Page 92 of Claim Me

I’d forgotten to stay put, but Georgia hadn’t missed my exit from the party, even if I hadn’t seen her follow. This was why I hadn’t realized that I was constantly being surrounded. I strained my eyes around the dark courtyard looking for others but all I saw were drunken aristocrats who didn’t look like they’d be much use in a crisis. But Georgia would always be nearby and I should have remembered that.

It helped that she’d worn a jet black evening gown with sleeves that hugged her slender arms to the wrists. It might have been modest camouflage, except for the neckline, which cut so low that it revealed her navel. She blended well into the night while standing out. Much like Georgia, it was the perfect contradiction.

“Eavesdropping?” Belle asked, obviously trying to distract her from what she’d heard.

“Catching up with friends.” Georgia’s crimson smile was wolfish. “And you two are loud, anyone can hear you.”

My eyes flickered around the garden wondering who had heard what. I twisted the cap off the bottle and drank it quickly.

“We’re talking about baby stuff,” Belle said. “No one cares.”

We both gave her an incredulous look and she backtracked immediately. She lowered her voice to a whisper. “Okay, I guess they do, but it wasn’t interesting pregnancy stuff.”

The other day, there’d been ten stories about what antacids Georgia had been spotted buying me in a pharmacy. This was much more interesting.

“Are we being watched right now?” I asked Georgia.

She gave me an are-you-stupid look.

“Can we go somewhere that we aren’t being watched?”

“I think that’s the loo and your bedroom,” she said flatly.

I was glad some things were still sacred. If I had to pick, those would be the two exceptions I’d ask for. “The loo, it is.”

Using the loo for a clandestine conversation turned out to involve clearing out the entire bathroom first, which made me feel horrible, and then planting guards in front of the door.

“Happy?” Georgia asked after she’d checked the stalls one final time. “Now out with it.”

“It’s nothing.” I silently begged Belle to save me. She was usually good for a quick lie, but she shook her head.

“You might as well practice. Georgia is almost as scary as Alexander is,” Belle said, crossing her arms as she leaned against a sink.

“I promise you that I am much scarier.”

“Not helping,” I told her. I pretended to study myself in the mirror, but since we’d been at the party for all of an hour, there was nothing to fix.

“You can’t keep it from him. The doctor’s going to be doing house calls soon and he’s going to say something,” Belle argued.

“He can’t,” I reminded her. “If I tell him not to.”

Belle’s lips tugged down at the edges. The look of disappointment made me feel worse.

“What’s going on?” Georgia asked in a low voice.

I’d nearly forgotten she was here, but when our eyes met I realized I wasn’t walking out of this room without coming clean.

“What’s going on?” she repeated, edging closer to me, until she’d backed me against the wall. “You’re keeping something from Alexander that has to do with a doctor—are you sick?”

It took me a moment to process her sudden anger. She had me against a wall—literally. “I actually believed you when you said we were friends.”

“We are,” she informed me. “She’s the one who takes you shopping and helps you match your purse with your shoes. I’m the one who loses sleep when you’re on the outs with Alexander and walks behind you to watch your back.”

Belle’s eyes had rounded to full moons, and she took a small step towards us. “You should tell her. It’s not going away.”

And that was the problem. It wasn’t going away. I couldn’t cover it up or ignore it. I would have to face this—all of us would—and the moment of reckoning was nearly here.

“Pretend that she’s Alexander,” Belle suggested. “It will be practice.”