Breathe Me: Smith and Belle (Royals Saga Book 11) Page 10

“You think he still wants me to have his baby?” I asked flatly.

  Clara grinned. “He looked like a ghost. He can’t stand being apart from you.”

  “Yeah?” Maybe it was the nitrous, but I was starting to feel not only calmer, but a lot more prepared.

  “Do you want me to get him?” she asked.

  I opened my mouth to respond and doubled over, grabbing the tight ball my belly had become. The contraction lasted forever despite Clara’s patient reminder that it would end eventually. When I finally caught my breath, she winked. “I think I better get him sooner rather than later.”

  I nodded. Maybe it would be minutes or hours or days still, but I knew one thing for sure. I wanted Smith by my side through all of it.

  13

  Smith

  I never thought I would look at anyone and find her as beautiful as Belle.

  And then I met my daughter.

  Her hair was so fine it looked like strands of silver that curled at her tiny ears. She was still pink from the vigorous rubdown the nurse had given her after birth. She hadn’t been too pleased by that and had quickly demonstrated that she had my lung capacity. But once she’d been handed to Belle, she’d quieted immediately, looking to her with wide, searching eyes.

  After Clara and Alexander had gone, I’d taken her so Belle could rest. I’d always known my wife was strong, but watching her bring life into the world proved even I’d underestimated the power inside her. I kept stealing glances at her while she slept, amazed that she’d chosen me to receive this gift.

  She needed the sleep, and I’d been more than pleased to have the quiet time to study each of my daughter’s tiny fingers. They wrapped around my index finger as she slept on my chest. How on earth could anything be so perfect? I felt like I’d known her my whole life, and like I couldn’t wait to see who she would become. I was head-over-heels in love.

  I’d been staring at her for an hour when Belle interrupted my reverie, “What do you think, Daddy?”

  I carried the pink bundle over to her, carefully passing her to her mother. She woke with a squawk and immediately nuzzled her face against Belle’s skin, searching for milk. Belle had never looked more perfect than when she had our daughter in her arms.

  “Have you decided?” I asked Belle softly, not wanting to startle her.

  Belle glanced up, confusion clouding her blue eyes before she smiled. “I guess I’m still tired. What am I deciding?”

  “On her name, beautiful.” I bit back a smile. I knew she was exhausted, and I couldn’t blame her after what she’d gone through. “We can wait a little longer. I know we hadn’t really narrowed them down.”

  There was no rush. Everything was perfect. We were exactly where we were meant to be, and for the first time, in as long as I could remember, I felt completely at peace. A week ago, we’d still been debating the question. Now it hardly seemed important. She was here with us.

  Belle studied her silently, no doubt running through all the contenders in her mind. “Looking at her makes me feel like everything’s going to be okay,” she confessed. “I feel like our stars have changed.”

  “She’s lucky, then.” I couldn’t help smiling. I had a feeling that we’d both landed on the same name. “Penny.”

  “Penny,” she agreed in a soft voice. “Well, Penelope. Sophia for the middle name. Penny might be lucky, but she should be wise, too.”

  “Penelope Sophia Price,” I repeated. The baby yawned as I said it, her mouth drooping into a sleepy smile. “I think she approves.”

  “Speaking of, I hope you like this.” I took a velvet box out of my pocket. I’d been carrying it for hours, waiting for the right moment to give it to her.

  Belle’s eyes narrowed on the satin bow tied around it. “What’s that, Price?”

  “I wanted to give you something special to remember the day our family became whole.” I looked to my feet, wondering if she’d caught the break in my voice as I spoke. I’d never imagined I would be here now with the love of my life and our child. A life like that hadn’t even been on my radar. Thank God, Belle had sauntered into my office. Thank God, I’d been unable to resist her smart mouth. That moment had led to this one.

  “My hands are full,” Belle whispered. “Could you?”

  I nodded, slipping the bow off and opening the box to reveal the necklace inside. I’d found it at Harrods earlier this week and had been hiding it ever since.

  “It’s beautiful,” she breathed. Belle turned teary eyes on me. “It’s an opal—her birthstone.”

  “I’m glad she decided to finally come. I was getting nervous that I was going to have to take it back,” I teased. I’m not certain I would have actually. The pendant’s opal center, surrounded by diamonds, sparkled with a delicate rainbow of shimmering colors that somehow reminded me of the stars I’d promised her and the beauty we’d finally found after all we’d lost. The diamonds surrounding it, twisted at the top around one single, small pearl.

  “The pearl…” I hesitated, suddenly unsure I should confess what the pearl had meant to me.

  “Is for the baby we lost,” Belle finished with a bittersweet smile. Of course she saw it, too. She hadn’t talked much about the miscarriage while she was carrying Penelope, but I knew she still thought of the baby as much as I did.

  “They’re both with you,” I said, my words thick on my tongue.

  Belle leaned forward, and I brushed a few stray locks that had escaped her hair tie away from her neck before clasping the necklace around her.

  “About the other decision,” Belle said, her eyes never leaving our daughter.

  “What other decision?” I wasn’t sure how she could be thinking of anything but this moment. “Whatever it is, it can wait.”

  “No, it can’t.” There was a fierce edge to her words that reminded me of the lioness she’d been during birth. “I’m ready. As soon as they give the okay, I want to go home.”

  “The food isn’t that bad.” Actually, the tea service they’d delivered reflected the price tag that accompanied the ten-thousand pound birthing suite.

  She finally looked up, her eyes locking with me. “I want to know she’s somewhere safe.”

  “The security here—” I began.

  “I’m not talking about here. Or London. When it’s time to go, I want to go to Thornham,” she said firmly. “I’m ready to go home.”

  14

  Smith

  The crying started when Penny was three weeks old. We’d been warned to expect it by our doctors and the books Belle had read before her arrival, but I hadn’t been prepared for what it would do to me. We’d returned to Thornham as soon as Belle was released from the hospital. I’d asked Georgia to pack up what remained of our things and send them to the estate. There had been tearful goodbyes with Clara and Aunt Jane. Edward hadn’t returned for Italy, a fact which left a sour taste in my mouth. Mostly, because I kept searching for a reason why Belle suddenly seemed so distant from me. Three more weeks had passed, and the crying hadn’t stopped.

  At first, it had been easy to write off her aloofness as exhaustion. Penny slept as she pleased, preferring to nap during the day in our arms. We’d given up the idea of the nursery entirely, moving the bassinet to Belle’s side of the bed within a few days of our return. That had worked for a while. I was more able to sleep through her newborn cries, so I took it upon myself to get up with her in the morning, so my wife could sleep. It was hard, but every time I looked into Penny’s gray-blue eyes, I knew it was worth it. Belle slept better when I had the baby off in another room. But lately, she resisted waking up when Penny needed to nurse.

  I told myself I couldn’t blame her.

  As the weeks passed, I found myself more aware of Penny’s cries, waking more easily to help with midnight changes and feedings. Belle would nurse her, pass her back to me, and roll over to sleep. It wasn’t that I minded. I didn’t. It was that I wasn’t sure if we’d simply developed a survival routine, so that we all got what we needed, o
r if we were going through the motions.

  “Pictures in the morning,” Belle murmured, sliding beneath the sheets and rolling toward the side of the bed where Penny had finally fallen asleep.

  I turned to her, rubbing her thigh, and kissed her shoulder. “Are you sure you’re up for it? Pictures can wait.”

  “We barely have time to send cards as it is,” she said glumly. “We have a new house and a new baby. People will expect them.”

  “Who cares what they expect?” I said gently. She went rigid next to me.

  “I can handle a simple task like Christmas cards,” she snapped. Penny stirred, her whole body wiggling in its swaddle, and both of us froze. We’d grown used to holding our breath, worried that we’d accidentally woken her. When Penny remained asleep, Belle shifted slightly, so that my hand fell from her waist. “Good night.”

  I hesitated. Part of me wanted to clear this up. I hadn’t meant to upset her. I’d only meant to remind her that we didn’t need to worry about silly things like cards if it was going to make her more stressed out. But somehow I knew that staying so would only make matters worse. Instead, I settled for planting a kiss behind her ear. “Love you, beautiful.”

  She didn’t respond. I told myself she’d already fallen asleep. She’d had a rough day. But I’d been telling myself that a lot lately, and I was having a hard time believing it myself. I laid next to her, staring at the ceiling, until sleep took me.

  A mewling cry shattered the darkness and I rolled over, rubbing my bleary eyes. My hand reached to find Belle’s side of the bed cold and empty. “Need help?”

  The only response was Penny’s cry. I sat up, instantly alert, flipping on the lamp on my nightstand. Belle sat on the edge of the bed, her head tilted toward the bassinet, one hand on its edge. At first, I thought she was rocking it, but neither she nor the bassinet moved. She must have fallen asleep like this, trying to get the baby back down. Penny grew more insistent, and I leapt up, circling the bed to the wicker bassinet. But when I reached it, I found Belle staring at the baby, her unblinking eyes rimmed with red from tears.

  “Beautiful,” I said gently, leaning to pick Penny up.

  She startled slightly, finally lifting her face to mine. I took a step back when her eyes met mine. It was obvious she’d been crying but that wasn’t what stunned me. I’d looked into her eyes a thousand times and known exactly what she was thinking: fear, excitement, joy. There was nothing there now. They were as void as a pool of still water at night.

  I swallowed, worry pricking at the back of my mind. “Get some rest. I’ll take her to the nursery for a bit.”

  She didn’t respond. She only crept toward the pillow and rolled away from me, wrapping her knees to her chest. I paused, wondering if I should ask her to talk, but Penny began to cry and I spotted Belle’s shoulders shake a little as she began to cry again. Stroking Penny’s back and shushing her softly, I tiptoed from the room and closed the door behind me.

  Penny continued to fuss as I carried her to the nursery, but a few minutes later, she settled in a sleepy bundle against my shoulder as I rocked her. If only I could soothe her mother as easily. The only thing that seemed to help Belle was when we weren’t around.

  Looking down at Penny, I marveled as her eyelids fluttered as she slept, sleepy smiles dancing on and off her face. I loved every moment she was in my arms—and I wanted Belle to feel the same way. I thought of her sitting on the edge of that bed and wondered how long she’d been there before I’d woken up. No matter how many times I told her to wake me or reminded her I was happy to get up with Penny, she never asked me to. She’d stopped asking me for much of anything. I loved her more than ever, and I’d never felt so disconnected from her. I wanted to make this right, but how do you make someone happy if you’re what upsets them?

  “Okay, can you lift the baby a little higher?” the photographer coaxed as I paced nervously around the sitting room. Belle obliged, holding Penny up under the arms as she gurgled. My wife and daughter were dressed as similarly as a grown woman and a six-week old could be.Penny in a cream top with a Peter Pan collar, navy short pants and a small bow. She’s swept her hair up, pinning it into a twist. Between that and the cashmere sweater that draped elegantly off her shoulder, she looked like she’d stepped out of a magazine. “That’s it. Now smile.”

  Belle’s lips widened into a smile that I’d never seen before. It didn’t belong to her. It was like looking at a stranger. She’d chosen to do the photos in front of our Christmas tree. Humphrey had overseen its erection and decorated it, a few days ago, at my request. Someday, the three of us would decorate our tree together and have our own traditions. This year, I didn’t want to add any more chaos to our plates. The remodel had only finished last week despite having crews here around the clock—another sore point likely contributing to her stress. I’d been sure that as things settled down, Belle would finally feel at ease in our new home.

  But the woman sitting in front of the Christmas tree was a stranger. An odd wave of protectiveness surged through me, and I fought the desire to take Penny out of her arms. It was unfair of me. Belle adored our daughter. That was clear. As often as I caught her crying, I found her rocking Penny to sleep, pure adoration written across her face.

  “They’re going to be terrible,” Belle complained after the photographer had packed up and left. She shifted on her feet, swaying with Penny, who’d fallen asleep.

  “No picture of the two of you could be terrible.” I refused to even entertain the thought. Belle was the most perfect creature I’d ever seen, and our daughter already looked like a miniature version of her.

  She opened her mouth to protest, but her mobile rang. I held out my arms and she passed Penny to me. I wandered the room as Belle took the call. We’d opted to keep many of the classic touches that showcased Thornham’s history. It had cost a small fortune to rehab the room’s crown moulding with its original swirls and flourishes. In the end, we’d opted to paint the entirety of the space a warm white which made the room feel open and airy—no small feat in a home of this age. To keep it from looking too modern, we’d opted for opulent velvet furniture in deep shades of blue and tables with rich, deep woodtones. The persian rug drew the entire space together and made it elegant and inviting. We’d settled on most of these details before Penny was born, and I found myself grateful, we had, since I couldn’t imagine worrying about such trivial fucking things now. Despite our foresight, we still had no dining room table. It wouldn’t arrive until after the new year, and my study consisted of a desk, empty shelves, and dozens of boxes waiting to be unpacked. My office in town was available if I needed a space to work, although I wouldn’t be taking clients until Penny was a bit older.

  Because, despite our intentions, Belle flat refused to hire any of the nannies we’d seen. The most I’d been able to convince her to do was speak with one of them about coming on in the future.

  “I can’t believe it.”

  I turned to look at Belle, who was staring at her phone. She raised her head, her eyes lit like the Christmas tree next to her, and grinned. “We got the deal with Society. They’re going to publish our monthly curated looks.”

  She flew to me, arms wide and I turned into her. Her chin rested on my shoulder as she kissed my cheek.

  “That’s amazing, beautiful.” I meant it. She’d taken her company, Bless, from an idea to a force in the fashion industry. But that wasn’t what really mattered. I hadn’t seen her this excited for weeks.

  “Lola spoke with them. She’s going to put things together and send them to me for approval. It will have to be a joint effort until I’m back from maternity leave,” she rattled off all the details in a hushed voice while Penny continued to sleep in my arms.

  “Your mum is famous,” I whispered to Penny, and Belle smiled sheepishly, rolling her eyes.

  “It’s nothing.” She shrugged and I could already sense the happiness fading from her. I wished I could find the place where it was seeping out and
fix it.

  “It’s everything,” I said quickly. “And you don’t have to take maternity leave, beautiful.”

  She bristled and I rushed on before she could mistake what I was saying. “I’m here without any clients. We can always call Nora to come a few days a week, so we have an extra set of hands.”

  Belle bit her lower lip, a battle playing across her pale features. “Penny’s too little for a nanny.”

  “Not a nanny. Just some help,” I corrected her. I’d been thinking of how to bring this up for a while. “Penny could be with you while you worked and Nora could just hang out. Nora might even be an extra set of eyes for you.”

  “She’s a little young to be our target demographic, but she did seem interested in Bless,” Belle said thoughtfully. “Maybe just a couple afternoons a week.”

  “That makes sense,” I said casually.

  Belle took a deep breath, her eyes finding the floor, before she finally lifted them and whispered, “Am I a bad mom if I miss working?”

  I shook my head, sighing, feeling as though a missing piece of an unfinished puzzle had finally appeared.

  “How can you be sure?”

  “If I told you I needed to meet a client in the village, what would you say?” I asked.

  “I guess I’d just ask when and how long you’d be gone.” Her eyebrows furrowed together. “But you aren’t taking clients.”

  “That’s not the point. It wouldn’t be odd for me to ask, so you shouldn’t feel guilty for working either,” I pointed out.

  “It’s not like we need the money. I should be the one home with Penny,” she continued.

  “And you will be.” I turned and kissed her forehead. “If anyone can be a brilliant business woman and a super mum, it’s you.”

  “Are you sure?” The corners of her mouth twitching like she might actually smile.

  “I’ll always bet on you,” I promised, meaning it with all my heart.