing elegantly as she spun. “I already got mine.”
If that was what she'd received, I couldn’t wait to open mine. I considered begging out of tonight’s affair. Part of me wanted to hide away at home with Smith and enjoy being able to relax for the first time in a long while. But a girl couldn’t resist a night out if there was a new dress involved. Removing the lid, I gasped as I caught sight of the silk charmeuse gown inside. As I carefully lifted, the fabric caught the light, revealing a subtle champagne sheen. Delicately hand-beaded crystals shimmered at the shoulders.
“Wow!” Lola was at my side, studying it instantly. “That’s gorgeous. A little bridal actually. Perfect for a newlywed.”
I held it up to me, admiring how the neckline dipped, meeting with the elegant twist at the waistline. This was the dress I should have worn for Smith on our wedding day. Tonight I would wear it to ring in the New Year at Clarence House as a symbol of starting over.
For once I had no problems with the security gate at Clarence House, but it was probably easier today given that the guard had a guest list. As I pulled into the private drive, I reconsidered. Guards milled along the perimeter of the house. Apparently Alexander didn’t trust the fence to keep unwelcome visitors out anymore. Given what he had been through, I couldn’t blame him. I could only hope that now that Hammond was gone, he’d be able to loosen up.
That was probably wishful thinking on my part. My best friend had married one of the most powerful men in the world, so things were never going to return to normal. There would always be security and gates. My own happily ever after hadn’t come at the cost of my personal freedom. But through everything that had happened since I met Smith, I’d been seriously neglecting Clara. Of course, having to pass a security check made it a lot more difficult to pop by for a glass of wine. That was just an excuse, though, and I knew it. I’d been so absorbed with Smith that I’d put her on the back burner. She’d done the same when she met Alexander, but I had been there on the day of her wedding. I’d held her hand during her first sonogram. I’d sat with her while Alexander buried his father.
Maybe it was the sheer amount of tragedy and pain she’d experienced in the last year that had made me hesitant to bring my own troubles to her doorstep. Yes, I had been trying to protect her, but I couldn’t deny that I’d also been avoiding her, especially since we’d returned from Stuart Hall.
I discovered Clara in her room. Her hair hung around her shoulders and she was rocking Elizabeth frantically. Judging by her tiny, mewling cries, Elizabeth was having none of it.
“I haven’t even had a shower yet.” She was on the verge of tears, and I leapt into action, gently taking Elizabeth from her arms.
I stood, rocking the baby, until she quieted again. It wasn’t much help, but it effectively warded off tears from both parties.
“You’re good with her,” she said softly.
I swallowed, searching for the strength I’d found this afternoon. How could I love a child this much and still hurt so badly?
“Not as good as you are,” I said after a few moments of silence.
Clara dismissed the compliment with a wave of her hand. “I’m her mother. That’s hardly magic.”
I bit down on my lip. It felt like magic—wondrous and just out of reach of reality.
“Alexander won’t budge on getting a nanny?” I needed to change the subject from motherhood. Unfortunately at the moment, the topic seemed to bleed into every possible new discussion we might start.
She shook her head. “Honestly, I’m not ready either. My mother has watched her for a while, but you know how giving Madeline is with her time.”
Madeline was light years ahead of my own mother, but she wasn’t exactly maternal either. It was something Clara and I had bonded over early on in our relationship.
“Lola’s been busy,” she said absentmindedly, “and of course, there’s Edward, but I think he’s in denial over David’s desire to have kids. The coronation is in a few weeks, and I think I’m going to be pushing a pram in the church.”
My eyes narrowed. I hadn’t been around to help. My absence had been the reason Lola wasn’t available, and there was no way I would have let Edward get away with running scared. “I’m sorry. It’s my fault you haven’t had more help.”
“How is it your fault?” Clara laughed at me.
“Your sister has been busy helping me, and I wasn’t around to kick Edward in the arse.” And I wasn’t here at all.
I should have been the one here with her. I always had been.
“You’ve had enough going on,” Clara said, but her eyes darted around me, avoiding mine.
“And?” I pressed. There was more. I couldn’t mend t
hings with her if I didn’t know badly I’d broken our relationship.
“You don’t seem very interested.”
I shrank back, freezing on the spot. Elizabeth released a shriek of protest that we’d stopped moving, but I could only shake my head.
“I love her,” I whispered.
“I see it in your face when you hold her.” Clara sighed. I understood her hesitation. Considering how rocky our last few encounters had been, was she really going to risk making things worse?
“It’s not that.”
I’d found the courage to tell Lola that I wanted to have a baby earlier. It had been the first time I’d admitted it to myself, but I wasn’t certain I had the strength to talk about the miscarriage. It was still so raw that I was scared I’d reopen the wound by even thinking about it. I’d been surviving it by ignoring it.
“Whatever it is,” Clara said, “I’m here for you.”
The implication was clear. I’d stood by her through the volatile changes in her life. Why wouldn’t I assume she would be there too?
But it wasn’t that simple. It wasn’t that I wanted to keep it from her. I simply didn’t want to relive it.
I forced a smile. “Everything’s fine.”
“Bollocks,” she accused.
I raised an eyebrow. “Someone’s ready to be queen.”
“Don’t start,” she warned me, leaving little doubt in my mind that I was right. “Something’s up. I know you, Belle Stuart. I mean, Belle Price. Gah, I can’t get used to that.”
“You really want to know?” I walked to the bed and sat down on the edge next to her, still cradling Elizabeth in my arms.
“I really do. I know some of what happened to you, and I hate that I couldn’t be there for you,” she said apologetically. “But I know there’s more. Edward does, too, and we’re both too afraid to ask you.”
She didn’t seem to be having trouble now.
Clara moved closer to me, reaching to relieve me of the baby, but I turned away. If I was going to face this, I would face all of it.
“I had a miscarriage.” To my surprise, it hurt a little less to say it aloud this time. I’d expected pain, and it was there. But instead of the clawing, destructive pain I’d expected, this ache was duller.
She didn’t say anything. Instead she wrapped her arms around me silently. We sat that way for a long time. Elizabeth sleeping peacefully in my arms and her mother holding me. The circle of life—mother and daughter—had surrounded me, and after a few minutes the pain faded, as if the broken pieces of my heart had begun to fuse once more.
“I don’t know what to say,” she finally admitted.
“I think that’s okay.” My throat was raw but I refused to cry.
“It’s better than saying something terrible,” she pointed out.
Despite myself, I laughed. She joined me, but our amusement evaporated as swiftly as it had arrived.
“I want to ask you a million questions.”
I looked at her and nodded. “And I think I want to answer them.”
Clara’s hand dropped to mine and she squeezed it. “You don’t have to carry burdens alone.”
She was right. I didn’t. My grief had isolated me, and I’d chosen to believe that it was my responsibility to bear it. Telling Clara had lightened that weight. I didn’t have to face this alone. Just knowing that proved I was going to survive this.
“Were you trying?” she asked.
“I think Smith has super sperm,” I admitted. “That and I missed some pills what with the death threat and attempted murder.”
“That’s understandable.” She paused. “I wish you would have told me.”
“It’s just…you went through the same thing, but your story had a completely different ending,” I whispered.
“Your story isn’t over,” she reminded me.
And then it was all coming out. Every fear I’d had since I met Smith. All the ugliness and all the beauty. I recounted our impromptu wedding in detail, down to the fact that I’d been wearing my pajamas.
“I haven’t told anyone that.”
“It just shows how fashion forward you are,” she teased.
A rap at the door startled us from conversation. Alexander poked his head in, smiling widely when his blue eyes fell on his wife.
“You want me to take her so you can get showered?” he asked.
Clara opened her mouth, but I jumped in. “I got her. It looks like you could use one, too.”
“Thanks, Belle.”
“In fact, how about I come by a bit more often?” I suggested. “I need to spend more time with my goddaughter.”
Clara and Alexander glanced at each other.
“Yes,” Clara said, raising a hand in his direction. “If you have an objection, I don’t want to hear it.”
“No objection here,” he said in an amused voice. “Especially if it means I can take a shower with you.”
“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that,” I called.
But the two of them had already dashed off to the sanctuary of the loo. I looked down at Elizabeth. “I guess it’s you and me, kid.”
She smiled in her sleep, tugging at my heart. I’d come home, not only to Smith, but to everyone in my life and I was here to stay.
Chapter 28
When Alexander and Clara finally reappeared, I was dozing in a chair by their hearth with Elizabeth tucked snugly on my chest. I cracked open an eye as Alexander lifted her off me.
“Did you have fun? I was so bored I fell asleep.”
He grinned widely at me. “Thanks for that.”
Apparently I’d just volunteered myself to be the sexy times nanny. At least their walls were thick.
“I’m sorry that took so long,” Clara chirped as she bustled into the room. There was no mistaking the glow radiating from her cheeks.
“I feel like the fairy godmother of orgasms.” I stretched my arms as I stood to ease the stiffness lingering after holding the baby for so long.
“It’s all yours,” Clara said, tilting her head toward the loo. “Guests are going to be here in an hour so I’m going to be playing Russian Roulette with my closet.”
A quick check in the mirror revealed I only needed to touch up my make-up and lipstick. That left the question of my hair, but for now, I did know what I was going to wear. My stomach fluttered as I unzipped the garment bag I’d hung my gown in before I left Bless. I felt instantly glamorous as I stepped into it. I’d excused myself to the ensuite bath, so that Clara wouldn’t ask why I wasn’t wearing knickers. The body-skimming fabric of my dress wouldn’t have allowed for them, but that wasn’t the reason I’d left them in my garment bag. If I had my way, I’d be ringing in the New Year with more than a kiss.
When I exited the loo, Clara popped her head out of her closet, poised to ask a question. Instead she stared at me.
I ran my palms down the silky fabric anxiously. “Too much?”
“Not remotely,” she said, shaking her head. “You look incredible. Smith isn’t going to be able to keep his hands off of you.”
“That’s the idea.” I winked at her.
“You are giving me serious doubts about my postpartum body,” she admitted.
I followed her into the closet as she began holding up dresses. The good news was that she had dozens to choose from, but that wouldn’t soothe her fears about how she looked.
“Has Alexander stopped shagging you?” I asked.
She snorted as she pulled a velvety black dress off the hanger. “I thought he was going to die after Elizabeth was born and he had to wait six weeks for sex.”
“So one of the sexiest men alive, and I’m quoting multiple magazines on that, is obsessed with you.” I stared pointedly at her, waiting for my words to sink in before I continued, “Wear sweatpants if you want, you’re already winning.”
She pressed the velvet gown to her bust, sticking her tongue out at me.
“Very mature,” I teased her. I hadn’t realized until
this moment how much I’d missed just hanging out with Clara. At university, this had been the norm. Now our lives made it difficult to find the time. My list of resolutions for the upcoming year had just gotten a little longer.
“This one?” she asked. “Or do I look like I’m going to a funeral?”
“It’s a black tie event, it’s perfect. Do you think I should I wear my hair up or down?” I asked Clara as she began to dress.
“What does Smith prefer?”
“It’s never come up,” I admitted. On one hand, my husband liked to kiss my neck. On the other hand, he liked to pull my hair. Either way I was coming out a winner on this one.
“Well, based on the advice you just gave me, you could probably wear a ponytail. That man is head over heels for you.”
It was a condition I shared with him. “It’s that obvious, huh?”
“In other news, the sky is blue,” she said in a flat voice. “Help me zip this up.”
Half an hour later, we stood in front of the mirror appraising our reflections. Clara’s chestnut locks were pinned up in an elegant twist, revealing the elegant slope of her pale neck. Her raven gown dipped in the front, displaying another sliver of creamy skin.
I’d kept my hair down, allowing it to spill down the back of my silk dress. The fabric skimmed my breasts, and through some peculiar alchemy, I felt sexy and timeless at the same time.
“We are so very doable,” I announced.
“Doability? Is that a unit of measurement?” Edward’s jovial voice called from the doorway.
I tossed a towel at him, but he ducked. “A gentlemen should knock. What if we were naked?”
“Sorry, ladies, despite your doability, I’m still not interested.”
Clara glared at him in the mirror. “David will be thrilled to hear that.”
He crossed his arms, one eyebrow cocked inquisitively. In his tuxedo, he looked the part of the powerful man. He’d smoothed his usually wild hair and left his glasses at home. The absence of his two signature looks transformed him, showcasing his strong jawline and straight nose.