Capture Me (Royals Saga: Smith and Belle Book 3) Page 13
“You and me both.” She swatted me away. Georgia had never been one for public displays of affection. She’d much rather be publicly whipped than hugged. “Go home and talk to your wife.”
“I’ll let you know how it goes,” I promised her. I’d come here because I needed to talk to someone who knew me, but as I left, I couldn’t help but wonder if I knew her at all. Maybe my surrogate sister wasn’t as badass as she let on.
“Don’t make threats!” she called after me. She was going to keep putting on the show though.
Georgia was right. Belle and I needed to communicate if we were going to work through our issues. The circumstances surrounding our relationship had accelerated our courtship. We’d bypassed some important moments along the way, like how to depend on each other. We’d just assumed we could.
Chapter 21
The spicy aroma of ginger and cinnamon drifted through the department store as I made my way through the hordes of holiday shoppers. Christmas had infiltrated every nook and cranny in the place, but the crowds milling about the ground floor of Harrods only annoyed me. It was Christmas Eve, and unlike me, they’d had weeks to do their holiday shopping. I had to cram mine into a day. It didn’t help that I was feeling far from festive. There was a good possibility that everyone in my life was getting socks. I wasn’t certain I had it in me to do more. Not this year.
It should have been the merriest time of the year for me. With Smith newly absolved of any wrongdoing in the death of Jake Stanton and Hammond locked up, I should finally be settling into married life.
But I just couldn’t.
The doctor had assured me that my grief would lessen with time. I doubted it.
What did make me happy was that Edward had arranged for a private shopping experience on the fifth floor. While I didn’t relish the idea of putting up with a simpering personal shopper, the less people I had to deal with, the better.
But as soon as a young brunette, whose name I’d already forgotten, showed me to the room, I stopped inside the door and gawked.
Edward jumped to his feet and rushed over to me. “I was beginning to think you were avoiding us. You’ve been back in London for days!”
“It’s been seventy-two hours,” I corrected him in an overly-harsh voice. He probably didn’t deserve it. I knew he didn’t, but it wasn’t as if I’d been larking about since we returned.
The truth was that I had been avoiding him. I’d been avoiding everyone.
Edward stepped back and gave me an unimpressed look. He wasn’t the type to put up with drama, despite how often it surrounded him. As a group, we’d managed to keep most of it from affecting our relationships with one another. It was the only reason any of us were still sane.
“You okay?” he whispered. “Smith called me a few days ago.”
I sucked in a breath. How much had he shared with Edward? “I’m fine,” I said dismissively. “I have a little PTSD.”
“That’s understandable. Everything is fine with you two though?” he continued.
My heart lurched, skipping a beat. I had no idea what Smith had told him, but the idea that my best friend was running a relationship check put me ill at ease.
“We’re great,” I lied.
“Good. I’d hate to have to kill him,” Edward deadpanned.
I forced a grin at the bad joke. There were bigger problems to deal with now. It wasn’t Edward’s ignorant remark that had me on guard or the fact that I really would rather have been in bed, it was that our private shopping experience apparently included more than the two of us.
“I hope you don’t mind that I came along,” Clara said as she adjusted Elizabeth’s swaddle on the couch. My godchild kicked it off immediately. “I think the days of swaddling are behind us. Farewell sleep.”
“You could get a nanny,” Edward suggested.
“Exactly who would Alexander trust around his princess?” she asked, snorting a bit.
“You two have a country to run.” Edward took the squirmy, half-wrapped bundle from Clara. Offering her to me as I joined them on the couch.
I took her with trembling hands, terrified that I would drop her. It wasn’t a fear that I’d had before. I’d never thought twice when I got the chance to hold her before we’d left for Somerset. Now that had changed. If they knew, neither of them would have dared to hand me that baby. But exactly how was I supposed to catch my best friends up on my emotional instability? That definitely didn’t seem appropriate for a light-hearted holiday shopping excursion.
“He has a country to run,” she corrected him. “I’ve got my hands full with that one.”
“So I suppose the tabloid rumors that you’re already pregnant again—”
“Are big, fat lies,” she cut him off. “He’d love it, of course. I swear he’s constantly talking about getting me pregnant again.”
“Maybe you should make him get up with her more often.”
“That’s just it, he does. I swear he’s up for every nappy change. I keep reminding him that he’s one of the most powerful men in the world, he doesn’t need to breed an empire.” Clara laughed, turning toward me just in time to catch the first tear streak down my cheek. “Oh my God, what’s wrong?”
They were on either side of me before I had time to react. I cradled Elizabeth closer, breathing in her sweet baby scent and searching for the right words. In the end, there were none, so I lied. “I missed her so much. She’s gotten so much bigger.”
All of it was true, but it wasn’t the reason I was crying. Edward dropped an arm around my shoulder and hugged me closer. Clara gave me a slight smile, her eyes flashing to mine. I wasn’t fooling her. Probably because she knew I was not the crying type. I was the one who held her while she cried. I’d barely cried when I left Philip. Of all the times my mother had shown up at university and belittled me in front of her, I hadn’t cried.
“Sorry,” I choked. “Smith had me up late. He’s been celebrating for days.”
“And yet none of us were invited to the party?” Edward said in mock dismay.
“It was a private party.” It was becoming too easy to be dishonest with them. Since when had lying to the two of them become second nature?
It’s self-preservation. The last thing I needed was another person pitying me. Smith already treated me as if I were broken.
“Speaking of, in honor of both of your infamous love lives, I arranged to start with the lingerie,” Edward announced.
My stomach dropped out, but I forced a smile. It couldn’t be any worse than shopping for other presents.
As if on cue, a salesgirl rolled a rack of filmy fabrics and lace into the room. Clara turned on Edward. “If I get pregnant, it’s on you.”
The two fell into a good-natured argument on the likelihood of Clara having two babies under two years of age and the effectiveness of birth control. By the time I’d half-heartedly ordered two negligées, I’d gone numb. The rest of my holiday shopping would have to wait.
“Is that the time?” I pretended to be shocked as I checked my mobile. “I’m due to meet Jane.”
“But we’ve barely seen you,” Clara said. She wasn’t talking about today. She was talking about the last few months. I fumed as I said goodbye and gave Elizabeth a kiss. If anyone should understand how all-consuming love could be, it should be Clara.
So when she grabbed my hand and mouthed, “Call me,” I could barely nod. I needed more time. I only wish I knew how much.
I didn’t have an appointment to meet Jane, but that hardly mattered. My great aunt had played therapist to me and my friends for years, offering her particularly incisive insights into our personal lives based on her unique life experiences. Letting myself into the flat we’d shared not so long ago, I felt a rush of emotion. I closed my eyes and breathed in the scent of patchouli and black tea that hung thickly in the air. This was the closest place I had to home. I’d never felt welcome at Stuart Hall, my flats at university had a sort of transitory quality that prohibited them from fee
ling as such, and I hadn’t lived in Holland Park long enough to call it home.
Jane flew around the corner holding a candlestick, which she dropped as soon she saw me. “You’re going to give me a heart attack!”
But if I’d thought she was genuinely angry, her accompanying hug set me straight.
“I wasn’t sure if my key would work,” I admitted. After what had happened, I’d half-expected that I’d find the flat empty. Any address associated with me was sure to be a target.
“Clara saw to it that I had constant surveillance. I had to ask her to pull the boys from duty when I read that they’d arrested that man in connection with what happened at the hotel.” Her face was grim as she spoke. “Was that the man that hurt you?”
“Yes and no.” I shook my head and pulled away from her. “I really don’t want to talk about it.”
“What do you want to talk about?” she asked in a quiet voice. Her gaze flickered to the hand that bore my wedding band.
“Still married,” I said with a bemused smile.
“You sound unconvinced.” Jane had already begun to boil water for tea. If there were two things that she could be counted on for, it was tea and wine. Given that it wasn’t noon yet, I was getting the former.
“It was hard.” I didn’t want to spill all my problems to her, despite her track record for helping me make sense of them. “I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you where we went.”
“I knew where you were,” she scoffed.
“I suppose it wasn’t hard to guess.” All the time I’d spent protecting her had been a waste.
“That and your mother called right after you arrived, demanding to know when you had gotten married and how much your husband was worth.”
“Mother of the year,” I grumbled. It didn’t surprise me that she only saw Smith as a new bank account, but it still stung. I guess being used by the people who were supposed to love you never stopped hurting.
Jane shrugged. She, like I, had given up on my mother long ago.
“It was better you didn’t call. The papers have been full of information about the alleged conspiracy plot.” She set a chipped cup and saucer in front of me.
I wanted to care enough to ask her about it or even pick up a paper at the corner store, but I didn’t. Whatever information Hammond and his lawyers were feeding to the press would hardly be accurate. I’d lived the conspiracy, and I didn’t need to endure it twice.
We lapsed into silence until Jane shook her head. “What’s going on?”
I didn’t know where to start or what to share. I wasn’t even sure I could. My heart was still raw, and opening up might only make it worse.
“I love Smith,” I began, “but I’m starting to realize how little we know about each other.”
“You know you love him,” she pointed out. “That’s a solid start.”
“And everyone in my life is mad that I married him. Maybe they’re right and I made a rash decision.” I kept trying to see it that way, but I couldn’t. If anyone could put it into perspective, Jane could.
“I think sometimes that rash decisions are the best decisions. They’re the ones you make on instinct, because you’re in tune with your heart.” Jane took my hand and squeezed. It was her signature move for good reason, because it always made me feel better. “You love him, and now you have to work out the rest. Do you want him in your life?”
“I do,” I whispered.
“There’s something else,” she guessed. If the woman had a crystal ball, she’d be a damn successful psychic.
“I got…I mean, I was pregnant.” It was easier to say than I’d thought. After days of working myself up over the secret, just admitting it had happened was a relief.
“Oh, love.” Jane shifted and pulled me close.
“I don’t even know why I’m so upset. It wasn’t planned, and I’m so young. And well, everything.” No tears came as I told her. It was as if I’d cried myself dry.
“Because you had a vision of a future, and it was stolen from you. That’s hard for anyone.” She rubbed her hand down my shoulder as she spoke. “How is Smith taking it?”
“Better,” I said, tacking on, “I think.”
“I have a feeling I know exactly why you’re questioning your marriage.” She pulled back and met my eyes. “You are both in mourning.”
“I just feel angry and sad and helpless and guilty all at the same time. He was trying so hard to take care of me and I just kept pushing him. It’s all my fault.”
“I don’t believe that,” she said firmly, “and neither does Smith.”
“How do you know that?” I asked.
“Because he loves you, too. Do you blame him?”
“No.” But I hadn’t exactly acted that way. I’d spent a considerable amount of time accusing him of small crimes since it had happened. “I’ve been cruel to him, because I’m angry with myself.”
“And he’s still there,” Jane reminded me, “because he loves you. You didn’t walk away from him when he was in trouble. He’s not walking away now. I think, if nothing else, you two are willing to fight and that’s going to make all the difference.”
“What if it’s too late?”
“For love? Never.” There was no room for doubt in her voice. I had to just trust that she was right.
Smith didn’t answer his mobile when I rang him. I couldn’t face returning to an empty house. Not after I’d ripped open my heart to Jane. I needed to go someplace where I could feel like my old self. When I found myself in front of Bless’s studio entrance, I knew I’d found my reprieve. As soon as I let myself in, I discovered how much had changed in my absence. The bones were still the same, but now the shelves were full. The racks of designer clothes I’d envisioned had become reality. On the far wall, Lola had hung a whiteboard counting the number of current subscribers.
671.
I dropped my purse on the floor, startling Lola who flew out of her seat. She’d allowed her dark hair to grow longer, making her look even more like her sister.
“Oh my God!”
I was being hugged before I could process any of this. “Is that right?”
Lola turned to where I pointed, a huge smile bursting over her face. “It is.”
“I was hoping for like ten,” I admitted. Hundreds of subscribers felt impossible. “You did it!”
“We did it,” she corrected me. “This is your baby, I’ve just been playing nanny.”
She was underselling her importance. Without her, none of this would have happened. Bless would have wound up defunct before I’d even launched.
“Let me look at you.” She stepped back and studied me.
Considering that I’d thrown on a pair of leather skinny pants and a slouchy sweater, I doubted I looked the part. Lola, on the other hand, had paired tights with a simple, timeless wrap dress. There was a reason I’d begged her to be the public face of the company since she’d come on board.
“Not exactly CEO material, right?”
“Nonsense.” She waved her hand, dismissing my self-doubt. “Your style is effortless. That’s the hardest kind of look to achieve, which is excellent since the French office of Trend wants to profile you for next spring’s issue.”
I raised an eyebrow. My last big break with Trend had turned into a slaughter at the hands of the editor.
“You aren’t working with Abigail Summers again,” she assured me. “Believe me, I wasn’t about to let you go to Paris without some assurances.”
Paris. Could I go to Paris? Did I even want to?
“Don’t even think of saying no.”
“It’s just…I think you should do it.” That was the honest truth. As happy as I was to be back at Bless’s helm, I wasn’t certain I was ready to step into the public eye. Not after what had happened to me in the last few weeks.
“We will fight about this later. For now I have many important things for the boss to sign off on.”
I listened as she rattled off information about the relatio
nships we’d established with various brands. Unsurprisingly, a number of up and coming designers had jumped at the chance at supplying pieces at cost. A few of the older brands were being a bit pricklier. It was exactly what we’d suspected.
“I almost feel badly for taking such a discount,” Lola commented as she showed me some of the newer designers’ garments.
“We’re not stepping on them to climb the fashion industry ladder,” I reminded her. “We’re taking them with us. Bless is going to build every designer it works with as much as we build our own business.”
“You’re such a guru,” she teased.
That was an overstatement, but I’d encountered enough unscrupulous businessmen to know that I didn’t want to operate that way.
“And John sent these over by messenger yesterday.” She’d saved the bad news for last. Lola knew me too well. I wouldn’t have been able to appreciate all the good news if we’d started off with the legal problems our company was facing.
But when I opened the manila envelope, it was a set of documents that I hadn’t seen before. There was nothing about the lawsuit. Rather it was some type of consent to transfer my management of the estate. I could read through the legalese for hours and probably still not know what I was reading, or I could call John.
He answered on the second ring.
“John, what did you send me?” I asked the moment he said hello, bypassing the usual pleasantries.
“I was wondering when you would be back from your holiday.”
There was no way John believed I’d gone on holiday to my family estate. For one thing, he knew me too well. For another, Smith’s personal attorney worked in the same office, which we’d discovered by accident. But my older half-brother was nothing if not polite.
“I am,” I said, “and I was looking at the papers you sent to the office yesterday. I guess I just don’t know what they mean.”
“It’s the management transfer you asked for.” There was a long pause.