Page 24 of A Shop Girl’s Christmas (Pennington’s Department Store #3)

Cornelia tucked Francis’s bed sheet and blanket more securely under his chin as Alfred climbed into the bed next to his brother. She studied her youngest son as she sat alongside him, a copy of Robert Louis Stevenson’s Treasure Island open in her lap. ‘How are you feeling, darling?’

He blinked, his bright blue eyes indicating that, for now, he was content. ‘Fine.’

‘Just fine?’ Cornelia gently laid her hand on his cheek. ‘Not happy?’

He shrugged his slender shoulders, carefully watching her.

As her love for her sons caused a hopeless ache in her heart, she looked across at Alfred. ‘And you, my love? How are you?’

‘Well, Mama.’

She smiled. ‘Well, that’s good. One out of two isn’t bad.’ She turned to Francis. ‘What can I do to make you happy?’ she asked gently. ‘Is there something special you’d like for Christmas?’

His eyes darkened with the stubborn determination she was becoming all too familiar with. ‘Papa. I want Papa for Christmas.’

The ache in her heart deepened as Cornelia battled to keep her smile in place. ‘Papa has other plans for Christmas, but I’m sure he’ll want to spend some time with you in the New Year.’ She looked to Alfred again. Her eldest son stared back, his expression unreadable. ‘And what about you? What would you like for Christmas?’

‘I keep thinking about the nice time we had with Rose and Nathaniel at Grandmama’s house in the summer.’

Dread unfurled inside her. Alfred couldn’t possibly want to go back to Culford Manor, could he? Back to the childhood home that held such horrific memories of her parents’ mistreatment and abuse towards their children… Lawrence, especially. Her mind reeled as she struggled for an excuse, a reason, why they could not go back. There was not a chance on earth that Lawrence would agree.

She swallowed. ‘Grandmama’s?’

‘Yes. It would be fun to spend Christmas there. We could see Aunt Harriet, go riding and the pond might be frozen, and we can skate.’ His eyes lit with excitement as he scrambled into a sitting position beneath his covers. ‘Wouldn’t that cheer you up, Francis? We could have adventures like they do in Treasure Island . Me, you, Rose and Nathaniel can pretend we’re pirates.’

Cornelia watched Francis as he carefully considered his brother’s suggestion. The wilfulness faded from his eyes, to be replaced by animation. ‘That would be fun.’ He turned to Cornelia, his smile wide. ‘Could we, Mama? Could we go to see Aunt Harriet and the horses?’

Words stuck in Cornelia’s throat at the dire prospect of suggesting to Lawrence that they return to their childhood home for Christmas. He would never agree to spend what should be the happiest, most joyous time of the year in the one place he hated more than any other. Not to mention that the doctor was unlikely to allow Esther to travel to Oxfordshire in her current state of health.

She closed the book in her lap. ‘Well, I could certainly ask Uncle Lawrence and Aunt Esther what they think.’ She walked to a small bookshelf under the bedroom window and placed the book on top. ‘But I can’t make any promises, or that Aunt Esther will be well enough to make the journey. This is the first Christmas since they married. I’m not sure Uncle Lawrence and Aunt Esther will want to spend it in such a big house. They might want a quieter Christmas.’

Alfred’s eyes widened with expectation. ‘But you’ll ask him?’

Cornelia smiled at her sons, her heart heavy. ‘I will, but no promises.’

Alfred grinned.

‘Thank you, Mama.’ Francis clapped, his gaze happy.

She laughed, before taking a deep breath. When Lawrence realised that returning to Culford Manor for Christmas would cheer the boys, he might relent, especially if the doctor agreed Esther was well enough. As for her apprehensions about the house, she would bury them. Lawrence’s feelings and happiness were her bigger concern.

‘Goodnight, my darlings. Sleep tight.’

‘Goodnight, Mama.’

Cornelia walked to the door and blew them a kiss before leaving the door slightly ajar. With slow and heavy footsteps, she headed across the landing to Lawrence and Esther’s room.

She and Lawrence owed it to Harriet to see how she fared. The house now belonged to all three of them, after all. It was wrong that Harriet had been left to her own devices these past few months. When their mother passed and left everything to Lawrence, he had not wanted any part of the estate but, with Cornelia’s gentle persuasion, he had eventually agreed to splitting the lands between their parents’ three children equally.

Harriet had no wish to leave the manor, claiming she knew their mother better than anyone and would continue to run the estate accordingly. Lawrence had broached no argument and Cornelia had willingly left Harriet to her domain, too.

But that didn’t mean she and Lawrence shouldn’t be visiting every now and then to reassure themselves that Harriet was well and the estate thriving.

She knocked on the bedroom door, aware of how being bed-ridden would be stretching Esther’s patience. It was imperative Cornelia tread carefully. The last thing she wanted was for Lawrence to lose his temper and further upset Esther.

‘Come in.’

Cornelia found her brother and Esther in bed, the sheets pulled up around them, as they read in companionable silence. The scene was one of loving peace and she was loath to break it, but asking Lawrence about Culford was like ripping a bandage from a wound. Quicker was always better.

‘Well, the boys are abed for the night. I think I might have some hot chocolate. Would either of you like to join me?’

‘That sounds wonderful.’ Esther smiled. ‘Thank you, Cornelia.’

She looked to her brother as he turned the page of his book. ‘Lawrence?’

‘Hmm?’

Cornelia raised her eyebrows, her hands tightly clasped in front of her. ‘Chocolate?’

‘No, thank you.’ He glanced at her, flashed a smile and returned to his reading.

Taking a deep breath, she approached the armchair beside him. ‘I’ve just been talking to the boys about Christmas.’

‘Oh?’ Esther lowered her book, her gaze happy. ‘Are they excited?’

‘They weren’t. Not at first.’

Surprise sparked in Lawrence’s eyes. ‘Why ever not? I would’ve thought they would be as full of excitement as Rose and Nathaniel.’

‘I’m afraid not.’ Cornelia sighed and slumped her shoulders. ‘They are thinking of David. Of his absence.’

‘Oh, Cornelia.’ Esther’s gaze softened with sympathy. ‘I’m so sorry.’

‘It’s all right. I will get them through this first Christmas without him, but…’ She glanced at Lawrence. ‘They did tell me about something that might cheer them up.’

Lawrence frowned. ‘And? What was it?’

‘They mentioned spending Christmas at the manor.’

His jaw immediately tightened, his eyes darkening. ‘You know how I feel about that house.’

‘Of course, I do, but isn’t it something you’d at least consider? It would make them so happy.’

‘Why on earth do they think that godforsaken place will make their Christmas happier? The thought of stepping foot on that estate again sickens me. I hope you gave them a flat no?’

‘I couldn’t.’ Cornelia swallowed, hating she’d provoked her brother’s rare irritation. ‘They seemed so sad, but once Alfred suggested it, they lit up like candles. How can I refuse them? Would it be so bad? We owe it to Harriet to go there, if nothing else.’

He studied her a moment, his eyes losing a little of their anger. ‘I intended inviting her here for Christmas. Esther and I don’t want Harriet alone in that house, with only the staff for company, any more than you do.’

‘But you know how Harriet feels about the manor. I’d wager a hundred pounds she’d rather spend Christmas there than here. She’ll no doubt have plans to entertain her friends and the local gentry. If Esther would like to, and the doctor says she is safe to travel, couldn’t we lend ourselves to the possibility we might enjoy ourselves too? It would only be for a few days. A week at the most.’

Lawrence’s gaze lingered on hers before he looked to the fire crackling in the hearth, his lips tightly sealed. Cornelia turned to Esther, praying her sister-in-law sensed Cornelia’s desperate need to cheer her children. Damn David and his selfish decision to spend Christmas at Middleton Park, Sophie Hughes’ ancestral home in Colerne, a small village not far from Bath, rather than see his children. Although, on reflection, that scenario might well have caused her impossible grief and anxiety.

Esther gave a discreet nod and turned to Lawrence. ‘Cornelia’s right, my love. If it would make Alfred and Francis happy, and the doctor says I am fit enough to travel, could we not go? The house belongs to all three of you. Harriet has been alone for some time now. Don’t you want to see her? Ensure she is happy?’

A muscle flexed in Lawrence’s jaw as he faced Esther, his eyes devoid of emotion. ‘I telephone her regularly. She is quite all right.’ He slowly closed his book and placed it on the small table beside him before tossing back the covers and striding to a small mahogany cabinet at the side of the room. ‘Harriet has made it perfectly clear she has no need for me or Cornelia to visit. She’s in her element as lady of the manor.’

Esther glanced at Cornelia. ‘All the same, I’m sure she’d welcome her brother, sister, niece and nephews at this special time of year.’

Cornelia mouthed a thank you to Esther as her brother opened the cupboard door and extracted a decanter and glass. The sound of liquid being poured broke through the tense silence and Cornelia swiped her slightly clammy hands over her skirt.

Lawrence walked to the fireplace and looked into the flickering flames, his knuckles white around his glass. ‘The abuse I suffered at our parents’ hands almost escapes me these days.’ He lifted his eyes to his wife. ‘Because, at last, I am happy. At peace.’ His gaze hardened as it drifted to Cornelia. ‘If I go back, I have no doubt my peace would once again be shattered.’

‘Not if you don’t allow it.’ Cornelia stood and approached him, gently placing her hand on his arm. ‘Lawrence, please. I’ve nothing else to offer my children but my love and this one wish. No present, song or game will fill the hole David has left in their lives. This is their very first Christmas without him. Please. Let me do this one thing for them.’

He ran his gaze over her face before looking past her to Esther.

Cornelia held her breath.

Seconds passed and then he faced her. ‘I’ll think about it.’

She released her held breath and smiled, her fingers tightening on his arm. ‘That’s all I ask. Thank you.’

‘This is not a yes.’

‘I know, and I won’t press you.’

‘I need a few days to think. No matter how much Esther might try to persuade me of Harriet’s amiability, I’m quite certain she won’t welcome our descent on her. I’ll need to speak with her first, not to mention the doctor. Going to Culford will be a flat refusal if Rubinstein thinks there’s even the tiniest risk to Esther and the baby.’

‘Of course. I’m happy to telephone Harriet for you, if you think it will help.’

‘Not yet. Leave things with me for the time being.’

‘As you wish.’ Cornelia slipped her hand from his arm and flashed a grin at Esther, who smiled back, even though her concerned gaze continued to return to her husband. ‘Thank you, Esther. Now, shall I see about that chocolate?’

Cornelia hurried from the room with every confidence Lawrence would come to see how important it was that Alfred and Francis enjoyed this Christmas. The changes in her life meant it was her responsibility to explore new ways to make her children and herself happy. Although she might fail to provide them with the perfect family home she dreamed of, she would certainly try with everything she had.