Page 54 of Breathe Me: Smith & Belle

“What do you think I was doing in Italy?” he asked.

“I don’t know.” I shrugged. Not learning to cook. “Staring at beautiful Italian men and sipping spritzes?”

“It turns out you can only do that for so many hours in a day,” he said dryly. “I figured if I’m going to strike out on my own, I’m going to need to know how to do things like cook.”

There was a brief moment of tense silence as I realized what he was implying. I glanced at Smith, seeing the same understanding written across his face.

“That makes sense,” I said swiftly, worried the conversation would veer into dangerous territory. This was the first Edward had talked about plans that lasted more than a holiday trip to whatever part of the globe caught his fancy. I didn’t want to press him too far too fast, but it was nice to see him thinking about the future, even if I wasn’t sure I liked the implication of him striking out on his own. “So, Christmas shopping? I have no idea if Briarshead has decent shops.”

“I’m sure it’s not Harrods,” he said, "but we can find something. Smith must need hunting gear or golf equipment or whatever manly hobby he’s taking up in the countryside.”

"I’m quite busy enough,” my husband said in a clipped tone. “I’d rather you two just enjoyed yourself and not worry about me.”

I couldn’t help wondering if Smith had even bothered getting me a Christmas present. Maybe that’s why he didn’t want me to shop for him. It was not as though there’d been time, and neither of us had been to London since Penny was born. He was always here, always working, always overseeing some new project on the grounds. I made up my mind not to stress about a present for him. If something caught my eye, I’d pick it up. Otherwise a new baby and a new house seemed like more than enough for one year.

In the meantime, Edward had drawn out his mobile to check the Internet for the shops available to us in the village. As he began to fill me in, ranking his interest and making slightly snide remarks about a few of them, I found myself laughing. After a few minutes, I felt Smith’s eyes on me. Looking up, I found a stony mask in place of a smile. He’d worn it often when we first met, guarding himself from me. Now it was back. He’d been the one to call Edward here, so why was he acting so coldly? Before I could hunt for more clues, he laid his napkin on the table and rose.

“If you’ll excuse me. I need to return a few phone calls,” he said “I’ll check on Penny.”

“We can do that,” Edward said quickly. “I want to spend more time with my godchild. I assume I’m her godfather?”

“I’ll put it in the will,” Smith said dryly. “Good night.” He disappeared into the hall, off to do whatever he did in his study in the evenings. The memory of opening his desk drawer to find Margot’s photograph drifted into my mind, and I shooed it away.

Tonight, I was determined to be happy. That was the first step in finding my way back to him.

Edward’sgood mood had continued into the following day. When I brought up Christmas shopping, he’d insisted we go, and that we bring Penny along. Just the two of us. I’d battled my own anxiety over it and agreed. For the last hour we’d been strolling through Briarshead, popping in and out of the small shops in the village. Most of them required we leave the pram at the door, given the age of the buildings and their layouts, so Edward took to carrying Penny. He was a natural at it, and it was clear Penny adored her Uncle Edward.

“Spill,” I demanded. “What’s your secret?”

He turned, Penny cradled in one arm asleep, and a book in his other hand. “I’m sorry?”

“You’re clean-shaven, well-dressed, and in a good mood,” I said, crossing my own arms and studying him like I might be able to unlock what was going on with or without his assistance.

“And that’s a problem?” he asked

I hesitated, worried that bringing David up might ruin the festive atmosphere. The truth was I was desperate to know how he was doing it. The last time, I’d seen Edward, he’d been in a dark place. Had Italy been that amazing? Part of me had thought when he arrived that there would be someone to share my misery with. Instead, I’d gotten my best friend delivered to me in one cleaned up, cheerful package. “The last time I saw you…”

“Some things have changed since then,” he said quietly, placing the book back on the shelf. “Some things haven’t.”

“What changed?” I asked, not trying to hide the plea in my voice. Edward hadn’t simply come for Christmas. He’d been summoned by Smith, which meant he’d been filled in on what was going on in my life. He knew about the postpartum depression. I was sure of it. If he had some secret cure that could fix me, I wanted to know.

“I started taking pills,” he said, hurriedly adding, “prescription ones, I mean. I spoke to a doctor. I just decided I didn’t want to feel that way.”

A lump formed in my throat. That was his secret? I blinked against a sudden blur of tears. I’d already tried that.

“Hey, talk to me. I get the sense that’s not what you wanted to hear.” Edward stepped closer, giving us a little bit of privacy. Now that he had cleaned up his act, eyes followed him all over the village. He was no longer flying under the radar. Briarshead knew Prince Edward was in town.

“I went to the doctor,” I whispered, “and I started the medication, but it just makes me sleepy and fuzzy.”

He pushed the bridge of his horn rimmed glasses higher up on his nose, nodding thoughtfully. “When did you start taking it?”

“A few days ago,” I said.

“It takes a fortnight at least,” he said soothingly. “You just have to give them time to work.”

“Are they going to make me feel this terrible forever?” I asked.

“I didn’t have side effects, but I read the pamphlet the pharmacist gave me,” he said with a grin. “I think you’ll be okay. If you’re not feeling better by the time two weeks is passed, maybe you should talk to your doctor about something else.”