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Once the girls had left to return to the nursery, Gregory faced Holly.
“I had not intended for you to become involved with my children,” he began.
Holly interrupted. “We are a family now, and the household is my responsibility. I know that I am younger than you, Gregory, but I have been well-schooled in the running of a large establishment. Your children are miserable, and it is time they were allowed to be happy again. Two years of mourning is enough. They will never forget their mother, just as I hope that you will never forget your wife, but they need to move on as you are doing. I think it would help them to see a few pictures of their mother placed back about the house. Perhaps in the New Year, we could commission another family portrait with me included?”
“I will certainly give your suggestions some thought.” He sounded so formal.
“Oh, Gregory, what is wrong?” she asked, exasperated by his lack of understanding.
“Nothing is wrong. Our plans for Christmas are that the girls are going to stay with their grandparents—Bunty’s parents, that is. My mother is coming to join us here in order to make your acquaintance…”
Holly leapt to her feet. “Well, plans can change, and with the depth of snow now lying on the ground, I think all travel should be cancelled. Did anyone ever tell you that you are a stubborn and pompous man?” With that barb thrown, she stormed out.
CHAPTER11
After refusing dinner that evening and taking her supper in her room, the last thing she expected to see was Gregory appearing in her bedchamber in his nightshirt.
“We have unfinished business,” he stated firmly, closing the door behind him.
Holly was reading, propped up on fluffy white pillows and was not at all pleased to see him.
“I think we have both said all that we needed to. I don’t wish to argue before we settle down to sleep,” she responded frostily.
He ignored her and came to sit upon the edge of the bed.
“I thought about your remarks, at least the sensible reasoning element of our conversation and I wish to address some of your comments.”
She squirmed, remembering some of the less than flattering observations she’d made earlier in the day.
“First of all, I am making a rule that whatever disagreements we may have during the day, we leave them outside the bedroom door when we retire. I did not like eating my dinner alone this evening and I will not countenance you sulking in your room every time we disagree. You will join me for meals unless you are indisposed, and if I hear that you are unwell then I shall check on your welfare. If I should find you are being less than honest with me, then I will put you across my knee, and despite your earlier outburst about enjoying a spanking, I shall endeavour to ensure you take no pleasure from my punishment and I’ll be more than happy to show you the difference between a quick smacked bottom and an actual spanking. Am I clear so far?”
Stilled by his words, heat travelled rapidly from her neck to her cheeks. With a dry mouth, all she could do was nod.
“Good. Moving on to the subject of my daughters: I accept that you are doing all that you can to make them happy, however, I removed the family portrait from the nursery after Libby began to have dreadful nightmares. She awoke the household with her screams, and I thought it might help her to adjust to her mother’s loss if the painting were removed,” he explained.
“Do you know what her dreams are about?” she asked.
“No, but they are obviously to do with her mother’s death.”
“Yes, they are, and they are heartbreakingly cruel—"
“You mean you know the subject of Libby’s dreams?” he interrupted; his gaze intense.
“Why, yes. Libby has been having terrible nightmares about her mother being trapped, buried alive in her coffin and crying for help,” she elucidated.
Gregory looked wretched by her shocking disclosure.
“Oh, my poor little girl,” he muttered.
“Did she actually witness her mother laid to rest in her coffin?” Holly asked.
“No, no, I kept the girls away, I did not wish them to see her. It was nailed shut because of the baby…”
“Baby?”
“Yes, Bunty died in childbirth, and our son was stillborn. They were buried together, the baby cradled in his mother’s arms.” In obvious distress, he ran a hand over his face.
Horrified by this sad revelation, Holly stretched out her hand to cover his. “Dearest Gregory, I am so very sorry.”
