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