Break Me: Smith and Belle (Royals Saga Book 12) Page 16
“It can’t be,” she said, shaking her head.
“Who else, though?” I plucked the letter from her fingers and folded it back up. “I have to go.”
“Not alone,” she said defiantly.
“Yes, alone.” I stepped before her, meeting her eyes under the light. “I don’t know how this is going to go down. I do know that if this is a game, it will be too easy to pin this on Belle. It’s what she wants. I can’t let that happen.
“The note proves—”
“What?” I snapped. “I could have written it! I could have taken those pictures. They won’t prove Belle’s innocence at all. If I knew what evidence had been planted, if I could control the narrative, maybe we might stand a chance.”
“Ask—”
“No,” I cut her off. I knew what she wanted me to do. But this was about more than covering up a frame job. “I have to take care of this.”
“What will she do with you?” Georgia asked. “Do you want Penny to grow up without a father?”
My jaw tightened, and I turned to find the moon. “When I was little my dad told me there was a man up there. That the moon was made of cheese. It’s one of the few memories of my father that makes me smile.”
“All the more reason to give Penny more memories of you,” Georgia said softly.
“That’s just it. I remember other things about my father. Meetings with scary men. Him making my mother cry. Being told to go to my room and not make a sound. His body, floating in that fucking pool. I have plenty of memories of my father, Georgia. Horrible memories of a cruel man.”
“You aren’t anything like him,” she said. She grabbed my arm until I turned back to her.
“But will I be?” My question echoed into the night. “He told me about the man on the moon when I was little. It wasn’t until I was older that he broke my heart.”
I wouldn’t put Penny through that. I wouldn’t allow my past to hurt Belle again. She’d suffered enough for my sins. There was only way to be certain she never bore the weight of my past again.
“And letting her win?” Georgia challenged, her brown eyes flashing. “How does that ensure this stops?”
“That’s where you come in. I left an envelope with instructions for you. There’s also one for Edward and Alexander. And one for Belle.”
“You’re not coming back,” she said in a hushed voice.
“I’m just covering my bases.” I forced a smile, but we both knew a lie when we heard it. “Look, just keep this quiet until it plays out—until I know what I’m up against.”
Georgia nodded, looking unhappy at the request. But we’d been loyal to each other for years. She wasn’t going to betray me now no matter how much she disagreed with me. She bent and reached into her boot to pull out a small pistol.
“Take this.”
I shook my head, refusing to take the gun. Tonight, I was bringing a different weapon. One that would free us from all of this forever. “If I don’t come back, give her that letter and tell her—”
“Tell her yourself.” Georgia poked a finger into my arm. “I’ll let you go. I’ll hand out your fucking letters but I won’t say goodbye for you.”
I nodded. It was a fair response. I’d told Belle how I felt in the letter. I’d included another for Penny for when she was old enough to understand. If I could have ripped my own heart out and left it to comfort them I would. Instead, words would have to do.
Still, it had been easier to leave those letters and walk out the door than it was to face my friend now. I’d been able to divorce myself from my actions to this point, compartmentalizing my goodbyes into a checklist. Belle hadn’t known what drove me to her this afternoon. She thought we were simply making up. The letters had been difficult to write but not as much as facing their recipients. I knew that now as I faced one. “Georgia, I—”
“I’m not saying goodbye to you,” she cut me off. “And I don’t want to hear your goodbye, either.”
Georgia pivoted away, her boots crunching on the evening frost as she returned to the house. I watched her go back to the life I’d fought for and the family I’d made, back to the warmth and light and love I would do anything to protect—even if it meant sacrificing myself.
Then, I turned toward the night to do just that.
I used the flashlight on my mobile phone to guide me toward the pond. The security lights perched on the corners of Thornham didn’t extend this far onto the property. It was probably why she had chosen this spot. But I suspected it had to do with that terrible moment a few weeks back when Belle had nearly fallen through the frozen lake. Since the letter had arrived this afternoon I had more questions than before. It was comforting to know that answers were near, even if they were going to cost me so much.
Fog had formed, blanketing the estate in a thick haze that made it impossible to see more than a few feet ahead. Part of me wondered if I’d made a mistake, refusing the gun from Georgia. But now that I was out here, I knew that it would have done me no good. I wouldn’t be able to get a clean shot off unless I was face to face with her. The flashlight’s beam, my only weapon against the fog, brought the trees around the pond into relief as I approached it, their branches’ shadows barely etched into the dark night. Most of the snow had melted over the warmer afternoon. But now, as the temperature dropped, it had begun to refreeze, turning the untended wild grasses surrounding the water to rise like shards of glass from the ground. Light glinted off the blades as they cracked underfoot. It hadn’t stayed cool enough for the pond to freeze over again. It had started to, but as I cast my beam across it I saw a dark patch at its center where it had yet to form ice.
A twig snapped on my left, its assassination echoing in the air around me. Whipping toward the sound, I raised the flashlight as she stepped from behind a tree and cut a path through the mist hovering over the grounds. Her head was bowed, her dark hair curtaining her face. A vice gripped my heart, waiting for her to look up. It was time to confront the ghost of the woman I’d never really known—the ghost of the woman I’d once thought I’d loved.
It was time to face Margot.
26
Belle
The fake party was going better than most real parties I’d attended recently, likely owing to the two large bottles of scotch that Smith had delivered between dinner and the serving of cake. Mrs. Winters had fussed over everyone, looking quite out of sorts to be forced to attend the festivities herself. I picked up a bottle and poured a double into a tumbler and carried it to her. “Why do you have a drink? It’s a party.”
She turned flustered eyes on me, her cheeks already pink, and I smelled proof she’d already begun to take my advice. “I shouldn’t. I need to get to the cake.”
“Do you need help with that?” I asked as she shifted dangerously from heel to heel.
She looked scandalized by the suggestion. “I’ll only be a few minutes.”
She bustled out of the room, nearly knocking into Georgia as she returned to the party.
“What’s wrong with you? This is your party,” I told her, as she got closer.
“Have they been like this all night?” She asked, frowning as she surveyed Edward and Alexander. The brothers had taken up spots on either side of the room, placing as much distance between themselves as possible. Despite the caution, Edward glowered in his older brother’s direction as he nursed what, by my count, was his third drink of the night.
“I probably shouldn’t have asked them to be in the same room,” I admitted. “Hopefully, Alexander will hear something soon. I don’t think they’d survive being under the same roof for an entire night.”
“He should probably head back toward London,” Georgia said in a flat voice.
I tried to get a better look at her, concerned that I pushed this charade too far. Shifting Penny to my other shoulder, I turned to her. “We just need to liven things up,” I decided, and clearing my throat, I raised my voice and called, “Time for presents!”
Maybe it was actua
lly me who needed the distraction. Each moment without answers only reminded me that I knew exactly who was to blame. Myself. As strange as this night was, I knew there were no parties or evenings with friends in my future. Maybe I had subconsciously chosen my lie to leave my family and friends with the happiest memory possible, given the circumstances.
My announcement had its intended effect, because Edward rose immediately to retrieve the wrapped package we’d picked up in the village earlier today.
“You got me a present?” Georgia muttered quietly.
“Trust me, it’s not much. We had a very limited selection to work with.”
“Should we wait for Mrs. Winters?” Georgia asked dryly. “Isn’t this all for her benefit?”
“Just open the present,” Edward said impatiently, thrusting it into her hands.
Georgia pulled back the taped edge of the wrapping carefully before efficiently removing it in one pristine sheet. When she turned to place it on a side table, she looked up to find us all watching her with wonder. “What?”
“Nothing,” I said quickly. “We just want to see what you got.” I suspected none of us had ever seen her be so gentle with anything. What were the chances she had a soft spot for wrapping paper?
Georgia turned the book over in her hands and stared at the title, stamped in gold gilt. “The Art of War by Sun Tzu—I’ve read it.”
“You have?” I did a terrible job of hiding my surprise.
“I can read,” she said, sounding a little offended. Despite her objections to the fake party, she looked oddly moved by the gift. Georgia turned her head as if she needed to hide her face. I looked to the others, finding them as shocked as me.
“Thanks,” she gritted out, still not looking at us. “I’ll have to have a fake birthday more often.”
The shrill ring of a phone distracted us from the awkward moment. Alexander pulled his mobile from his pocket and held up a finger. “Excuse me a moment.”
My heart rocketed into my throat, beating so hard I was worried I would wake Penny. She had only just fallen asleep, what with all the unexpected excitement of the evening. I almost envied her. I wished I could relax. Alexander stepped out of the sitting room and left the rest of us to stare at one another expectantly.
Brex finally broke the uncomfortable silence. “How about a real birthday? On the actual day? We can have cake and presents.”
Georgia’s answering grin was grim rather than grateful. “I don’t celebrate my birthday. I never have.”
“Since you were a kid?” Edward asked innocently.
“Ever.” She frowned.
“But it’s not like this is your first party,” I said with a nervous laugh.
“What if it is?” She shrugged her narrow shoulders.
I forced the startled look off my face, but it was too late. Brex and Edward were wearing similar expressions.
“Don’t feel sorry for me,” she demanded. “Who wants to celebrate the day they were born? You don’t even remember that day! You might as well pick some random Tuesday and have cake then.”
I’d hit up against Georgia’s protective shell before. But, in recent months, I’d gotten a peek at the soft heart she hid under it. I made a mental note to ask Smith about her past. Surely, she couldn’t have gone her whole life without a birthday party. Then again, Georgia liked to pretend she didn’t need anyone or anything, especially when it came to her feelings. Most of the time, she didn’t seem to have any at all. It was one of the reasons that I found her so hard to understand. I knew, for a fact, that she was a submissive, in the truest sense of the word. As someone who craved the liberation of giving control to my husband in the bedroom—if nowhere else—I knew the bliss that came with releasing the emotions and worries that preoccupied me.
But Georgia never seemed worried or upset about anything. Angry? Yes. But I didn’t see how that equated to her sexual predilections.
“Stop dissecting me,” she barked.
I turned away, embarrassed to be caught staring. “I’m sorry. I was just thinking…“ I searched for an excuse that would give us both an easy out. Before I could find one, Alexander reappeared in the room, looking stricken.
“We should talk,” he said in an unusually concerned voice. “Somewhere private.”
“I think you can tell anyone in this room,” I said, trying to ignore the slight shake in my own voice. “They’ll all find out, eventually.”
“It’s not that—” Alexander cut himself off as Mrs. Winters entered the room. He stayed silently as she surveyed all of us and inquired about drinks. He didn’t say anything until she headed back to the kitchen. “Where’s Smith? I should talk to him, too.”
“I thought he went to the loo.” My forehead wrinkled when I realized I had no clue how long my husband had been absent. I’d thought nothing when he’d excused himself for a moment after dinner, but I’d been too preoccupied to notice his absence.
“You should find him,” Alexander told me, his voice rich with meaning.
I couldn’t decide if he was being cautious due to the presence of the housekeeper, or because he wanted to wait for Smith to be here before he delivered bad news. I told myself it was the latter. After all, we’d gone out of our way to keep Mrs. Winters in the dark while knowing exactly where she was at all times. Alexander knew better than to share secrets in front of strangers. I imagined he’d spent his whole life learning to prevent the staff from overhearing the wrong thing.
I nodded and started toward the hall. Smith must have gone upstairs. He probably needed a moment away from our growing number of guests. I’d only gotten as far as the doorway when Georgia called, “Stop.”
“What?” I asked, even though my body halted in place.
“You won’t find him upstairs,” she confessed.
A drum pounded in my head as I stared at her, trying to translate her words into any meaning other than the one I already knew to be true. “Where is he?”
“I can’t tell you that.”
“Georgia,” I said, my voice low but filled with a dangerous undercurrent. “Where is he?”
“I heard you the first time,” she said. “I can’t tell you.”
“Then tell me,” Alexander ordered, stepping to my side.
Georgia shook her head.
My knees locked, my legs feeling weak beneath me, and I nearly crumbled. It was only Penny, still nestled in my arms, that forced me to stay upright. Something was happening. Georgia knew where he had gone. Judging from the pinched look on her face, she didn’t agree with whatever decision he had made.
Had he gone to take the fall for what I’d done? Was he on his way to the police to tell them he was responsible for Nora’s disappearance?
“I don’t think you understand,” Alexander continued. “I need to talk to him.”
“It might be too late for that,” she admitted.
I took one shaky step toward the nearest chair. Edward shot out of his own seat, just in time to rescue Penny from my arms as I finally buckled. I didn’t know what Georgia meant. I didn’t understand her words. Somehow, my heart did, though, because I felt it break.
“Where is he?” Alexander’s command boomed through the room, echoing in the vacant space my heart had recently occupied.
“Doing something stupid,” Georgia said through gritted teeth. Her jaw tensed, and I could see the war going on inside her. At last, she exhaled with a frustrated grunt. “He got a blackmail letter today. You didn’t kill anyone.”
That statement was directed at me. Everything hurt too much. I couldn’t process this, so I shook my head. “I don’t understand.”
“It’s a game,” she told me. “She always loved to play games.”
“Who?” I asked, but before she could answer, Mrs. Winters appeared with a cake. She’d taken the time to ice the chocolate cake with delicate flowers and there was a single, oversized candle burning brightly at its center.
“Shall we sing?” she asked, sounding more cheery than usu
al. She placed the cake on the table in the corner of the room, and continued, “Of course, we’ll want to serve it in the dining room, but I thought…“ She trailed off when she finally lifted her head to find us staring morosely at each other. “Is this a party or a funeral?”
I choked back a sob, and Edward sank into the chair next to me. He kept one arm around Penny, holding her carefully, and wrapped the other around my shoulder to pull me close.
“You brought a cake?” Alexander said out of nowhere. “But if you’re…“
“Will someone explain what’s going on?” Mrs. Winters said, looking put out. “I spent all day in the kitchen on that. You should sing a song and blow out your candle.” When none of us moved, she turned and huffed back to the kitchen.
“Who is it?” I turned pleading eyes on Georgia. She opened her mouth to answer when I realized it didn’t matter. Time was running out. There was only one thing to do now. I forced myself onto my feet. “Tell me where he is.”
The time for requests was over. It didn’t matter who my husband was facing, so much as that he was doing it without me. I had no idea what had driven Smith to such extreme measures, but I wasn’t going to wait here while he did it.
“The pond,” Georgia said in a strained voice as if she’d barely convinced herself to come clean.
“Stay with Penny,” I told Edward before starting toward the kitchen.
“Where are you going?” he called.
“To find my husband.” I barely made it two steps before Georgia’s hand tightened over my arm and yanked me back.
“Let me go.”
“I promised him,” she hissed.
“I promised him!” I exploded. “And he promised me, and he is not going to face whatever this is alone.”
“Of course he isn’t,” Alexander interjected. He turned and held out a hand to Brex. His guard studied him for a split second and, finally, sighed. Brex reached under his jacket and drew out a black handgun. He deposited it in the king’s palm before drawing another from the other side.