Page 11 of A Shop Girl’s Christmas (Pennington’s Department Store #3)

Cornelia walked slowly towards her brother’s home as the conversation between Stephen Gower and Elizabeth Pennington replayed over and over in her mind.

There had been something in Mr Gower’s changing expression that had pulled at her. Made her further extend her hand in friendship. He’d looked so defensive and angry with Elizabeth, and then when Cornelia had spoken with him, he’d looked vulnerable and confused. She understood those mix of emotions only too well. Maybe they could find their feet together. Goodness knows, she’d appreciate seeing a friendly face whenever she came to work.

She’d overheard Elizabeth say he’d worked for the constabulary in London. This new information had struck Cornelia’s interest immediately. Could it mean Mr Gower was familiar with the goings-on of court cases? Maybe he could help her prepare for her hearing at the end of the week?

Fear over the potential loss of her children haunted her every thought and a horrible premonition that David and his lawyer would succeed in tying her in knots had kept Cornelia tossing and turning night after night.

Her heart lay heavy in her chest as she walked, her fingers slowly turning numb in the steadily decreasing temperatures. A young family passed her and Cornelia lingered over their two small children as a treacherous tear slipped down her cheek. Were they going to dinner somewhere fancy? Maybe a show? She had once thought she and David would be happy, living their lives and becoming closer over time, spending time together as every family should.

She had been a fool.

Although their eventual marriage had been assumed since they were children by her parents and David’s, both she and David had entered into it willingly. Having known each other for years, their parents’ lands touching one another’s, Cornelia had been confident that their fondness would blossom into love.

When the boys were born, she and David had been delighted, both feeling their family complete.

Until David realised the commitment expected of a father. That his and Cornelia’s days of hosting dinners, going on holiday on a whim or seeing shows and plays were no longer what she wanted. Once that was clear, he’d found amusement elsewhere.

For a long time, she’d assume he was frequenting a gentleman’s club, meeting up with other landowners once his father started passing more and more responsibility for the Parker estates onto him.

But no, he had undoubtedly been unfaithful to Cornelia for years before he supposedly had his heart taken by Sophie Hughes.

Discovery of his betrayals had been a strain from the beginning.

Cornelia believed in loyalty, care and commitment. His philandering had been a knife in her chest that had only dug deeper as time wore on, until there was nothing between them but resentment and distrust.

The marriage was over long before it had come to divorce.

The front door of the house beside her opened and a laughing couple burst onto the pavement, the tinkling of piano keys and laughter echoing from the within as they embraced. Cornelia swallowed the lump in her throat. Would she ever find such happiness in a man’s arms?

She looked ahead and quickened her pace, drawing forth every ounce of her inner strength.

She had to find a way to arm herself. To build a fortress around her weaknesses and stand firm and confident in front of the judge. David had not been a husband to her for many years, a father even less so in many ways. She would not lose the children to him. She couldn’t.

Stephen Gower could help her, she was certain of it. She would do all she could to deepen their burgeoning friendship in the next day or two, bury her shame and tell him her situation.

He would help her, wouldn’t he? Of course, he would.

Reaching the house, she put the key in the lock and stepped inside. Today was one of the two days each week that she worked a ten-hour shift at Pennington’s, and she was exhausted.

It was almost eight o’clock in the evening, but childish screeches and giggles emanated from the drawing room upstairs. Instead of the sounds making her want to run and hide under her blankets and sink into blissful oblivion, she absorbed her children’s happiness like oxygen. As long as they remained in her care, everything would be fine. She unpinned her hat, somewhat dampened by the rain, and set it on the side table in the hallway.

Francis’s antics at school had been troubling, and she’d immediately written to David, asking that he visit the boys or at least telephone, praying some connection with his father might ease Francis’s clearly unsettled state.

That had been three days ago, and she’d heard nothing.

A dark and ugly cloud of resentment came over her and Cornelia immediately fought against it. She would not allow David to infiltrate the boys’ happiness this evening. David was responsible for his relationship with their sons and, even though she did not want him winning full custody, she hoped he had a genuine wish to remain a part of their lives. If he proved to her he did, then she would be open to visitation and the boys staying with him over the holidays… albeit the mere thought of Sophie Hughes playing a part in their family irked Cornelia to the bone.

Charles emerged from the direction of the kitchen and strode along the hallway, his face unusually grave. ‘Miss Cornelia. Welcome home. Can I help you with your coat?’

‘Good evening, Charles. Please.’ She sighed. ‘It’s still drizzling out there. I’m yearning for a white Christmas, as I do every year, but I’m sure I’ll be disappointed once again.’ She frowned as he took her coat. He seemed to be avoiding her gaze, hesitant, as though he had something difficult to say. ‘Is everything all right?’

Finally, he looked at her. ‘I think it best you go into the parlour, Miss. There has been an… incident.’

Cornelia glanced along the hallway. ‘An incident? What has happened?’

‘Please…’ He extended his hand in the direction of the parlour. ‘It will best for your brother to explain.’

She nodded and quickly walked away, her heart thundering. Charles had looked so sombre, but it couldn’t be anything to do with the children whose laughter still filtered downstairs. Was it Esther?

Opening the parlour door, she entered and stopped.

Esther trembled where she sat on the sofa, Lawrence holding a cup and saucer towards her and staring at his wife with concern, his jaw tight. The atmosphere was strained with something Cornelia couldn’t put her finger on, but whatever it was had raised every hair on her body.

Stepping farther into the room, she gently cleared her throat. ‘Lawrence?’

He started and turned, his face pale with an anger she hadn’t seen in him since they’d lived at Culford Manor.

Cornelia swallowed and glanced at Esther, who continued to stare at a spot on the carpet, her shoulders shaking. She looked to Lawrence. ‘What has happened?’

‘Esther was manhandled by some ruffian as she walked home from Pennington’s.’

‘What?’ Cornelia rushed to Esther and knelt down in front of her, she placed her hand on Esther’s cheek. ‘My darling, are you all right?’

Esther merely nodded and Cornelia turned to Lawrence. ‘What happened?’

‘He tried to grab her, but she screamed and fought him off.’ He glanced at Esther, his face mottled red with suppressed rage. ‘And now she has pains.’

‘The baby? Have you telephoned for the doctor? The constabulary?’

‘Absolutely no police.’

The low, firm tone of Esther’s words sent a jolt of shock through Cornelia. Esther’s eyes were rimmed red but wide and lit with a fire that broached little argument. Her ashen cheeks and trembling body belied the firmness in her tone.

‘Esther…’ Cornelia took her sister-in-law’s hand, and as Lawrence vacated his seat, heading for the drinks cabinet, Cornelia sat beside Esther. ‘This man is clearly dangerous. We have to tell the—’

‘He was not dangerous. He was inebriated and thought himself extremely amusing.’ Esther grimaced and pressed her hand to her stomach, her breaths a little harder. ‘The doctor is on his way. I will be perfectly all right.’ She closed her eyes and Cornelia held tight to her hand as she glanced across the room at Lawrence.

His knuckles were white around his filled glass. ‘I can’t let him get away with this, Esther. I won’t.’

‘You will. I don’t want this pursued any further.’ She resolutely held her husband’s gaze. ‘That is my decision. All that matters now is the baby and what the doctor says. I will not have you waste another moment thinking of the man who nudged me.’

‘Nudged you?’ Lawrence voice was incredulous. ‘The man grabbed your arms, pushed you against a wall, for crying out loud. If I ever find him, I’ll string him up by his damn ba—’

‘Lawrence, enough.’ Cornelia stared at Esther’s turned cheek, wondering what on earth could be going through her mind in that moment. Esther wanted this baby so much. If anything should happen as a result… ‘Esther, what happens next is entirely up to you.’ She shot a glare at Lawrence before facing Esther once more. ‘The most important thing is you remain calm and only think of the baby.’

‘Then tell that to your brother.’

Cornelia stood and walked to Lawrence, gently gripping his arm. ‘This isn’t about you. It’s about Esther. Right now, you have to do as she asks.’

‘How in God’s name do you expect me to stand by and let this hooligan get away with touching my wife? Frightening and molesting her?’

Cornelia tightened her grip. ‘Because that is what Esther wants. He’s gone, but the baby is here, Lawrence. That’s it. At least, for now.’

Their gazes locked as Cornelia’s pulse raced. What if Esther had been assaulted? Or killed? The recent murder of the poor woman by the slums rose in her mind and she squeezed her eyes shut. It didn’t bear thinking about, but it was clear that all Lawrence could do for the time being was exactly as Esther asked.

The doctor was on his way. All would be well.

Slowly, Lawrence’s arm slackened under her fingers and he nodded. ‘So be it. For now.’

He drew away and resumed his seat beside Esther, sliding his arm around her shoulders and pulling her close.

Thinking it for the best to leave them alone, Cornelia quietly left the room and pulled the door shut.

The noise from the nursery had quieted somewhat, but the sounds of the children’s voices soothed her shaken nerves. She stepped towards the stairs, suddenly desperate to embrace Alfred and Francis. They had all come together as a family. She, Lawrence, Rose, Nathaniel, Alfred, Francis… and Esther, who, Cornelia believed, was becoming a solid lynchpin who would keep them all together, come what may. So, when Esther was weakened, Cornelia would be strong.

Once upstairs, she pushed open the drawing room door. The children, except for Francis, immediately abandoned their play with the army of toy soldiers and horses strewn across the carpet and enveloped her in a tangle of arms around her legs and waist. Their soft innocent smell and chattering greetings instantly warmed her.

She hugged them back, her relief wavering as she stared at Francis over the other children’s heads. ‘Well, that’s the sort of welcome a mother and aunt should receive every time she returns from work.’ Her youngest son sat alone on the carpet, his gaze intent on a toy carriage. Cornelia straightened, the children’s embraces easing away as they returned to their play. ‘Francis? Have you a hug for me?’

Francis pushed to his feet and, with his gaze on the carpet, approached Cornelia and tentatively put his arms around her. ‘Welcome home, Mama.’

Tears pricked her eyes as she pulled him close. ‘I hope you’ve had a good evening, my love?’

He merely nodded before extracting himself and returning to the carpet. Her heart sank. Was her youngest son’s unhappiness her fault? Should she have continued to accept David’s affair with Sophie Hughes forever?

She swallowed and drew forth her determination. No, she should not. What kind of lesson would she be teaching her children if they grew up to think it acceptable to treat their wives in the same way? She had discovered the affair a long time ago and, somehow, she’d allowed David to convince her his adulterous liaison with Sophie Hughes was over.

So many lies. So much betrayal and heartbreak.

Actions spoke louder than words and her boys would understand that David’s behaviour should never be tolerated in a marriage.

She took a seat next to Helen. ‘Esther and Lawrence are waiting for the doctor to arrive.’

‘It’s so terrible.’ Helen lowered her voice. ‘I have been trying my best to keep the children amused and out of the way, but they know something’s wrong. Is the mistress still having pains?’

‘Yes, but I’m sure she’ll be perfectly all right.’

‘All Mrs Culford was fretting over earlier was the upcoming ball she and the master are arranging at The Phoenix. She shouldn’t be worry over such things now. Is there anything I can do to help with that, do you think?’

Cornelia watched the children. ‘You already do more than enough. I will see what I can do to help.’ She faced Helen again. ‘Raising funds for the suffragists is so important to Esther, and she’s even involving the suffragettes to unify the Cause. No matter the women’s chosen methods of campaigning, their goal of securing the vote is the same. Do you know the date Esther and Lawrence are planning to hold the ball? I’m afraid I haven’t asked as many questions about it as I should have.’

‘The sixteenth, Miss.’

‘I see. Then once Esther has rested for the night, I will speak to her in the morning. Lawrence is an active member of the Men’s League fighting for the vote and his owning The Phoenix hotel makes him a solid and influential figure around town. I’m sure, between us, we can ensure the ball goes ahead as planned.’ She smiled encouragingly at Helen even as Stephen Gower – Sergeant Stephen Gower – filled her thoughts once more. With Esther’s attack, she had more reason than ever to befriend him. ‘Do you happen to know if Esther has invited any of the staff from Pennington’s to the ball?’

‘Yes, I believe so. Elizabeth Pennington and her husband will most certainly be there. I think Mrs Culford’s colleague, Amelia Wakefield, was mentioned and a number of others. There will be plenty of people there you’re acquainted with.’

‘Good. The most important thing is we ensure the ball is a success. We cannot let Esther down.’

‘I completely agree.’

Cornelia stared towards the children again. Despite tonight’s assault on Esther, too many people had been invited to the ball for it to be cancelled and surely one more person attending wouldn’t affect any plans already in place? She would extend an invitation to Mr Gower herself. Although, it was probably for the best that she kept her intentions from Lawrence for the time being. Mr Gower had come in and out of her mind all day, but it would be a mistake to evoke Lawrence’s and Esther’s suspicions about Cornelia’s interest in him.