‘What’s brought this on, if I might ask?’
Lawrence blew a heavy breath. ‘My concern for them deepens each year they grow older. We managed when Abigail passed. Helen effortlessly coped with Nathanial as a baby and Rose was always so good and happy in your company as well as mine.’
‘But?’
‘They’re growing up, Charles. Rose doesn’t seem as happy any more. I took her to Pennington’s to listen to a lady speak about her bakery business. Rose was in awe of her success, but she was also saddened that the woman was a widow. It made me wonder what she thinks of me being alone, of her and Nathanial not having a mother figure. My mother doesn’t take any interest in them and, as much as Helen and Cornelia love them, the children are not their responsibility.’
Charles’ eyes widened. ‘So, you’re saying you want to marry again?’
‘Yes, I think I do.’
‘Well, well.’
Lawrence stilled. Was he being foolish sharing so much with Charles? ‘You think it a bad idea?’
‘Not at all.’
‘Then what?’
Charles lifted his shoulders. ‘Just ensure you love this woman with all your heart and be certain she loves you and the children with all of hers. Anything less and Rose and Nathanial might never recover.’
The vehemence in Charles’ words showed his deep love of Lawrence’s children and a humbleness whispered through him. He never would have managed the happiness Rose and Nathanial enjoy without Charles’, Helen’s and even the stalwart Mrs Jackson’s care for them, too.
Charles cleared his throat. ‘Miss Stanbury seemed awfully taken with them when she dropped by the other night. It is her you’re thinking of, isn’t it?’
Ignoring the question, Lawrence inhaled. ‘She’s not the type to stay at home mothering children. I imagine she’d be even less keen to mother another woman’s children.’
‘Do you know that for certain?’
‘No, but—’
‘Then you shouldn’t make such a huge presumption. Why not ask her?’
Lawrence stared. ‘To marry me?’
Charles laughed. ‘No. How she feels about motherhood.’
‘Oh. I see. Of course.’ Looking across the market, Lawrence exhaled. ‘She’s a special lady, Charles, but unlikely to ever be my special lady.’
‘And you’re giving up on her just like that?’
‘What choice do I have? I must respect her wishes. If I was to continue to pursue her romantically, I fear she’d wrap me up in a sack and toss me in the River Avon. She’s not the type to suffer fools. Believe me.’
‘But you will be seeing her again?’
‘Yes, later today. I plan to help her suffrage society by hosting something at the hotel in aid of the Cause and she appears interested. We’ll be discussing it anon.’
‘Good, because from where I’m sitting, that young lady is going places. If you wish to court her, it might help to show her how much her work means to you. If you succeed in convincing her of your sincerity, she just might be yours, come the end.’
Lawrence screwed the paper pie bag into a ball as he considered Charles’ words. He was right. He needed to prove to Esther he respected her. Liked her. The falling in love part could be ignored. For now.
Seventeen
For the very first time, Esther walked up the stone steps in front of The Phoenix and under the long black awning that covered the hotel’s patrons from the unpredictable British weather. She stepped into the lobby and halted, absorbing the sights and sounds around her. From the sumptuous sapphire blue carpet beneath her feet, to the matching velvet drapes edging each of the many windows, her first impression of The Phoenix was one full of welcome. As if it whispered, ‘take a seat’, ‘stay awhile’. It was so classically beautiful, it took Esther’s breath away.
People walked back and forth around her as she continued to stare. Women in smart suits with long, flowing skirts, or dresses with pearl buttons at their throats. Every gentleman was suited, their ties perfectly tied and their shoes polished to a high sheen.
Since Pennington’s had started to welcome every class of person to shop there, Esther had become slowly removed from the difference between the rich and the poor. The sights inside The Phoenix brought the reality sharply back.
She should feel affronted, but she was amazed.
She should feel annoyed, but she was in awe.
Forcing herself forward, she looked left and right before deciding to head towards two beautiful opaque double doors that stood open revealing a sumptuous lounge beyond. She nodded hello as men, women and children walked past her and was almost at the entrance when a familiar musky cologne enveloped her.
‘You’re here.’
Lawrence stood so close behind her, had leaned so near to her ear, that his soft breath lifted the wisps of hair at her nape.
She smiled, turning around and taking a small step back. She looked into his deep blue eyes and her stomach tightened. ‘I am.’
He smiled back. ‘I’m a very happy man. Come, let me show you around.’
Taking her hand and placing it in the crook of his elbow, he led her inside the lounge. Struggling to focus on her surroundings rather than the way Lawrence looked at her… so easily touched her, Esther pointedly looked about her. The walls were panelled in shiny dark wood, the floor a slightly lighter shade and highly polished. There was an array of tables and chairs set across the left, allowing for families or couples to relax with drinks and appetisers. On the right were huge leather sofas, wing-backed chairs and low tables where people could peruse a book or newspaper while enjoying an afternoon aperitif or tea.
As it was after lunch but too soon for tea, there were only a few people wandering around or looking out of the windows towards the recreational space beyond.
Lawrence turned, his gaze gentle. ‘What do you think so far?’
The soft, intimate tone of his voice pulled at her as she smiled. ‘It’s lovely, Lawrence. Truly.’
‘Well, as much as I wish we had time to give you a complete tour, unfortunately, I have a meeting in a couple of hours that I couldn’t get out of.’ His apology showed in his eyes and he exhaled. ‘Such is business, I suppose. But I promise you a full tour many times over before whatever date we decide for the event. In the meantime, let’s go to my office.’
He guided her from the lounge into the lobby, past the reception and along a corridor. Closed doors lined one side with various name plaques on the doors. One for Head of Housekeeping, another for Assistant Manager, another for Manager, until, at last, Lawrence stopped at a door at the far end of the corridor and pushed it open.
Esther entered the modest space that was so utterly Lawrence. A large desk stood at the far end of the room, the afternoon’s sunlight bathing it in an amber glow. Two lamps were set at either side, their dark green and gold shades perfectly masculine and professional. She looked to her left towards a stone fireplace with a huge portrait of Lawrence, Rose and Nathanial hung above it.
No Abigail. She swallowed the unexpected sadness that welled in her throat.
‘I commissioned that last year. I thought it would be nice to show the children we’re still a family even though Abigail has gone.’
‘It’s beautiful.’
He gently touched her elbow. ‘Why don’t we sit over here in the seating area? Would you like coffee? Tea?’
‘No, I’m fine, thank you.’ Esther walked across the plush carpet towards a settee and two armchairs situated in front of the window. She carefully placed her purse on the floor and sat. ‘I am completely overwhelmed by the hotel, this office. It’s wonderful.’
‘Thank you. I certainly like it and so do my staff and guests.’
She smiled at the humour in his voice, loving that he was seemingly so unaware of just how successful, handsome and attractive he must be to a hundred and one women. Including herself.
‘So…’ He walked to his desk and picked up a brown folder before returning an
d sitting on the settee beside her. ‘I’ve drawn up some preliminary plans, but you’re the expert as far as the Society and the Cause is concerned, so I’m more than happy to be led by you.’
Taking the folder, Esther flipped through the pages. He suggested holding an auction in the hotel’s ballroom, which she was yet to see. They would set out chairs and use the stage for the auctioneer and showing the lots that included overnight stays at The Phoenix as well as horse and carriage tours of the city. The guests would range from business people, the gentry to visiting middle-class families that Lawrence clearly knew well. He’d also outlined two months of publicising the event through posters, pamphlets and advertisements in shops, music halls and theatres throughout the city.
Excitement bubbled inside her. There was no way the Society could achieve Lawrence’s ambitious plans without his help and input. Slowly, she lowered the papers to her lap. ‘Are you sure about this? It seems an awfully large amount of work. Can you really spare the time?’
‘I’ll make time. I want to do this, Esther. I want to make a difference to the Cause. It’s not enough for me to stand in the background any more. I also want this for you.’
She ran her gaze over his handsome face, his dark hair and perfectly trimmed moustache and short beard. Her heart stumbled at the look of hope and determination burning in his eyes. He was sincere, genuine and she was deeply grateful.
Smiling, she nodded. ‘Then I would love to work on this with you once the Coronation is over and I’ve spoken to the other members of the Society. We can’t go forward with these plans until the women have taken a vote and we’re all in agreement. Considering the extent of what you’re proposing, and more ideas that myself and the group might come up with, we’ll need all the help we can get.’
‘I agree, which is why I was going to ask if you are happy for me to enlist further help. Do you remember those three chambermaids I spoke of?’
She nodded.
‘Well, I mentioned the auction to them and asked if they would like a hand in helping. As promotion. They are thrilled and, fingers crossed, I’m hoping the auction and the Cause will prove a big enough distraction that there will be no more repeats of them being ejected from any clubs in town.’
Esther laughed. ‘Busy hands?’
‘Exactly.’
She looked again to the notes, excitement bubbling inside her ‘Why don’t we aim for three months from now for the auction? If we host it in September and it goes well, we could then think about a ball in time for Christmas.’ She grinned. ‘A ball in your hotel would be fantastic and appeal to so many people.’
‘You’re right. Who doesn’t like a ball at Christmastime? I’m sure we’ll sell all the tickets we decide upon.’
She closed the folder and handed it back to him, grateful for all he had planned to help her. How wrong she’d been about him when they’d first met. It had been a mistake she’d never make again.
He raised his hand. ‘That’s for you. I have a copy, too. Show it to the Society ladies, take some minutes or notes and then we can reconvene and come up with a definitive plan after the Coronation. Now, I’m going to insist you stay for afternoon tea, even if it is a little early. You cannot have your first time in The Phoenix without taking tea.’
Smiling, she raised her hands in surrender. ‘Then I’ll have to stay.’
He tipped her a wink and walked to the door, pausing with his hand on the knob. ‘I’ll be right back.’
Once the door closed behind him, Esther collapsed back on the settee, unable to wipe away her smile. He was making it harder and harder to fight the feelings rising and swelling inside her. Every time she was with him, spoke to him, laughed with him, her heart fell a little deeper.
She wanted to work with Lawrence, spend time with him, whilst forging a path to aid the Cause and all the women of the country. She couldn’t help but believe that, side by side, she and Lawrence would be a formidable team. Of course, whether or not she could keep her personal feelings for him from mixing with the professional was a different matter.
Eighteen
The following week in Pennington’s basement department, Esther stood back from her latest window design and surveyed the sketch with a critical eye as her staff chattered and worked around her. The proposed design was good. Very good. In fact, she was more than a little embarrassed that it had taken Elizabeth pointing out Esther’s failings to make her realise her previous work had been woefully below par.
Laying down her pencil, Esther walked into the store cupboard and breathed deep, enjoying the comfort of knowing her work was something she excelled at, that she could successfully execute time and again. Something that held the power to make her happy.
Running her hand over the bolts of material and netting, she considered which props would work best when displayed with Homeware’s latest pots and pans. The domesticity in front of her turned her mind once again to Lawrence and his children.
The depth of her growing fondness for them was frightening. Made her accept just how easily a person could be seduced by the notion of familial bliss.
She had yet to come across proof that such a thing truly existed.
Her heart and soul were so deeply embedded in her work at the store and at the Society, she worried that she might disappoint his children in the future. Love seemed to come with unspecified parameters, rules and expectations that were little more than chains preventing a person from reaching their true potential. How could she promise to be all she could for him, Rose and Nathanial when she wasn’t entirely sure she’d ever manage to be all she was meant to be herself?
The anger in her father’s gaze and the livid disapproval in his expression had cut to her core when she’d thought he loved her mother and, although never active, respected her fight for the vote. But the day he’d ejected Esther from his home, with Viola gleefully looking on, it was as though he could not bear to look at his daughter and his cruel, dismissive words still rang in Esther’s ears, perpetually clawing at her heart.
‘You are little more than a harlot. Parading yourself around the streets and drawing attention from anyone who cares to look at you. A disgrace is what you are. A complete disgrace to me and your poor stepmother. I want you out and never come back.’
Tears burned behind her eyes and Esther dug her fingers into the cushion beside her. Her mother had died from influenza years before and her father had barely grieved his wife of twenty years before marrying the much-younger Viola and moving her into their home. Within months of Esther and Viola living in strained coexistence, her stepmother had fallen pregnant with Benedict, quickly followed by little Peter. Esther had found herself the older sister to two young boys who each took a piece of her heart when they’d been born so innocently into a household that felt strained and unhomely.
Until she’d met Lawrence, Esther was of the absolute conviction that a man could not survive more than a few weeks alone. Now, he’d shaken that belief and it terrified her. How was she to deny the admiration and respect she had for Lawrence’s dedication and love of his children?
Pulling a bolt of crimson satin from one of the many wooden cubbyholes lining the storeroom, Esther carried it into the main area of the department, determined to focus on her work. She placed the material next to her design and searched the room for Amelia. She spotted her at the far end of the room sorting through the various garments hanging on a brass rack.
Approaching her young assistant, Esther stopped at Amelia’s side and flipped through the jacket and skirt combinations in a variety of pale pinks, blues and ivory. ‘These are excellent selections, Amelia. Just the right colours to promote the new summer collections. Well done.’
‘Thank you.’ Amelia smiled briefly before she turned to the rack. ‘I wasn’t sure about the hats and shoes. Did you want something traditional? Only, I thought Miss Pennington might like the idea of promoting lines that didn’t sell very well through the spring. Mr Carter’s designs and the materials he used for the
spring collection could easily be worn and enjoyed through July and, possibly, August. It’s just an idea. If you think—’
‘I think that’s an excellent idea.’ Esther gently laid her hand on Amelia’s shoulder. ‘Don’t ever hold back with your suggestions. If Miss Pennington thought for one minute I wasn’t encouraging my team’s innovation, she’d send me out the door. Pennington’s is all about progression, excitement and new opportunities. I think a last attempt at pushing the older merchandise would be welcomed by Miss Pennington and Mr Carter.’
Amelia’s shoulders lowered and she smiled. ‘Shall I head up to the ladies’ and men’s departments now and discuss with the heads which lines haven’t sold as well as we’d hoped?’
‘Absolutely. I need to go outside, so why don’t we walk out together?’
As they left the department, Esther stole a glance at Amelia. Every now and then, she became momentarily threatened by Amelia’s enthusiasm and talent. Esther’s insecurities were shaming and had absolutely nothing to do with Amelia or her work. She was an ally rather than competition. A fellow woman doing her utmost to forge forwards in what was still very much a man’s world. In fact, Amelia was just the sort of young woman the Society needed to recruit. Quiet, yet hardworking and ambitious, she would suit the suffragists perfectly.
Esther halted at the bottom of the grand staircase. ‘Can I ask you a question, Amelia?’
Amelia turned on the bottom step. ‘Of course.’
‘Have you any interest in the women’s suffrage bill?’
‘Well, yes. Yes, I have. The pictures in the newspapers never fail to snag my attention whenever I see them.’
‘But you have no wish to be part of the fight?’
‘I agree with what the women are trying to do, but…’ Amelia frowned and came down the step to stand closer to Esther. She lowered her voice. ‘Some of the things these women are doing look incredibly dangerous. They say arrests are happening all the time.’
A Rebel at Pennington’s Page 13
