Page 52 of A Shop Girl’s Christmas (Pennington’s Department Store #3)
Stephen waved to his mother as she stood on her doorstep and flapped her handkerchief in farewell. Her kind gaze held his, before she gave a curt nod and walked inside, closing the door behind her.
He’d miss her.
When he’d given her an exclusive Pennington’s food hamper and a bunch of flowers as a parting gift, his heart had lifted to see the delight her eyes. He would not leave it as long to come back for a visit next time.
He took a deep breath and started his walk into town. Would life ever be normal again now that he’d met Cornelia Culford? He very much doubted it.
Whether his decision to see her again today would be his undoing, he didn’t know, but he refused to disappear like a thief in the night without telling her what she meant to him. What she and her family had done for him.
The January day was cold, the sky grey-white with the impending threat of snow, and Stephen’s breath plumed in puffs ahead of him as he stepped up his pace. He adjusted his grip on his suitcase and pulled his scarf a little higher beneath his chin, his mind full of what to say to Cornelia.
He couldn’t let today be the last time he saw her. No matter how much better it would be for his heart to sever all contact, he couldn’t abide the idea of never seeing her again. He could only hope she felt the same.
Even though they’d seen each other and shared briefly snatched conversations at the store, their lovemaking had hardly been mentioned and, now he was leaving, he imagined she’d concluded he was a cad, a selfish, career-obsessed man who picked up and then dropped women at his pleasure. Nothing could be further from the truth. It didn’t matter that he’d told her he was leaving before they ventured upstairs to her bedroom that night. His feelings had only deepened afterwards and, judging by the way she looked at him when he came to Pennington’s to break the news of Wilson’s arrest, their increased intimacy had mattered deeply to her, too.
Yet, despite his love for her, he couldn’t stay in this city. He belonged in London. Belonged at the Yard. Being a good husband and partner to Cornelia, and a good stepfather to Alfred and Francis, was impossible when the pull of his service to the police was so strong.
If he stayed, he’d fail them. Whether it was the endless night shifts, inevitable trips away from home, or the emotional wear and tear as a police officer, he doubted he could ever be the husband Cornelia deserved. He wanted her happy. To find love with a man who had the time to spend with her and the children, without the constant pressure of criminal activity vying for his attention. The thought of Cornelia being with someone else, as she’d been with him, caused a tight knot in Stephen’s stomach and he marched purposefully forward, stomping away his pain with every step.
He began his descent along Milsom Street, Pennington’s stretching towards the January sky like a beacon summoning consumers everywhere. Unexpected pride swept through him that he’d played even a small part in a store that was like no other. Pennington’s had a prestige, an incomparable atmosphere that enveloped its staff and customers. Smiling faces, the ceaseless ping of cash registers and laughter that resounded from the atrium through to the Butterfly restaurant demonstrated just how special Pennington’s was to so many. It was a place where he’d hoped he would find escape, but it wasn’t to be.
And, if Cornelia intended to return to Culford, it seemed she hadn’t found hers there either.
Reaching Pennington’s, he took a deep breath and walked through its double doors.
The store still shone in all its seasonal brilliance, the twelve days of Christmas not quite over. Stephen immediately looked towards the jewellery section and quickly found Cornelia as she walked out from behind the counter. His heart jolted. She was everything he could ever want in a woman, yet still he could not sacrifice his work to be with her.
Walker, Hettie and Fay’s deaths would forever haunt him, but his capture of Wilson had served to boost Stephen’s confidence and reaffirm his duty. He had to go back.
He wove his way through the crowds, and glanced at his watch. Lunchtime. Pleased to have caught her near her break, he quickened his pace.
‘Cornelia?’
Her blue eyes widened as two spots of colour leapt into her cheeks. ‘Stephen! What are you doing here?’
He smiled, pleased by the happiness in her eyes. ‘I’m here to see you. I couldn’t leave without saying goodbye.’
Her gaze dropped to his suitcase. ‘You’re leaving now?’
‘Today, yes, but I’d hoped to treat you to lunch, as a way of thanking you for everything you and your family have done for me.’
‘Thank me?’ The light in her eyes dimmed a little. ‘That’s what you came here for?’
‘That, and because I couldn’t leave without seeing you. You’re in my head, Cornelia. My heart, too, if I’m honest.’
Her eyes lit up once more. ‘In that case, how can I refuse?’
She took his arm and they boarded the lift to the fourth floor and Pennington’s Butterfly restaurant. He couldn’t be sure what she felt upon seeing him again, but her reaction gave him hope that all was not lost between them.
Pennington’s opulent white and gold restaurant was as busy as always, with its chandeliers glinting in the mirrored wall panelling.
At the table, Stephen pulled out Cornelia’s chair before he sat beside her and placed his suitcase beneath the table. When he looked up, she was watching him, her gaze unreadable.
He itched to take her hand but refrained. ‘Are you all right? What is it?’
‘You. I wish you were happy in Bath, Stephen. I wish my children were happy here, too.’
The need to touch her was too much and he finally relented, taking her hand and gently squeezing her fingers. ‘I wish it, too, but we’d end up hurting each other more if we were to stay in a city where deep down neither of us belongs. I have to go back, Cornelia. Scotland Yard is my calling, no matter how much I wish I could take you with me.’
She nodded, tears glinting in her eyes as she gently pulled her hand away from his. ‘So, this is it. We say goodbye and never see one another again?’
‘Not if you don’t want that. Could I not visit you at Culford? Maybe you’d even want to venture to London one day.’
Doubt and worry clouded her eyes before she looked down at the table. ‘Do you think that would be wise?’
Disappointment struck him hard. ‘Don’t you?’
She raised her head, her eyes dry and her colour a little paler. ‘I don’t. It would be foolish, painful even, for us to come in and out of each other’s lives. We couldn’t possibly be happy if—’
‘Cornelia, please.’ He gripped her hand again, his need to see her so raw, he couldn’t tamp it down or extinguish it. ‘I don’t want this to be the end for us.’
Her gaze travelled over his face and lingered for a long moment at his mouth. Slowly, she lifted her eyes to his and sighed. ‘Neither do I. For all the heartbreak it might mean, I’ll see you whenever, and however, I can.’
Relief flooded through him, and he leaned towards her, his gaze searching hers and his heart filling with joy from the love he saw in her eyes. ‘I love you, Cornelia.’
She froze. ‘Sorry?’
He couldn’t move or speak. His confession had slipped from his tongue like water over a boulder. ‘I mean…’ He shook his head, dropped his shoulders. ‘I love you.’
She grinned, leaned closer and firmly crushed his lips with hers, seemingly oblivious to the people around them.