Page 56 of A Shop Girl’s Christmas (Pennington’s Department Store #3)

Stephen got out of his car and stared once more at the facade of Culford Manor.

A mixture of excitement and apprehension swept over him as he closed the door. The mass of windows hid rooms of such a size and luxury that his confidence Cornelia would still want him faltered. The Culfords were rich beyond his imaginings and Cornelia deserved the life she was born to.

He had to keep at the forefront of his mind that this was a woman who’d chosen as independent a path as possible after her divorce. Living with her brother was a temporary solution only. Cornelia had sought work. Her own money. A life of her own making.

But maybe that life could include him, too.

He approached the front door, pushed away his residual nerves and lifted the big brass knocker.

‘Good afternoon, sir.’

‘Adams, good afternoon. I’m here to see Miss Culford. Is she in?’

The butler shook his head, his expression seemingly one of tired regret. ‘I’m afraid not, sir. She’s gone.’

Stephen stared. ‘Cornelia’s gone?’

‘Left, sir. Two days ago.’

‘Two—’

‘Adams? Who is it?’ A female voice sounded behind the butler. ‘Don’t leave a visitor standing on the doorstep.’ The door widened, and Cornelia’s sister appeared. ‘Oh, Mr Gower. This is a surprise.’

Stephen eyed her carefully. The annoyance in her eyes had quickly changed to what looked like glee. He dipped his head. ‘Miss Culford.’

‘Well, don’t just stand there. Come in, please.’

‘I’m here to see Cornelia. If she isn’t—’

‘Then I must tell you what I know about her whereabouts, mustn’t I?’ She gripped Stephen’s wrist. ‘Come in. Adams, please take Mr Gower’s coat and hat.’

Seeing no alternative, Stephen allowed himself to be ushered into the house.

Once he’d been relieved of his outer garments, Harriet tucked her arm into his and led him along the dark corridor to the drawing room. ‘So, you have come looking for my dear, dear sister. How romantic.’

‘Romantic?’ What had Cornelia told her? Harriet didn’t strike him as the subtlest of people when it came to people’s privacy. ‘I am merely here to—’

‘Sweep my sister off her feet? To take her to your humble home and leave her there to cook and clean, while you carry out important police business?’ Harriet laughed. ‘Oh, my dear man, I’m not sure I could allow such a thing.’

Stephen clenched his jaw and chose to keep his counsel. For now.

She led him into the drawing room to the settee. ‘Take a seat and we’ll have some tea.’

‘Miss Culford—’

‘Harriet, please.’ Her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. ‘After all, if Cornelia returns your feelings, we could soon be in-laws.’

Stephen leaned back on the sofa and pinned her with a stare. ‘Where is she?’

‘I couldn’t possibly say.’ Harriet waved her hand dismissively, her smile dissolving. ‘She swept out of the house, full of pomp and purpose as though she knew exactly what she was doing. The poor boys had no choice but to trail after her like a pair of dutiful puppies.’

‘I can’t see Cornelia forcing her boys into anything.’

‘And you think you know my sister better than I do, Mr Gower? I think not.’

The clinking of crockery heralded Ruth, carrying a tea tray with cups and saucers and a tiered plate filled with small sandwiches and slices of sponge cake. Stephen inwardly groaned. How was he to make the sharp exit he wanted now?

‘Just put everything on the table, Ruth.’ Harriet nodded towards the low table in front of the sofa. ‘I will serve Mr Gower.’

‘Yes, ma’am.’

Harriet poured the tea and, when they were both settled with a cup and saucer, she said, ‘So, what can I tell you about Cornelia? Well, firstly, she has come to the conclusion she no longer wishes to live here. That Alfred and Francis will be happy wherever she decides to take them.’

Stephen stilled. Cornelia had left Oxfordshire permanently? As proud of her as he was for clearly standing her ground with her exceeding stuck up sister, he was also aware that he might be shortly having yet another request for Inspector King. There was every chance the man’s head might explode this time.

He cleared his throat. ‘Which is where exactly? Has she returned to Bath?’

‘I don’t doubt it for a minute, no matter what she might have claimed as she left.’

Impatience hummed through him. ‘Which means?’

She shook her head, her expression one of boredom. ‘She suggested she might drag the two boys and herself to London.’

‘London?’ Dread curled through Stephen. ‘Cornelia has gone to London?’

‘Oh, of course not.’ She slid her cup and saucer onto the table, her head turned from him as she laid out two plates. ‘Sandwich?’

‘Harriet, did Cornelia specifically tell you she was going to London?’ Hope and fear leapt into his heart. Had she gone to find him? Had she come to the conclusion that they needed to be together? That their love was too real, too important? ‘Why?’

‘Why?’ She laughed. ‘If you don’t know that, then you are terribly ignorant about my sister. She is headstrong and full of inconsequential gestures. She might have said she was going to London, but if she could actually bring herself to do it is another matter entirely.’

‘You’re wrong.’

She flinched and irritation seeped into her voice. ‘I beg your pardon. You cannot come into my house, speak to me so dismissively and expect—’

‘When have you ever known Cornelia to not do exactly as she intended?’ He pushed his tea onto the table and stood. ‘She left Oxfordshire and moved the children to Bath. She told her brother she would gain employment and she did. Why on earth do you think for a moment she would not travel to London with Alfred and Francis, once her mind was made up? I need to go.’

‘Mr Gower, wait.’ Harriet stood, her cheeks flushed, and her eyes glinting with irritation. ‘She would have gone to Lawrence in the first instance. There is absolutely no possibility she would go off to find you without—’

‘To find me?’ His heart beat a little faster. ‘Is that what she said?’

‘Yes, of course. Why else would Cornelia do such a nonsensical thing? Firstly, she follows mother’s bidding and marries that ghastly David. Then she—’

‘Enough.’ Stephen spun away from her and headed for the door. ‘I’m leaving.’

‘Mr Gower. Please, wait.’

Harriet’s hurried footsteps sounded behind him, but Stephen continued into the hallway to retrieve his coat and hat.

‘Mr Gower, please listen to me.’ Harriet gripped his arm. ‘You must at least call my brother. If I am wrong in my assumption that Cornelia left for London, I will not be wrong in thinking that she won’t leave without saying goodbye to Lawrence. She wouldn’t do that to him.’

Indecision warred inside him as he studied her, his body rigid with tension at the thought of Cornelia being alone with her children in the city.

Harriet tugged his sleeve. ‘Come, you can use the telephone in the parlour.’

His mind reeled. What had made Cornelia change her mind about Culford? He didn’t doubt part of it was the woman who led him by the wrist right now. Could he really dare to believe Cornelia loved him enough to bring her children to London? To school them there? Share in his life as a sergeant at Scotland Yard?

Hope burned as they entered the cream and lemon parlour, the weak February sunshine gleaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Yet, Stephen felt no comfort in the brightness of the afternoon. Instead, dark foreboding and worry coiled through him.

He spotted the telephone on a small side table and, pulling his arm from Harriet’s grasp, he strode forward and lifted the receiver.

‘What’s the number?’

She gave it to him before theatrically flinging herself into a chair, her blue gaze steely.

He dialled the number.

‘Culford residence.’

‘Good afternoon. Might I speak to Mr Culford, please?’

‘He isn’t here, I’m afraid, sir. Might I take a message?’

Stephen squeezed his eyes closed. ‘Is Mrs Culford available?’

‘Might I ask who’s calling?’

‘Stephen Gower. It’s a matter of urgency.’

‘Just one moment, sir.’

He glanced at Harriet. She studied her nails, her expression one of utter boredom as she swung her crossed leg back and forth. Gritting his teeth, he turned away.

‘Stephen? It’s Esther. Is everything all right?’

‘Esther, thank God. Is Cornelia at the house? Is she with you?’

‘Cornelia? No, she’s at the manor.’

He gripped the phone tighter. ‘No, she’s not.’

‘But how do you know—’

‘Because I’m at Culford now. She isn’t here, Esther, and hasn’t been for five days. She’s gone to London.’

‘London?’

‘She’s looking for me. It’s my fault, but I’ll find her. Tell Lawrence I’m sorry, but he’s not to worry. She’ll be fine. I’ll ensure it.’

‘Oh, Stephen. What was she thinking? Why on earth didn’t she come to us first? I know how she feels about you, but to take the children…’ She sighed. ‘No, she wouldn’t do that without saying goodbye. Come to Bath. I will contact Lawrence and he’ll be at the house by the time you arrive.’

Stephen stared at the wall ahead of him. Harriet had presumed the same thing, but what if she and Esther were wrong, and he wasted precious time in Bath when he could be in London?

‘Are you certain she wouldn’t go to London? If she hasn’t come to you, then where else could she be?’

‘Just come to the house. We’ll sort out everything together. As a family.’

‘As a family?’

‘As a family, Stephen.’

‘I’ll see you shortly.’ He replaced the receiver and gripped it, willing his heart to slow down. What did Esther mean? Was he included? Excluded? Dare he hope that he might come to be a part of Cornelia’s family? A trusted part?

Harriet slowly stood up and clasped her hands in front of her, her eyes reflecting a confusing sorrow that he didn’t have time to wonder about. Yet, for a split second, he felt as if he ought to comfort her.

He nodded. ‘I’ll see you again some time, I’m sure.’

She gave him a tight smile, her eyes shining in the sunny room. ‘I do hope so, Mr Gower.’