by Geneva Lee
“Miss Kincaid’s birthday,” she responded, narrowing her eyes like she didn’t have the time to explain this. “I better get back to the kitchen and check the oven.”
I puzzled over it the entire way up the stairs. I needed to find the others. When I met Georgia in the hall outside my study, I still hadn’t figured it out. “Why does Mrs. Winters think it’s your birthday?”
She rolled her eyes so far back in her head, they looked nearly white. “Because your lovely wife needed to distract her from going into Nora’s room, and that’s the genius lie that came to mind.”
“Oh, okay.” I didn’t see the harm in the lie, especially because Georgia’s reaction was the first funny thing I’d seen all day. I had to take levity where I could find it.
“I cleared out the room,” she told me as I went to the nursery. I stepped inside and looked around before she added, “They aren’t here. They went to the village.”
“You let them go to the village alone?” I exploded.
“Did you want me to babysit or clean up her mess, Price?” Georgia crossed her slender arms over her stomach and glared at me.
Normally, I’d know better than to pick a fight, but today I was on edge. “Don’t you work for the royal family? How is it okay to let a prince walk around with no protection?”
“That’s not what this is about.” She strode out of the room, leaving me to follow her. Unexpectedly, she went toward my study. As soon as we were inside, she closed the door.
“What’s it about then?” I asked.
“Her. You want to believe she’s okay—that she didn’t do it.” Georgia paused and took a steadying breath. “We can cover this up—whatever this is—and you know that. It’s not the first time we’ve had to deal with something like this. But you need to accept that your wife might have killed that woman.”
“Belle wouldn’t…“ I trailed away, emotion choking my words.
“It doesn’t change who she is,” Georgia said softly.
I lifted my eyes to hers and admitted the last thing I wanted. “Doesn’t it?”
I’d turned it over and over in my head on the way back from Brighton. I couldn’t get Miranda Thorne’s hollow eyes out of my head, or her grim warnings. She was batshit mental. That was clear. But it wasn’t so much what she said but how she looked. Belle had worn the same vacant expression that day on the pond. I didn’t believe in ghosts, but I couldn’t look at this as coincidence. The last mother to live on this property had gone mad. She’d likely killed her family and buried them in the cellar. Was that what was happening to Belle now?
She felt like water slipping through my fingers. I kept trying to collect her, but I was beginning to see that was impossible. Was she doomed to share the same fate as Mrs. Thorne?
“We need to find the missing Thorne baby,” I said, determined to refocus my energy on something I could actually control. “There has to be some sort of record. The baby was born in an asylum, for fuck’s sake. What if she found out she was a Thorne and was upset that we bought her family home?”
Georgia stood across the desk, her eyes filling with pity. “Smith—”
“Please,” I stopped her before she could tell me it was another dead end. I knew I was grasping at straws. “What choice do I have? I can’t give up on her. I promised her forever.”
“I’ll help you find her,” Georgia said. She squared her shoulders and I braced myself for what blow she was preparing to deliver. “There’s something you should see.”
She leaned over and pressed a few keys on my keyboard. My computer screen flickered on and began playing a video. It took me a moment to realize I was looking at the footage from the nursery.
“This was last night,” she told me in a quiet voice.
I watched as Belle walked into the nursery and loomed over Penny’s crib. My hands tightened on the arms of my chair, digging into its leather when Nora walked onto screen.
“No,” I said under my breath. I forced myself to watch as Nora spoke to Belle and then pulled her gently away. “No.” I turned desperate eyes to Georgia. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”
“We’ll start with finding the Thorne baby,” she decided for me, her voice coated with an uncharacteristic sympathy. “Then, we’ll figure out the rest.”
“That could take time.” I slumped into my seat, realizing that I’d placed all my hopes in a fantasy. The longer I ignored what happened, the more danger we were in. People would notice that Nora was gone. They would ask questions. Mrs. Winters had seen Belle fight with the nanny and then there was the email Nora had sent to the agency. When the questions started, we would be the ones they came to for answers. “We can’t waste time on a wild goose chase. It could take us months to find out what happened. We need to focus on finding Nora—” I stopped short of saying body.
“It won’t take months,” Georgia said, scrunching her face. “I doubt it will take hours.”
My eyes narrowed. “What did you do?”
“We have powerful friends,” she reminded me. “I made a call.”
I rose to my feet, blood pumping to my heart so violently I thought my chest might explode. “You called him!”
“He owes you, and if any one has the resources to track down what happened to some wayside waif, it’s the King of England.”
But I was only half-listening to her. “Call him back. Tell him it was a misunderstanding.”
How could I cover this up once he was involved? The more people that knew what Belle had done, the harder that would be.
Georgia checked her watch. “Bit too late for that.”
“What does that mean?” I asked, but she didn’t need to answer. The windows of the old estate answered, rattling with the sound of an approaching helicopter.
As luck would have it—because she’s a bitch as often as she’s a lady—the helicopter landed on the front lawn just as Georgia’s Porsche turned onto the drive. At least if she wasn’t going to accompany my wife and her royal friend into the village, she’d sent them in an armored vehicle. The car slowed its approach, no doubt owing to the spectacle unfolding on the grass. Then it shot forward as though the driver was determined to beat the pilot of the renegade chopper to Thornham.
It was a moot point, because as the engines shut off and the blades slowed, Alexander and Brexton Miles each got out, tossing helmets on the seat, and started casually toward the house. I couldn’t help wondering how much Georgia had told them about what was going on, judging from their leisurely pace. I’d watched Alexander run towards domestic terrorists with more interest. They clearly weren’t overly concerned that my wife might have murdered someone.
The Porsche door flew open and Belle got out, staring at our approaching guests before turning reproachful eyes on me.
I held my hands up to let her know that I’d had nothing to do with it. Edward got out of the passenger seat more slowly. Belle’s gaze had been accusatory, his was murderous. I groaned as I realized that Edward hadn’t spoken to his brother since this summer when Alexander had admitted to killing David. What was Georgia thinking when she called him? We were completely stocked up on drama without adding more to the situation.
“I come with a present,” Alexander announced, waving a thumb drive.
Behind us, Mrs. Winters loudly cleared her throat. I turned to find her looking scandalized at the front door. Of course, she had heard a helicopter arriving. “I suppose they’re here for the party? You might have told me.”
She continued to grumble as she turned to head back to the kitchen. Alexander reached me, wearing a bemused smile. “Party? You shouldn’t have.”
“I didn’t,” I reassured him, reaching for the drive.
He released it. “Care to fill me in on why I was summoned to deliver information on some backdoor adoption fifty years ago?”
“That’s a long story,” I began, but before I could get far, Alexander’s eyes fell on Belle. Or rather, her companion.
The brothers stared a
t each other, neither speaking. Finally, Edward marched into the house carrying a parcel, without so much as a backward glance at us.
“Shit,” Alexander muttered.
“What did you expect?” I asked. “A parade?”
“I’ll settle for a Scotch,” he said in a strained voice, “and an explanation.”
I tossed a look at my wife, who was carrying Penny slowly toward the house. Georgia walked over to meet her, Brex following closely behind. She couldn’t be in safer hands. Belle shot me a small smile as if to give me permission to ask him inside.
“I can handle that.” I shrugged toward the house. “Follow me.”
22
Belle
I’d never expected the nursery to become a social gathering place, but an entourage followed me upstairs as soon as we were inside the house. Someone had lit a fire in the hearth, making it as good a place as any to linger. Of course, I might not have concerned myself so much with the design of the living room if I’d known we’d always be upstairs.
“Honestly, this is shaping up to be the worst birthday ever,” Georgia announced as I finished changing Penny’s dirty nappy. Brex was lingering in the corner of the room, averting his eyes. Edward was rocking furiously in the glider. I hadn’t quite decided if he was on the verge of losing it or already over it.
“It is not actually your birthday,” I reminded her with a hiss.
“Play along, Georgia,” she said, doing an impression of me. “Which is it? What girl would be happy about the King of England crashing her day and taking all the attention?”
“When is your birthday anyway?” Brex asked curiously. We both turned to stare at him. “Not the time. Sorry.”
“You called Alexander. He showed up. What did you hope would happen?” I said to Georgia. I’d been filled in on the barest details since our arrival back at Thornham. Smith had uncovered more about the Thornes, and Georgia had, in her ceaseless wisdom and incredible narcissism, actually called the King of England to do a quick research project. The fact that Alexander had dropped everything to do it was the real surprise. There was already enough drama today. Not only did Georgia ignore the increased risk bringing the King here might mean, the worst part was that she hadn’t stopped to consider Edward at all.
I glanced over at my best friend again. He was still rocking in the chair.
“They have to talk sooner or later,” she whispered.
“Is that what this is about?” First, she had forced him to confront Clara and now Alexander. “Are you going to dig up David’s body and make him talk to him, too?”
“Impossible.” Georgia shrugged. “We never found his body.”
I was pretty sure she could take me, or I might have tried to strangle her. What was another murder amongst friends?
I decided to switch tactics and turned my attention to Brex. “What did you find that was so important that Alexander had to come all the way here to bring it? Don’t you have email?”
His usually bright smile dimmed, and he tilted his head meaningfully at Edward. Out loud, he said, “No clue. Poor boy just told me he could use some fresh country air.”
“He was just in Scotland,” Georgia said flatly. “And I thought you were supposed to be in Silverstone.”
Brex had been assigned to deal with transitioning Anderson Stone, the late King Albert’s illegitimate son, to the public spotlight. Considering all the royal family had dealt with recently, I couldn’t blame Alexander for being concerned for his estranged brother’s safety. He’d taken a break from that new role to oversee my time in London before Penny’s birth, but, as far as I knew, he’d returned to Silverstone after Smith and I brought the baby home to Briarshead.
It seemed Georgia had thought so as well.
“I...wasn’t needed there,” he said hesitantly. “Anders needed a little privacy.”
“I’m glad I was informed,” Georgia bit out.
“You’ve had your hands full,” he replied.
I picked the baby up and backed up a step, wondering if I should leave them to whatever disagreement they were circling around. But before I could, something occurred to me. “Wait, but what about Lola? Did she leave Silverstone, too?”
My business partner had been enlisted to work on Anders’s image due to her genius at handling publicity issues. She’d been in Silverstone for weeks now.
Brex cleared his throat. “Well…“
“Oh.” I finally understood. “That will be complicated.”
“Nothing’s happened yet,” he said quickly. “I just felt like Lola could handle him on her own.”
Georgia’s shoulders shook with barely suppressed laughter. “Brexton Miles, are you playing matchmaker?”
“I’m just giving them a chance,” he said gruffly. His eyes raked over Georgia as he spoke.
This time I definitely wasn’t imagining it. I tiptoed away, giving them room to talk or fight or whatever it was they did, and took the seat next to Edward.
“I didn’t know he was coming,” I said to him in a quiet voice.
His gaze remained on the hearth, his brown eyes reflecting the flickering light from the fire. “I got that when you said ’Who the fuck is that?’ when you saw a helicopter on your front lawn,” he said absently. “He probably killed your grass. You’ll want Rowan to tend it when he leaves.”
“Sod the grass.” I understood focusing on strange, seemingly insignificant details rather than face huge, painful feelings. But Georgia was right. Edward couldn’t ignore what had happened forever. “How are you?”
“I was never going to avoid him forever. He wouldn’t allow it.” He looked at me, pressing his lips into a thin line as he raised his eyebrows. “And he gets his way.”
“I’ll make him leave,” I offered. “I don’t care who he is.”
One corner of his mouth lifted into a smile. “You need his help. Our family is good at getting to the bottom of things and…“
Covering things up. He didn’t say it, but I knew what he was thinking. If I had hurt Nora, my ties to the royal family could help me get away with it. I didn’t have the heart to tell Edward that if we found out I’d hurt her that I didn’t want to hide it.
“Pardon me, ma’am,” Mrs. Winters interrupted, and everyone turned to her, “but will you and your guests be wanting lunch?”
“I’ll check with Mr. Price,” I told her, doing my best to act like it was no big deal that several members of the monarchy and their bodyguards were in our house. Not that Mrs. Winters cared about the why so much as that she hadn’t been warned.
I got to my feet and Edward held out his arms for Penny.
“Can I hold her?” he asked.
I passed the baby to him with a smile. There was nothing quite as healing as holding her when she was in a good mood.
Mrs. Winters walked with me into the hall, and I realized she planned to stick around for an answer. I didn’t want her to overhear what Smith and Alexander might be discussing in the study. I waved her on. “I’ll come down and let you know.”
“Of course, ma’am.” Her lips pinched together, angry to be dismissed.
Honestly, when wasn’t she angry with me?
I waited until she’d reached the lift before quietly entering my husband’s study.
Alexander and Smith fell silent instantly—until they realized it was me.
“Beautiful,” Smith sent the word out like a request.
I crossed the room and dropped into his arms. “What did you find?”
“Alexander found some birth records. Miranda Thorne did have a little girl fifty years ago.”
“What happened to her?” I asked, glancing at Alexander for information.
The king lounged regally in the chair across the desk, his elbows rested on its arms and his hands steepled in thoughtful silence.
“Don’t know yet,” Smith said. “We are waiting on adoption records.”
“But you came all the way out here?” I directed the question to Alexander.
“He’s not ready to talk to you,” I said fiercely, my urge to protect Edward taking hold. Alexander did get what he wanted—too often, in my opinion.
“That’s not the only reason I’m here.” He directed the full force of his blue eyes on me. “I’m told you need my help, as well.”
“What?” I shot Smith a scathing look. How could he tell him that?
“Georgia called him,” Smith replied in explanation to me, “but I did confirm that we have a situation.”
I searched his face, looking for the reason he’d betrayed me by bringing in an outsider.
“I owe you both,” Alexander cut in. He swallowed, a flash of vulnerability marring his unyielding demeanor. “For how you helped Clara.”
“She’s my best friend,” I said. I hadn’t done anything out of consideration for him, but rather her.
“The fact remains,” he dismissed my reason. “And I believe Clara would say the same. She certainly agreed I should come when I told her I was needed.”
“Shouldn’t you be with her?” I asked hotly. They were both acting like I was in as much trouble as Clara had been when she’d been abducted. But Clara had been the victim then. Something I wasn’t.
“Norris is with her. She and the children are quite safe at Buckingham.”
I envied him his fortress. He had complete faith in the safety of the walls that surrounded him there. We didn’t have the same security at Thornham.
“Finding the Thorne baby is the answer,” Smith said, shifting the conversation back to our problems.
“Why do you believe that?” I demanded, getting to my feet. “What could that have to do with Nora?”
“I don’t yet,” Smith admitted. His shoulders went rigid, a mask slipping over his face. It had been a long time since I had seen him like this. He’d worn this demeanor often when we first met. Then, we’d been under threat from a common enemy. It had turned me on then to see how far he was willing to go in the face of danger. It had been exhilarating to watch how he controlled a situation.