Haunting Grace Read Online Free PDF Page B

refused to meet his look. Her resolve was firmly set. No more talking to portraits, no more confused dreams and definitely no more late night chats, with anyone or anything about ghosts.
    Leaving the kettle to boil, Grace prepared for bed. She draped her fleecy pyjamas over the warm radiator in the room and headed for the shower, leaving the kettle to boil. She was tired and looked forward to snuggling into bed with her book. She had closed it in the square just as Amber, the heroine of the story, had discovered that she was pregnant. The young girl was desperately hoping that Bruce, the hero, would finally ask her to marry him. Grace hoped that Bruce would do the honourable thing, but she doubted he would. Nonetheless, she was looking forward to finding out what was to become of Amber and her baby.
    The warm pyjamas felt soft against her skin as she slid onto the cool cotton sheet and pulled the fluffy duvet up to her chin. I could do with a hot water bottle, she thought, shivering despite the warmth of the pyjamas. She took a sip of the coffee and opened the book. Her eyes blurred and she rubbed them in an attempt to clear the haze. Unable to focus on the words she closed the book. Setting it on the bedside table beside a picture of her daughter - pain suddenly tore at her heart. She longed so much to hold her child and to share the bond that a mother should have with her daughter. With trembling fingers she lifted the photograph to her lips. Her eyes strayed to the portrait in front of her.
    “You wouldn’t understand,” she whispered to him as her eyes filled with tears and, tired of holding them back, she relented to their flow.
     
    She smelt the sweet smokiness of burning wood and heard the gentle crackle of flames in the distance of her dream. The room was in complete darkness but she knew he was there, beside her. She reached out to touch him and felt the curve of his shoulders. He turned and wrapped his arms around her pulling her, into his embrace. Tiny bubbles bounced in the pit of her stomach as she nestled into him, her back curved against his chest, her body pressed against the entire length of him. He reached for her hand and enclosed his large palm over it. His lips brushed against her head lightly as he rested his cheek against the top of her head. Cocooned in his embrace, secure in his arms, her heart safe in his hands, she smiled into darkness.
    “I love you Grace.”
    “I love you too,” she whispered.
    “Please don’t leave me again,” she cried as the dream slipped from her clutch and dawn crushed the magic of the night.
     
    Her eyes flew open and she turned immediately to face the place beside her where he had been. A sick feeling in the pit of her stomach reminded her that she was alone. Of course she was alone. She lived alone. That had been her choice. Sitting up, her eyes once more filled with tears as she looked at the portrait.
    “If you can’t be with me, why are you doing this to me? Please, just go away and let me live my life.”
    Grace jumped as a cold blast of wind howled in through the window. It slammed against the frame and then the window burst open again as another icy blast blew in. Shivering, she slid out of bed and closed the latch on the window.
    “Damn thing, you scared me half to death. How did you get open?”
    Glancing down at the radiator below the window, she bent and turned the thermostat up. The room was cold and she had seen a forecast in yesterday’s paper suggesting that the city was in for a severely cold spell.
    A thin dressing gown lay on the end of the bed; hardly practical for winter use but had been all she could fit in her suitcase at the time. Wrapping it around her she made the decision to spend the day clothes shopping. She wasn’t going to be much use to anyone if she caught her death of cold. The memory of her dream filled her mind as she recalled the glorious warmth and happiness she had felt with the protective arms of Robert Hamilton around