Breathe Me Smith and Belle (Royals Saga #11) - Geneva Lee Page 0,49
her to look into Thornham’s history, I braced myself as I answered. “Hello?”
“Yes, I’d like to speak to Lord Price. Is he available or is he out hunting or planning this evening’s round of charades in the salon?” she responded dryly.
“Have you ever been to the country?” I asked, sinking into my desk chair, and smiling despite myself. “Or have you just seen period dramas on television?”
There was an unladylike snort on the other end. “I don’t have time to go to the country, but yes I have been before.”
I had a hard time picturing Georgia amongst the genteel country circle, politely gossiping with the ladies after dinner and riding out on horseback for the morning hunt on weekends. It wasn’t her style. It wasn’t mine either. All the more reason, I was going to have to find something to do with myself. From all indications, that was exactly what people did in the country. At least, visiting aristocrats and billionaires. Thorneham was so far removed from the village that I didn’t exactly have a great sense of what day-to-day life was like amongst its small population. But from what I’d seen of estate life, Georgia wasn’t far off in her assumptions. “Did you need something?”
“I see that you’ve got the tuck-up part of living on an estate down" she answered. “I was calling with an update for you, but if you’re too busy doing whatever it is you do out there, you can call me back later.”
“Out with it,” I said, trying not to sound too eager. The truth was that except for when I read through the London Times over my morning coffee, I hadn’t kept up with anything going on in the city. With Belle and the baby gone for the day, I didn’t know what to do with my time. An update from Georgia would at least distract me until they returned home.
“Fine. There’s a sealed report about your house with the local police department.”
“A sealed report?” I repeated. “What does it say?”
“How would I know? It’s sealed,” she said slowly, so I could keep up.
That was the thing about Georgia—she would help you out, but she’d make you work for it. “Sorry. I was under the impression you worked for the King of Great Britain.”
“Whatever is in that file hasn’t been digitized,” she said. “I’d have to come and request it in person, or at least that’s what the detective that answered told me.”
“Longborn?”
“Something like that.”
Everything fell into place. I’d been concerned about what Longborn was coming to tell me, but it hadn’t occurred to me that he might find people digging into the history of the house suspicious. Georgia had probably triggered small-town paranoia, the kind that kept ghost stories alive, and now I would be receiving a personal visit from the officer to ensure everything was on the up and up.
“He called me this morning.” I pinched the bridge of my nose, feeling a headache coming on. “I’d actually thought there might be something to worry about when he said he needed to speak with me. He probably just wants to know who the pushy bitch requesting old files is.”
“Remind me not to do you any more favors,” Georgia said, her tone flat.
“I’ll request the file.” I couldn’t imagine what I’d owe her if she actually came down here and got the report in person. Possibly my second born.
“Something tells me he won’t like that,” Georgia said thoughtfully.
“Why would he care about an old file?” I asked.
“I don’t know. But I wasn’t a pushy bitch with him,” she said. I could almost picture her air quoting me. “I tried everything to get him to send me that file. I was sugar-sweet, Price, and he wouldn’t budge.”
“You know how things are in a village,” I said to her. “They have to abide by their red tape or they have nothing to do.”
“Well, if you find out more, I want to know,” Georgia said. “I want to know what’s hiding in your basement.”
“Nothing’s hiding in my basement,” I snapped. At the same moment the door down the hall slammed shut, startling me. I checked my Omega and frowned. Either Mrs. Winters was upset about something and slamming doors, or Belle’s lunch date had been cut short. For once, I’d rather deal with an irritated housekeeper than discover something had gone wrong for my wife’s trip out. “I need to go. It sounds like a dead end, anyway.”