A Rebel at Pennington’s

by Rachel Brimble

  Esther picked up her purse from the settee and slid it beneath her arm as she came closer. Her eyes were filled with doubt. ‘Doesn’t Mr Moorebrook support women’s suffrage?’

  ‘I’m sure he does. It will be the extra work involved that he’ll be fretting over. Between us and the staff I’m bringing on board, he’ll be enthusiastic soon enough.’ Lawrence placed his hand on her waist, brushed his lips lightly across hers. ‘These events will happen. I’ll make sure of it. I hope you know by now that I’ll do anything for you. Whatever it takes.’

  She studied his mouth for a long moment before exhaling a soft breath. ‘I trust you, but now I really should go. Will I see you tomorrow at the rally?’

  ‘Of course.’

  The pleasure in her eyes showed all too clearly how she had been worried their intimacy might have changed his interest in her. Didn’t she realise it was her in the driving seat, not him?

  ‘The things we do together, the things we say to one another, have only become more important to me, Esther. Side by side, remember? I’m looking forward to seeing the work you do and meeting some of your associates. The more suffragists I know, the more I can use their opinions and views to make the auction and ball a success. Where shall I meet you? Shall I come to your home?’

  She quickly shook her head. ‘No. I’m not ready for you to meet my aunt. She is a formidable woman, but one whiff of your success and she’ll be putty in your hands. I need some time before I can bear witness to her transformation.’

  Lawrence laughed. ‘You clearly have her card marked.’

  ‘Hers and my stepmother’s elitism and snobbery are beyond me.’ She sighed. ‘But at least, in our own way, my aunt and I love one another. I pray she’ll come around to my impulses, as she likes to call everything and anything I do.’ She inhaled a long breath. ‘But now I must go. Why don’t you meet me outside the Abbey and I’ll take you to our meeting place? It would be good for you to get acquainted with a few of the women before we walk to the rally.’

  ‘I’ll see you there at six o’clock.’

  She nodded and then rose on her toes to press a quick kiss to his lips. ‘See you tomorrow.’

  She stepped towards the door and Lawrence followed. ‘Don’t you want me to escort you downstairs?’

  ‘No, you stay here. That way we’ll avoid any tittle-tattle and Mr Moorebrooke might go some way to believing our meeting was purely business.’

  Lawrence opened the door and stood on the threshold and as he watched Esther walk along the corridor to the lift, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so genuinely happy.

  Twenty-Nine

  The next day, Esther strode into Pennington’s with a smile on her face and a spring in her step. Ever since she’d left Lawrence’s hotel yesterday, she’d waited for a wave of shame to overcome her, yet she had only experienced elation, excitement and a deep awareness that choosing to make love with him had been one of the best decisions of her life. Every now and then, the worry of pregnancy threatened her happiness, but she pushed it firmly away. The chances were slim that she might be with child after only making love a single time, although possible. But what good would it do to linger over what ifs and maybes?

  Whenever she’d looked into his eyes during their conversations in his office, only admiration and desire had stared back at her. Her trepidation of whether she could live up to Lawrence’s wonderful parental standards and fully embrace the responsibility of his life and his children’s lives still lingered, but, somehow, the possibilities were no longer as frightening.

  Waving to a few of the shop girls, Esther walked to the lift and smiled at Henry, Pennington’s young lift attendant. ‘Good morning, Henry. Fifth floor, please.’

  ‘Are you seeing Miss Pennington?’

  ‘I am.’ She stepped into the lift and Henry pulled the doors shut with a clang. ‘Would you happen to know if she’s alone?’

  ‘I think so. I’ve not dropped anyone to the fifth floor so far today. Not that it means no one has taken the stairs.’

  They rode the rest of the way in silence until the lift shuddered to a halt at the fifth floor and Esther stepped onto the thick, plush carpet of Pennington’s executive floor. ‘See you soon, Henry.’

  Esther strode past Joseph Carter’s closed office door, past the assistant manager’s and into Elizabeth’s secretary’s domain. Although a lot had changed since Elizabeth took over the running of Pennington’s a year before, Mrs Chadwick, once Elizabeth’s father’s secretary, had not. No matter what Edward Pennington might have thought of Mrs Chadwick’s loyalty to him, it was to Pennington’s that her allegiance was truly stalwart. The store and whoever was in charge.

  ‘Mrs Chadwick, good morning.’ Esther approached the secretary’s desk. ‘Is it possible Miss Pennington is free to see me for a few moments?’

  ‘She’s just with Amelia Wakefield.’ The older woman rose and nodded towards some chairs lining the wall. ‘If you’d like to take a seat?’

  Esther sat and pulled her purse into her lap, her fingers tightly clutching the soft leather. Why was Elizabeth meeting with Amelia first thing on a Monday morning? And without Esther, too. Had Amelia done something wrong that Esther had missed? She frowned as unwelcome nervousness whispered through her. Could Elizabeth be promoting Amelia? She was an exemplary dresser and had an idea for ladies’ fashions that Esther considered second to none.

  Silently admonishing her nerves, Esther relaxed her shoulders. Well, if it was a promotion, it was well deserved, and Esther wished one of her most favoured colleagues the best of luck… even if it did irk a little if Elizabeth hadn’t felt the need to include Esther in the meeting. Amelia was proving herself an excellent addition to the Society and Pennington’s.

  Esther turned her mind to the reasons she wanted to speak to Elizabeth. She was excited to share news of the events at Lawrence’s hotel but also wanted Elizabeth to consider Pennington’s sponsoring a crowd-pleasing, crowd-pulling auction prize. For so long, Elizabeth had been adamant she would not show favour to one group of suffrage campaigners over another, but Esther was confident her friend would want to contribute something to the auction in support of women’s progression, if not the suffrage bill itself.

  If Elizabeth was willing to tie the Pennington’s name to the fundraiser and advertise the event in-store, it would be a huge coup for donations, lots for the auction and, most importantly, buyers’ and bidders’ attendance.

  Elizabeth’s office door opened, and Amelia came out ahead of Elizabeth. Esther stood and studied Amelia’s expression for a clue of what might have been said between her and Elizabeth. She looked extremely pleased with herself, standing straight-backed and proud.

  Esther smiled. ‘Good morning, Amelia, Elizabeth.’

  ‘Good morning, Esther.’ Amelia smiled before turning to Elizabeth. ‘Can I tell Esther what we’ve discussed?’

  ‘Of course. The dressers’ department is headed by Esther, after all.’

  Amelia blushed and faced Esther, who brimmed with curiosity. Amelia gripped Esther’s arm. ‘If it’s all right with you, Miss Pennington would like me to head up the displays for the new summer lines in the ladies’ and men’s departments. I can’t believe both of you have such faith in me.’

  Esther immediately relaxed, hating that she’d been at all rattled by Amelia and Elizabeth talking. ‘Well, of course, it’s all right with me. I suggested it to Elizabeth just last week.’ She smiled. ‘Fashion is your forte without a doubt. I’m sure you’ll come up with some spectacular displays.’ She squeezed Amelia’s hand. ‘I’m really happy for you. It’s a brilliant opportunity.’

  ‘Thank you, Esther. That means a lot to me.’

  Amelia smiled at Esther and Elizabeth before hurrying along the corridor towards the lift.

  Esther turned to Elizabeth. ‘I’m not sure I’ve seen her so happy.’

  ‘Well, you were right, it would be good to give Amelia a chance to prove herself with a solo project. You don
’t mind that I called her to my office without you, do you?’

  ‘Not at all.’

  ‘I’m glad. Now, why don’t you come through and tell me what I can help you with. Is this about the Coronation window? I’ve had so many customers and staff desperate to know what you have planned.’

  Esther followed Elizabeth into her office and closed the door. Elizabeth strode to the seating area in the far corner of the vast room which showcased a splendid view across the city, the Abbey’s tower displayed like a beacon in the distance. Esther sat on the settee and Elizabeth settled beside her.

  ‘So,’ Elizabeth smiled. ‘What can I do for you?’

  Esther put her purse on the table in front of them and pulled her hands into her lap. ‘I’m hoping for your sponsorship with something.’

  ‘Sponsorship?’

  ‘Yes. Do you remember Lawrence Culford?’

  ‘Of course.’ Elizabeth’s green eyes lit with undisguised triumph. ‘Why? Are you stepping out with him now?’

  Heat leapt into Esther’s cheeks. She and Lawrence had somewhat bypassed stepping out… ‘Yes, you could say that.’

  ‘Well, that’s wonderful.’ Elizabeth squeezed her hand. ‘Is he as truly charming as he seems?’

  ‘Yes, he is.’ She laughed, her cheeks warming. ‘Probably too charming if my growing feelings for him are anything to go by.’

  ‘Well, I’m pleased he’s providing you with some fun. Too much work and no play isn’t good for anyone. You included.’

  ‘Maybe, but it’s actually my work for the Cause that I want to talk to you about.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘Lawrence and I plan to host a fundraising auction at The Phoenix in aid of women’s suffrage. I would love for Pennington’s to sponsor a lot of some sort. If you were to donate a few items, I could come up with some poster designs to dot around the store. It really would help entice some interest.’

  Elizabeth’s gaze wandered slowly over Esther’s face in obvious contemplation. ‘Is the auction for a specific group of campaigners?’

  ‘I planned to host the event for the suffragists rather than suffragettes, but I suppose the funds raised could be equally split if you would prefer it. That way, Pennington’s won’t be seen to be taking sides.’

  ‘That’s what I’ve stipulated before whenever Pennington’s has been attached to any sort of campaigning but, as the suffragettes’ actions grow more hostile, I can’t help wondering if Pennington’s should choose a side. However, it’s difficult, as there’s no way of knowing which customer favours which group of campaigners from the next; so we risk losing a sizable number if we misjudge.’ She shook her head. ‘No, the store must remain neutral in all but the fight itself. I want the public to know we are for the vote, but not which course of action we support.’

  ‘So, if the fundraiser is for all women campaigners, Pennington’s will add their sponsorship?’

  Elizabeth smiled. ‘Yes.’

  ‘Oh, that’s wonderful.’ Esther squeezed Elizabeth’s hand. ‘Thank you. Do you think Joseph would be willing to compere? He’s such a fabulous orator.’

  Elizabeth’s eyes shadowed and her shoulders slumped. ‘I wouldn’t approach him at the moment.’

  Esther frowned, concerned that her friend seemed suddenly drained. ‘Is this about the something you said you’d share with me when you could?’

  Elizabeth nodded as her eyes glinted with what Esther was surprised to see were unshed tears.

  ‘Elizabeth, please let me help you. You know I’ll do anything I can.’

  Her friend blinked, her gaze turning worryingly sombre. ‘If I tell you something, can I trust you not to share it with anyone else? You must promise me, Esther.’

  ‘Of course.’ Esther inched closer and slid her arm around Elizabeth’s shoulders. ‘What is it?’

  Elizabeth exhaled a heavy breath. ‘As you know, Joseph was a widower before he married me.’

  Esther frowned, the low, careful tone of Elizabeth’s voice deepening her concern. ‘Yes. That is true, isn’t it?’

  Elizabeth nodded, her chest rising as she inhaled a long breath. ‘Joseph’s first wife was murdered.’

  ‘Murdered?’ Esther stilled. ‘My God.’

  ‘And Joseph continues to feel responsible.’

  ‘Why on earth would he think the blame lies with him?’

  ‘Because he hates that he chose to work the night Lillian was killed rather than accompany her on her mercy visits to feed the poor, as he usually did. She was attacked in an alleyway by the river.’

  Esther’s heart raced. Beatings and occasional killings around the poorer parts of the city were sometimes reported in the newspaper, but both were rare. Very rare. ‘And her killer—’

  ‘Has never been found. Joseph has done all he can with the police and by himself to find this man, without success. This past month, he’s become obsessed with finding him once and for all. It’s as though he suddenly feels that he must find his wife’s murderer or his life will never move forward, no matter how much I promise to stand beside him for however long it takes to find this man.’

  ‘To lose a loved one in any circumstances is terrible, but to murder? I cannot imagine living with such a thing.’ Esther tightened her grip on Elizabeth’s hand. Her friend’s and Joseph’s behaviour in recent weeks now made complete sense. They must be consumed by this horrible situation.

  ‘Exactly, and the longer Lillian’s killer walks free, the more it’s tearing Joseph apart. I’ve done all I can to help him, but we’re running out of ideas of how to even begin to look for someone without description. Her killer could still be in the city, but he could just as easily be abroad. Maybe even dead or incarcerated.’

  ‘Oh, Elizabeth. I’m so sorry.’

  Her friend shook her head, anguish burning in her dark green eyes. ‘I just feel so selfish.’ Her voice cracked.

  ‘Selfish? This is not your doing. You must not blame yourself for Joseph’s horrible pain.’

  ‘But… I want us to start a family, Esther. To have a baby. But until Lillian’s murderer is brought to justice, I fear Joseph will not even consider us moving on together. You see? I’m being unforgivably selfish.’

  ‘No, you’re not. Wanting a baby. Wanting to add to the love you and Joseph share does not equate to selfishness. You must talk to him. Tell him how you feel. Aren’t there others who can help him? I’ll certainly do anything either of you asks of me.’

  ‘Joseph refuses to let me involve anyone else. It’s as though it’s his sole mission, our mission, to find the killer. I’ve tried persuading him to let a few trusted friends help us, but he always says no.’

  ‘You must keep trying to reason with him. He’ll soon see the responsibility of her death and finding her killer does not lie on his shoulders alone. That there will be people willing to help.’

  Elizabeth nodded and swiped her fingers beneath her eyes. ‘I know, and I’ll find a way to get through to him. I love him so much. I can’t go on watching him suffer this way.’ She abruptly stood. ‘You should go. I’ve kept you from your work. You have my promise of sponsorship if it’s for the Cause rather than a specific group. Is that all right?’

  Her mind whirled with what Elizabeth had told her, her heart breaking for her pain. She forced a smile. ‘That’s wonderful. Thank you.’

  They embraced and walked to the door.

  Esther pulled the door open and stopped. ‘I’m always here for you. If you ever need to talk—’

  ‘I know where to find you.’ Elizabeth smiled. ‘I’ll see you later.’

  Esther nodded and walked past Mrs Chadwick’s desk and along the corridor to the lift, her heart heavy with what Elizabeth and Joseph secretly struggled with. There had to be someone who could help them, but who?

  There were so many problems in the world. So many people with silent despairs, both from the past and in the present. Pennington’s employed hundreds of people, had thousands of customers. It was awful to think how much
pain existed in Pennington’s alone.

  Esther pressed the button to call the lift and stepped back, her earlier happiness depleted. The work needed to brighten and better the world could not be done through love alone. Elizabeth and Joseph were deeply devoted to one another, their love showing through every look and touch, yet still they suffered. Who knew what might happen between her and Lawrence, but it would be foolish to think that because they had found one another they’d be entirely happy for the rest of their lives.

  Which meant a person’s life had to remain their own regardless of who they chose to share it with. It was the only way to fight for what they wanted. Fight for change and progression.

  Simply… fight.

  Thirty

  Lawrence walked through the door of Oxfordshire train station and onto the flagstone pavement outside. He smoothed his tie before putting on his hat and scanned the line of cabs ahead of him. He’d had sufficient time on the journey from Bath to formulate his plan of how to approach David, Cornelia’s rat of a husband. Striding forward, Lawrence welcomed the pent-up anger that bubbled inside of him.

  David Parker had always fancied himself a cut above other men in looks, intelligence and wit and, as much as Lawrence had been fond of the man, that vanished the moment Cornelia told him of David’s adultery.

  Pleased to see three or four horse and carriage cabs awaiting fares, he hurried forward and opened the door of the carriage in front.

  ‘Afternoon, sir.’ The driver turned in his seat. ‘Where can I take you?’

  ‘Harlington Place, if you will.’

  ‘Straight away, sir.’

  Lawrence settled back in his seat, his jaw tight. Not only had David been unfaithful, he’d chosen a lover who would inherit a pretty penny in due course. The man was, and always had been, Lawrence now realised, a social-climbing leech. When he’d married Cornelia, it had been a mutually beneficial match for both David’s family and the Culfords.

  From the Culford’s point of view, the Parkers were wealthier, and from the Parker’s point of view, the land Lawrence’s parents owned adjoined the Parker estate. It was their fathers’ ambition for the two estates to eventually join.