Page 21 of A Shop Girl’s Christmas (Pennington’s Department Store #3)

A deep, dark fury ignited inside Stephen as he saw the shame in Cornelia’s eyes. The thought that a man – any man – might raise his hand to her. To hurt her in even the slightest way…

He knew all too well how spousal abuse could go from bad to worse. He’d seen cases of it over and over again. Violence permeated cities, towns and villages. Assault. Battery. Murder. Images of Detective Walker, Hettie and Fay surged his mind, their bloodied and battered bodies like blurred tattoos on his brain. Sometimes, the entire world felt like a vile and uninhabitable place. The notion that Cornelia had suffered such viciousness behind closed doors, in the supposed sanctity of marriage, infuriated him.

He lowered his coffee and slowly slid his hands from the table to clench them in his lap. ‘When did this first start?’

Her throat moved as she swallowed, her beautiful blue eyes fretful. ‘Quite a long time into our marriage.’

‘When he started seeing this woman?’

She swallowed again and nodded. ‘I think so. Yes.’

‘I see.’ He briefly closed his eyes and took a long, calming breath before opening them again. ‘And he took his frustrations out on you?’

She picked up her tea and sipped, the china clattering lightly as she returned the cup to its saucer. ‘That’s the conclusion I came to a while ago. The more he saw of his lover, the more he resented me. We had another … scuffle one afternoon while the children were at school. That’s when he told me, shouted at me, that he’d taken a lover.’

‘And your reaction?’

A flush stained her cheeks as she looked to the table. ‘I demanded he stopped seeing whoever she was immediately. He laughed, and I insisted a second time.’

‘And?’

She lifted her eyes. ‘And he stormed off, came back later, assuring me it was over with no further explanation or elaboration.’

‘Did he apologise?’

She shook her head.

Bastard. Stephen clenched his jaw as a strong urge made him burn to take her in his arms, comfort her, while all the time plotting a way to find her son of a bitch husband. He couldn’t afford to care this deeply, or so quickly. What did it say about his feelings for her? What did it say about how badly he was failing in his mission to live a quiet life away from crime and punishment until he heard more from Inspector King and the Board’s investigations?

Yet the idea of having a woman like Cornelia, beautiful, strong and loving, only to squander her devotion made him sick to his stomach.

A dangerous desire for retribution swelled inside him. Every time he saw a case of domestic abuse, he found himself wanting to string up the husband, brother or son involved.

He forced his focus back to the here and now. He could not turn away from her. Was she not in need of his help even more than Joseph Carter? Her pain was being played out now, whereas Carter’s was already years old, with no promise of a conclusion. Cornelia’s court case was a different situation entirely. She must win both her divorce and her children.

He sipped his coffee. ‘Did he ever hit your children?’

Her eyes widened with defensiveness. ‘Never. If he had, I can’t tell you what I would have been capable of. But just because he controlled himself with the children doesn’t mean I’ll risk him gaining full custody and having them live with him and his wife-to-be. All too soon, Alfred and Francis will encroach on David’s desire to do what he loves.’

‘Which is?’

‘Courting. Spending money. Showing off. Anything and everything that feeds his ego and in some way elevates his position in society.’

Stephen considered her as his temper cooled to a low thrum deep in his stomach.

He leaned forward and slid his cake to one side, his appetite gone. ‘Have you told your lawyer about your husband’s physical treatment of you?’

She shook her head.

Stephen frowned but kept his voice purposefully gentle. He blamed her for nothing. ‘Why not?’

Tears glazed her eyes. ‘Shame. Fear. So many things have prevented me from sharing what was happening with anyone, let alone a lawyer.’

He drew in a long breath and released it, hating that anyone – especially a man meant to love her – should make her feel so afraid. ‘Then you must tell him. It will be difficult to have your personal life made public, but it’s imperative any threatening behaviour, any violent or mental anguish you’ve suffered as a result of your husband’s actions, is heard in court. The judge needs to know you asked your husband to end his affair and he lied when he said that he had. That will be pivotal in the decision of whether or not to grant the divorce. Probably even more so when deciding who has custody over Alfred and Francis. If you can show you were repeatedly betrayed and that he raised his hand many times to you, it will be to your advantage.’

Her face had paled, and her eyes were sadder than ever. His heart twisted with sympathy.

She lowered her gaze. ‘This will hurt Lawrence so much.’

‘Lawrence?’

‘My brother.’ She lifted her eyes. ‘He’s married to Esther, Pennington’s head window dresser. She’s good friends with Elizabeth Pennington. I’m sure she’d never divulge details of my personal life, but I’d die of shame if Miss Pennington were to discover how weak I’ve been.’

‘Hey.’ He gently grasped her hand. ‘You aren’t weak. You left him, did you not? You took your children to a safe place and filed for divorce. You are strong, Cornelia, and you’ll need to be even stronger in the next few days.’

‘Two days.’ Tears glinted in her eyes. ‘The hearing is on Friday.’

Stephen gave a curt nod. ‘And you’ll be ready. I advise you to telephone or visit your lawyer this afternoon and insist he speak with you. Tell him everything you’ve told me and, I think, something else.’

‘Something else?’ Her brow creased. ‘But I don’t have anything else.’

‘Yes, you do.’

‘Such as?’

‘You were forced to leave the familial home.’ Adrenaline swept through him. ‘The fact you live with your brother now and haven’t taken your children somewhere where they might be at risk will be considered. Instead, you live with a respected and wealthy hotel owner and his family. Your children are safe and, I assume, attend a good school. On top of that, you are not demanding ludicrous amounts of money from your husband but have sought employment and are earning money of your own. I think the judge will look favourably on your actions and decisions.’

Hope sparked in her eyes and a small smile curved her pretty lips. ‘Do you really think so?’

‘I know so. The points your lawyer must press are, one, you gave your husband the chance to mend his ways. Two, you were physically attacked and verbally slandered and, three, you were forced to leave the family home with your children because his conduct continued, despite his assertion the affair was over.’

‘Well, all three of those points are entirely true.’ Her smile widened, but the worry in her eyes remained. ‘Stephen, thank you.’

‘There’s nothing to thank me for. You have already done right by yourself and your children in every way. A judge will see that, I’m sure.’

She picked up her tea and drank

Stephen stared at her bowed head. Despite his confidence in everything he had said to her, he remained worried. Time after time, he’d seen judges rule in favour of abusive and neglectful husbands. Rule that men alone held the knowledge of how a household ought to be governed. Consideration was rarely given to the children’s wishes, or their mother’s love for them.

An unexpected longing to kiss her rose inside him. He quickly looked down at his coffee. He had no right to desire her. His ex-fiancée had broken off their engagement after realising she could not live as a constable’s wife. He’d taken a few lovers since, but they too had concluded his work was either too time-consuming or dangerous. He was damaged. Afraid and angry. And in no way suitable as a romantic partner. Cornelia needed a decent man. A man she could be proud of after everything she’d been through. Maybe one day he would be different, but he was loath to believe it quite yet.

Responsibility pressed down on him.

He’d already trod the path of no return by agreeing to investigate the murder of Joseph Carter’s wife. The last thing he wanted was to hurt Cornelia, if she should ever come to return the stirrings of fondness that swirled inside him.

Building a new life with her children was her priority. As it should be. She was as scarred as he was. But whereas he’d failed in his decision-making, every choice she’d made had been brave and conscientious. She was a woman who deserved so much more than a man like him.

Her cup clattered against its saucer, and he raised his eyes to hers.

She smiled. ‘Now, there’s something else I need to ask you.’

‘Oh?’

‘Are you helping Joseph Carter and Elizabeth Pennington with something?’

Disappointment dropped like lead into his stomach and his defences slammed into place. Had Carter shared that knowledge with her? Or was it Elizabeth Pennington? ‘Why would you ask?’

Her smile dissolved as she blushed. ‘As I said, Esther is my sister-in-law and very good friends with Elizabeth. Esther is expecting a child and on strict bed rest. She will not be returning to Pennington’s and is deeply concerned by something Joseph and Elizabeth are struggling with. She’s aware you worked for Scotland Yard and that Elizabeth and Mr Carter have spoken to you. If you’ve agreed to help them, I’d like to assist in any way I can. I’ve promised Esther I will support her friends in her confinement. Please, Stephen, let me help you.’

‘Cornelia…’ He clenched his jaw. ‘You cannot get involved.’

‘I know the gravity of what Mr Carter and Elizabeth are dealing with and the situation is just as pressing as my divorce. They deserve peace the same as anyone else, don’t they?’

A horrible self-loathing pressed down on him. Not everyone in this world deserves peace. ‘And how, exactly, do you think you could help?’

‘I’m not entirely sure, but with your instruction, I would willingly do—’

‘Stop.’ He lowered his voice. ‘Investigating a crime is not a pastime. It’s dangerous. Potentially fatal. Don’t you think you have enough to deal with right now without getting involved in something that could land you in new trouble?’

Her cheeks darkened and the excited fervour faded from her eyes, making Stephen want to stand and leave, lest he spoke the apology and words of comfort battling with his conscience.

She glanced about her. ‘I just thought—’

‘What Joseph Carter and his wife are struggling with is dangerous. I want you to stay well away. All they think I am doing at the moment is looking at what avenues they’ve already pursued. I won’t tell either of them anything, unless it is solid evidence that will lead to finding his first wife’s killer. It’s imperative Carter’s hopes aren’t raised without just cause. Do you understand?’

She stared at him, as a slow, fiery passion darkened her eyes. ‘Yes.’

‘Good.’

‘But I am not afraid, nor am I someone to shrink away from anything life might throw at me. I’m without a husband whose care and protection I once thought I could rely on. If I can help you, Esther, Elizabeth or Mr Carter as they’ve helped me, I will. Because of you there’s every chance I will keep Alfred and Francis. Because of Esther, Elizabeth and Mr Carter, there is every chance I’ll have a future where I can provide for my children and be independent and free to pursue the life I want. I owe you all. Do you not see that?’

He shook his head. She could not get involved with his investigation. How would he ever recover if she was hurt or worse? ‘The nature of Mr Carter and Miss Pennington’s troubles is criminal. I’ve not even promised I will help.’

‘So, they assume you are merely thinking about helping them?’

‘Yes.’

Finding it difficult to look at her and not weaken, Stephen stared across the shop.

‘But you’ve already done far more than they think, have you not?’

He snapped his gaze to hers. ‘For the love of God, Cornelia. Leave it be.’

‘Stephen, please. I can speak in confidence to Elizabeth and reassure Esther her friend is supported. If you’d prefer Joseph not to know you are investigating his first wife’s murder, then I will honour that.’

Stephen withdrew his wallet and tossed a note onto the table. ‘Here. Now, enough of this. You need to stay away from anything concerning Joseph Carter. I mean it.’

He stormed from the tea shop, leaving her alone and hating himself.