Breathe Me Smith and Belle (Royals Saga #11) - Geneva Lee Page 0,50

tell her not to bother, but she’d already hung up. It was a waste of George’s time to keep looking into this, especially if it was as simple as getting a file from Longborn. I wanted to know more about the skeletons they found of my property, but I couldn’t deny that all evidence pointed to a rational explanation for their presence. We’d probably simply disturbed an old grave, excavating to add to the casks. Sometimes, I wondered if my time in London had warped my perception of the world. Had I begun to see evil doing when there was only coincidence? I needed to focus on here and now, starting with checking on my wife. The hallway was so eerily quiet, I’d begun to think I’d imagined it. I poked my head into the guest rooms and the nursery, finding both empty. As I walked toward my room, the door opened and Nora ducked out. She took two steps in my direction before looking up. When she did she froze in her tracks, letting out a tiny yelp.

“I’m sorry to scare you,” I said. I looked over her shoulder at the bedroom door she’d closed behind her. “I thought I heard someone come in.”

“Lunch ended a little more quickly than expected,” Nora said, choosing her words carefully. I recognized a lawyer’s trick when I heard one. She was telling the truth but leaving out the important bits. Her eyes skirted aways from me as she spoke, and I wondered what had made her so nervous. Before I could ask her, the bedroom door opened again, revealing a harassed-looking Belle, bouncing the baby wearily. When she saw me, she sighed.

That was new. I told myself it meant nothing, but even something as simple as finding me at our bedroom door seemed to annoy her.

“Can one of you take her? I need to lie down.”

I stepped forward, arms open and accepted Penny. “Are you feeling alright?”

My question was cut off by the bedroom door closing. I turned to Nora, hoping for answers, but she only smiled. “I can take her to the nursery if you like. I still have a few more hours scheduled here.”

“Why don’t you check in with Mrs. Winters?” I suggested. “She usually does Penny’s laundry in the morning. It might be nice if Belle woke up to everything done.”

“I can do that.” She nodded enthusiastically, and I thought I caught a bit of relief on her face as she headed toward the spiral staircase that led to the lower levels.

What was that about? Had the baby been more than a handful? Something brought them home early. Now Belle was locked in our bedroom and the new nanny was avoiding eye contact. I hoped I was simply reading into things. I carried Penny back to my study. Whatever had been wrong earlier during their trip, she seemed content to sleep in my arms now. I half heartedly organized the papers on my desk with one free hand, mostly focused on enjoying the feeling of my daughter nuzzled against my chest. I sorted a stack to file and reached to open a desk drawer. I kept my father’s gun in the top drawer, so I opted for the lower one. When I opened it, I froze, spying the edge of a familiar picture frame.

When I decided to close my London office, I placed most of its furnishings and files into storage. There’d been no where to put them in our Holland Park home, so this was the first time in nearly six months that I’d sat at this desk. But even six months ago, the framed photograph of my late wife had been packed away in some dusty corner box in my office. I hadn’t looked at a picture of Margot since the moment I realized I was in love with Belle. I’d let Margot go then, consigning her to memories I rarely called to mind. Still, she was there in the back of my mind, intruding on my thoughts at the worst times. I’d failed her. Or she had failed me. The only thing I was certain enough about was that our marriage had been a disaster. More than that, it had been another of Hammond’s devious attempts to control me. He’d alluded to being behind the car accident that took her life, although he never had a chance to tell me why. Someone had murdered him before he came clean. I could have asked the last time