“Girls, form a tidy line,” their father ordered.
As the nanny stepped aside, the three children obediently queued. Holly met their wan faces. The tallest girl stepped forward and curtsied to her.
“Welcome. I am Libby and I am nine,” she said. She was followed by the middle girl who gave Holly the same sentence informing her that she was seven and called Kitty. The smallest child beamed up at Holly.
“I’s is Clemmy and I’s is five. Are you going to be our new mama?” she asked.
“Clementine!” her father rebuked.
The child’s eyes brimmed with sudden tears; she stuck her thumb in her mouth and sucked furiously.
Holly swivelled towards Gregory. “Why don’t you and Nanny both leave us ladies alone for a little while in order for us to become better acquainted?” she suggested.
“There is no need for that, my dear. I have explained to the girls that you will not be replacing their mama. Nanny, please take the girls back up to the schoolroom. They have lessons to attend.”
Fury flooded Holly’s veins.
“Wait! You have presented me with a fait accompli, one that I do not accept. These children are my stepdaughters, and I will take the time to get to know them.”
Gregory ignored her statement. Nanny gathered her charges, directing them from the room.
Holly waited until they had gone then jumped to her feet. She rounded on her husband.
“That was very ill done of you, sir!” she cried, incensed.
He held his hands up. “I know, I know, I should have told you, but your father and I both thought…”
“What, Papa knew that you had children and failed to share that information with me?” she asked, incredulous.
“Yes, we discussed it. I need a son and heir…”
“Oh, this is unbelievable. You, sir, are unbelievable!”
“Now then, my dear, don’t get upset…”
Holly interrupted him. “Upset… Upset? I am livid, furious! How could you treat your daughters this way and how could you treat me with so little regard? Just because you paid my father’s debts does not give you the right to treat me so shabbily.” She moved swiftly to the door.
He grunted. She waited for him to speak. He remained silent, but she heard the unspoken words as if he’d yelled at her. He did have the right. She was bought and paid for, and he now legally owned her. She was his to do with as he wished, and no amount of foot stamping on her part would alter the fact.
“I cannot discuss this with you at the moment. I shall see you later,” she said huffily and swept from the room, slamming the door behind her before he could see the tears of anger brimming in her eyes.
A footman carrying a tray of silver crossed the hallway in front of her on his way to the dining room, making preparation for luncheon. Hastily, she brushed away the moisture from her cheeks.
“Which direction do I take for the nursery?” she asked, keeping her face averted.
“I will show you, milady, just let me set this down first.”
She waited until he returned.
“What is your name?” she questioned.
“John, milady.”
“Thank you, John. Have you been here very long?”
“About seven years,” he told her.
“Have the children been wearing black since their mother died?”
“Yes’m, and the master, too—that is up until he came back with you, milady.”
“I see…” she said thoughtfully.
After that, conversation ceased as they ascended stairway after stairway until they reached the third floor and the girls’ voices bubbled out. They appeared to be chanting the catechism.
John opened a door into a schoolroom. Holly thanked him and stepped inside. The girls stared at her, but her focus was on the tall governess standing in front of the blackboard.
“Can I help you?” The woman smiled.
“I am Lady Caulderbury, the girls’ new stepmother. I wish to spend the rest of the day getting to know them. I hope you will understand that I have to cancel today’s lessons, Miss…?” She spoke as she had heard her mother speak, using an authority beyond her years.
“Of course, milady, the girls will enjoy the break. I fear working six days a week is too much for them. At their age they need time for relaxation. I am Miss Evesham, at your service, milady.” She curtsied.
Holly turned to face the girls and beamed at them. They reminded her of her young stepsisters, being of similar age.
“Come along then,” she said, holding the door wide.
The children turned to their governess for permission. The teacher nodded her assent. The girls rushed over to gather around Holly.
“Where are we going?” Libby enquired.
“First of all, we are going to find you some normal clothes. The time for mourning is long past.”
“Papa said we must wear black to honour our mama,” Kitty explained, sounding dubious.
“You have worn black longer than most adults do for the mourning period. I think it is time for a change. You can remember your mother in so many happier ways, which I shall share with you. Now where are your clothes kept?” she asked.
“Nanny is in charge of what we wear,” Libby stated.
“Well then, why don’t you three run along and explain to Nanny that I am coming to discuss your wardrobe with her. Meanwhile, I shall have a quiet word with Miss Evesham.” She watched as the girls scuttled away then turned back into the schoolroom, closing the door behind her.
“I wondered if you would mind if I asked you to postpone the girls’ education for a time, just until after Christmas. I want them to have a happy Christmas and start the New Year afresh, leaving some of their grief behind them,” she began.
The governess nodded amiably.
“I think that would be a splendid idea, but what about his lordship? He decreed that the girls must be kept busy from dawn to dusk so they would not dwell upon their mother’s death.”
“I will speak with him, never fear, but it is high time the children had some gaiety back in their lives.”
“Oh, my lady, I could not agree with you more!”
Holly was pleased. “Good. Well, I cannot be with them all the time so I propose that you teach them some carols and perhaps one particular one they like which they could sing for our guests on Christmas Eve.”
Miss Evesham clapped enthusiastically.
“I have been teaching Libby the pianoforte, she could also learn to play the carol.”
“That would be lovely, and if she feels overwhelmed, then I, too, will play in her stead, as her standby.”
The two young women smiled at one another. Holly was pleased to find herself in tune with the governess.
“We have a puppet theatre for hand puppets, perhaps a play as well?”
“Why, yes, that is a very good idea. What about putting on a nativity play? The girls can sew their own puppet characters. My maid, Matilda, can help them with that, she is a wonderful seamstress,” Holly suggested. “I also want to introduce a Christmas tree so they can make things to decorate that as well,” she added.
“I saw a picture of the royal family gathered about a fir tree in a magazine a couple of years back, but I have never actually seen one,” Miss Evesham gushed excitedly.
“Have the children not had one before?” Holly asked.
“Not as far as I know,” Miss Evesham answered. “Might I incorporate some teaching around the nativity story? I was thinking about the gifts the wise men brought to baby Jesus and the reasons behind the gifts, where they came from, and the distances they had travelled. Oh, the possibilities for learning are endless.”
Holly was impressed by the governess’s passion for educating.
“Of course, just so long as it is fun for the girls,” she reiterated.
“Libby soaks up knowledge like a sponge. She is always asking questions,” Miss Evesham replied.
“Tell me, do you know the substance of
her nightmares?” Holly asked.
“They are dreadful for the child.” The governess lowered her voice. “She dreams that her mother wakes inside her coffin and is screaming to be let out,” she confided.
Holly sucked in a horrified breath.
“Oh my, poor Libby, that is horrible. Does her father know of this?” Immediately the question left her lips, Holly knew she should not have enquired. She was the mistress of this house, and one did not ask a servant such a thing.
“I am not certain that he is aware, no,” Miss Evesham said seriously, thus endearing herself even more to Holly and giving her the confidence to query the governess’s age.
“I will be twenty-two next birthday, milady,” she said.
Holly placed her hand on the young woman’s arm.
“I am so glad the girls have you, and hopefully, in time, my own children will come under your guidance, too,” Holly told her.
Miss Evesham blushed. “I shall do my best to fulfil your trust in me, Lady Caulderbury,” she said, sinking into a curtsy.
“Thank you, and you must feel free to come to me whenever there is something that concerns you regarding the children,” Holly impressed. “Do you eat with the family? I should think it is near luncheon.”
“No, I like to eat with the girls in the nursery. Nanny is wonderful, but she does tend to baby them so; I should like to continue eating with them if it pleases you?” Miss Evesham replied.
“Of course, but do let me know if you wish to join us downstairs at any time. I think it would be a good idea to introduce a family meal once a week to the girls. Perhaps you and they could join us on a Sunday after church, and on our return we can repair to the drawing room and play a game or two before we eat together,” Holly suggested.
“That sounds an admirable plan, thank you, milady.” Miss Evesham was positively beaming.
Holly took her leave and headed into the nursery where she found the girls seated about a table waiting for their luncheon to arrive. She asked Nanny to sort out the girls’ wardrobe during the afternoon and assured them all she would return later on to assist. As she walked away, her gaze fell on a rectangular patch of light wallpaper where a large picture had obviously been recently removed. Doing an about turn, Holly went back and asked Nanny what had hung there. She was shaken to hear that Gregory had a painting of the family removed into storage after his wife’s death. She was flabbergasted. How could he be so cruel?
Holly left them to enjoy their meal and made her way downstairs in search of her husband. She found him pacing the hallway outside the dining room, obviously waiting for her.
Chapter 10
“Has the gong been struck for luncheon already?” she asked, stepping from the stairway onto the parquetry floor.
“No, luncheon is always at one,” Gregory replied, crossing the hall to her. “I have been looking for you. Can you come into my study, please? There is a conversation we need to have.”
“Very well,” she answered. She had her own piece to say.
Once they were seated either side of the fire, they both spoke at once.
“After you,” he insisted.
“If I had asked you directly whether you had any children, would you have told me?” She asked the question that had been uppermost in her mind since meeting the girls.
“Of course… To be honest, I didn’t want you to feel that if you married me you would be forced to become a matron long before your time. I discussed this with Oscar, and he agreed that it might be better for you not to know about the girls until after we were married. I apologise for not telling you and for last night.”
“Last night?” she queried.
“I feel bad about misleading you and then smacking you.”
She flushed.
“Oh, yes, well, no harm done, your apology is accepted,” she said graciously.
“I was so intent on my plan for you to meet the girls in the drawing room with their nanny so that I could enforce my message that they wouldn’t be a bother to you. That is the reason I behaved unjustly. Please forgive me.”
He sounded so contrite, she nodded, eager to put the misunderstanding behind them.
“About the girls, Gregory. I have some ideas that might help to help cheer them up…”
He interrupted.
“Cheer them up? What an expression! My children have lost their mother, Holly, not some…some pet!”
“I am fully aware of that, but they are suffering unnecessarily. Removing the portrait of their mother from the nursery, for instance, was cruel.”
“I…” he began, but Holly ignored his interruption. She was livid and needed to get the complaint off her chest.
“They have been left in deepest mourning for two years. Two years, Gregory. These are children—they need fresh air, laughter, and the love of their father, which seems to me to be eminently lacking. What they do not need is to be forced to wear black and given never-ending lessons with no relaxation and no affection, save from the paid staff.” She ran out of breath.
Gregory rose to his feet and towered over her.
“These are not your concerns,” he said, sounding stiff.
“Well, since they don’t seem to be yours either, I am making them mine,” she snapped.
“You are little more than a child yourself and will do as you are bloody well told,” he bellowed.
“Or what, you’ll smack me again?” she mocked.
“Yes! Dammit, but this time I shall take you over my knee, and it will be a thorough punishment spanking, not a love tap like the one you received last night!”
He sounded so smugly triumphant that she rose to her feet and marched to the doorway where she turned and flashed him a false smile.
“Go ahead and spank me then, because actually, it wouldn’t be a punishment at all. I rather liked the smack you dealt me, so there!”
Holly felt inordinately proud of herself because she managed to control her temper and not slam the door. The feeling that she had actually exited rather regally, even closing the door softly, made her feel superior. However, she was unable to maintain her composure and spun about, sticking out her tongue at the solid wooden door.
“Put that in your pipe and smoke it, my lord!” she muttered, stomping over to the dining room.
As she passed the gong, she just couldn’t resist. Picking up the striker, she swung back her arm and brought it to bear several times against the brass hanging plate. It reverberated satisfactorily loud with every bong she struck, echoing discordantly around the cavernous hallway.
Gregory wrenched open the study door and stormed into the hall.
“Stop that, you little hoyden,” he snarled, furious.
Holly glared at him, held his gaze, and defiantly struck one last resounding bong. She threw the striker onto the floor, where it clattered at his feet. Tossing her head, she spun about and marched into the dining room. He went to retrieve the gong striker, cursing under his breath.
She sashayed past, her nose in the air. Her pert backside swayed before him. Gregory itched to land a few well-deserved slaps on her insolent bottom. It was quite evident to him that his new bride was little more than a child and one given to temper tantrums.
Luncheon was an uncomfortable affair. His wife either goaded him or ignored him. By the end of the meat course, he’d had quite enough of her barbed remarks and sly comments. He excused himself, leaving her sitting alone at the table.
He went via the boot room where he donned a great coat and hat. He needed some air and decided to find out how the snow had discomforted his tenants. He gave a derisive snort at the thought that the chill outside was barely colder than the one inside his house.
Holly watched her husband leave. She was surprised to find that instead of satisfaction at their bitter exchange, she felt disappointed and crestfallen. She knew she’d behaved childishly after leaving his study, but he hadn’t listened to her when she’d spoken sensibly, and so she had reverted to childish tactics in order
to annoy him, knowing it was not well done of her. Holly sighed. Her mother was so right; she tended to let her temper get the better of her.
Well, there was no time to mope. She wanted to get back up to the nursery and begin helping her stepdaughters to turn over a much happier new leaf.
Kitty and Clemmy immediately looked up and ran to her as she entered the room. Kitty did a pirouette. She was now in a two-piece of matching skirt and fogged top in damson surge over a white blouse. Clemmy’s dress was a warm velvet mid-blue with a white lace collar.
“This was Libby’s outfit, and now it fits me!” Kitty exclaimed, obviously delighted.
“An’ dith was Kithy’s, an’ it fiths me!” Clemmy lisped endearingly.
“You both look lovely!” Holly enthused, her gaze searching the nursery for Libby.
Nanny waved her over. She was seated, a black garment in one hand and a needle and thread in the other.
“Nothing will fit Libby. All her clothes fit Kitty now; she is the age Libby was two years ago, and with Christmas looming, there is no time to have anything made for her. She is very upset,” she added.
“Where is Libby?” Holly asked, glancing about the room.
Nanny pointed to a doorway. Holly found the girl curled up on one of three beds in a large sunny room. Libby held a book in her hand.
“Hello, what are you reading?” she asked, seating herself on the end of the bed.
“The Cricket on the Hearth,” Libby replied, not lifting her eyes from the page.
“Ah, Charles Dickens. I must ask your father to read to us at Christmas. Perhaps A Christmas Carol,” she replied.
“He won’t,” Libby stated flatly.
“We shall see. Libby, I’d like you to come with me to meet my maid, Matilda. She is an excellent seamstress and can alter your mourning clothes, just until we can order you a whole new wardrobe once the snow is gone, after Christmas.”
“I’m reading,” came her stubborn reply.
Once Upon a Christmas Wedding Page 246
