Page 53 of Breathe Me: Smith & Belle

Belle

"Warning, Mrs. Winters can be a little testy,” I said under my breath.

Edward gave me a crooked smile. “You forget I was the peacekeeper in my family growing up. No one can resist my charms.”

I seriously doubted that, but I couldn’t help noticing how much more relaxed Edward seemed since his return home from Italy. He’d filled me in on his time away. Most of it he’d spent on the Riviera or bouncing about Tuscany in search of the best wine. Somehow, he’d even managed to stay incognito enough that no one recognized him. I still had a hard time believing that. Maybe people there were just less interested in the scandals surrounding his family.

As we sat down around the new dining table, it was clear that he intended to make good on his promise to win Mrs. Winters’s affection over dinner. When she sat the large shepherd’s pie in the center of the table, he whistled appreciatively.

“I missed real food,” he told her. “I think I’ve had enough noodles for a lifetime.”

"Well, it doesn’t show,” she said, eyeing him with a mixture of suspicion and pride. “But I’ll be glad to cook any of your favorites while you’re here.”

She bustled back towards the kitchen, humming happily to herself. She was still determined her place was there and ours was here in the formal dining room, but I’d never seen her look so self-satisfied. Edward tossed a wink in my direction as if to say see?

"She’s always asking me what I want to eat,” I said with a shrug, feeling my own lips tugging up.

“That’s because you’re the lady of the house,” he said, unfolding a napkin and placing it in his lap. “You’re supposed to dictate the menu.”

"As though I care what we eat. Who would? I’m just happy to be fed.”

"Clara made the same complaint when they moved to Buckingham.” The statement was out of his mouth before he realized what he was saying. A gloomy silence descended instantly over the table, and I found myself shooting Smith a look, hoping he could think of something—anything—to say that would change the topic.

“Will you stay for Christmas?” Smith asked.

I was a little surprised they hadn’t hashed out more of the details before he arrived. I’d assumed this was part of Smith’s gift to me, convincing Edward to finally visit for the holidays.

“I don’t want to impose, but I was well past due to meet little Penny.” He dug his fork into the potatoes on his plate, moving them around a bit without taking a bite. “I’m here as long as you want.”

"Careful,” Smith warned him, “she’ll never let you leave.”

Even though he smiled as he spoke, I didn’t miss the sharp edge biting through his words. Edward, however, seemed blissfully ignorant to the double meaning hiding under Smith’s statement.

“The place is big enough,” he said. “I’d love to stay for Christmas if you’ll have me.”

It was the best news I’d received in weeks. “You can help me shop for Christmas. With everything going on, I haven’t even started.”

"Of course you haven’t,” he said with a laugh, as though this was perfectly natural. “You just had a baby. You have a new house. Honestly, if you know what day of the week it is, you’re killing it.”

A flash of gratitude crossed Smith’s face, but he turned his attention to his plate as soon as he realized I saw.

“I think this is the best thing she’s made,” he said conversationally.

“I’ll have to ask her to teach me how to cook it,” Edward said.

My fork froze midway to my mouth. “Excuse me?”

“How to cook it,” he repeated. “The recipe?” he added when I continued to stare at him.

“I was fairly certain you didn’t know how to boil an egg,” I told him.

“I’m not that helpless.”

I placed my fork on the table and leveled my face to his in challenge. “So you know how to boil an egg?”

“I could learn,” he said with a wave of his hand. “It didn’t come up in my cooking class.”

“Cooking class?” I repeated, even more shocked.