‘I have enough finance to keep myself and the children in everything we need for the rest of our lives. Maybe even my grandchildren’s lives. I need nothing from you or this estate.’
Her cheeks darkened, and her eyes narrowed. ‘You will carry out my dying wish. You will marry Mae and live here with Harriet. It is your duty to bring your children back to their true place. To teach Nathanial to be a landowner and Lord.’
‘No.’ Lawrence glared as Esther’s strength and care seeped into his soul, giving him all the power and determination he needed to sever his mother’s control once and for all. If Esther could fight to be all she was meant to be, he could, too. ‘I’m truly happy for the first time in my life. I’ll not surrender that for you, for Culford, not even for Harriet, if it means I have to live in this house. My door will always be open to my sisters, but that door will not be to this manor.’
His pulse beat in his ears and his shoulders ached with tension.
His mother’s cold gaze travelled over his face and person until she lifted her eyes to his. ‘Then I’ll instruct everything to be sold and bequeath every crown to charity.’
Lawrence stared, entrapment closing in on him. ‘You can’t do that. This is Harriet’s home. We have tenants. People who rely on the land—’
‘It is mine to do with as I will.’ Her eyes burned with spite. ‘If you have no care for—’
‘I might not care for the house, but I do care for our tenants, the farmers who rely on our land to feed their families.’
‘Then it is them you should think of now. It is nothing short of selfish that you left this house and never came back. Your father needed you to continue with his work when he became ill. He spent his entire life teaching you how—’
‘Yes, with violence, torment and degradation. He wasn’t a teacher, he was a tyrant.’
‘Nonsense. If it wasn’t for McIntyre, the groundsman and every other member of staff I’ve relied upon, the tenants you claim to care about would’ve been without their homes and work a long time ago. How dare you stand there and tell me of your worry for them after a seven-year absence.’
Shame and culpability wound tightly inside him. He could not deny his mother spoke the truth. Cornelia and Harriet had kept him informed of things at the Manor. David often visiting the estate to ensure his mother had all she needed so things ran smoothly. Now David had gone to pursue a new life with a new woman. Who would pick up the reins? Claustrophobia gripped him. How could he leave and allow the men and women who relied on Culford to fear for their homes and livelihood? Men and women with families and young children to love and raise without fear of where their next meal might come from.
He glared at his mother, despising the quiet triumph in her eyes. ‘Why not just give the house and estate to Cornelia and Harriet? They know more about the day-to-day running of the place than I do. They will be perfectly capable of overseeing everything with the support of the staff.’
‘Harriet needs to marry well and bear children, as Cornelia has done. They were not raised to run Culford, and well you know it. You were raised to be here, sire heirs and continue the family name.’
Lawrence curled his hands into fists. The house, staff and land were the only things Harriet really loved. Their mother selling Culford would be a spiteful blow to her youngest daughter. One for which Lawrence was entirely convinced Harriet would forever hold him responsible.
The longer he studied his mother, the more he concluded her claims were intended to goad him into staying rather than her belief the estate was where he truly belonged. Could he call her bluff? Make out that he no longer cared at all about its demise? The tenants or his sisters?
Bitterness coated his throat as he pulled back his shoulders. ‘So be it.’
His mother’s eyes lit with satisfaction. ‘You will stay?’
‘No.’
She glared. ‘No?’
‘Every Culford stone, every acre of land and piece of furniture is steeped in a poison that has run in my veins for years. If you wish to hurt Harriet this way, then sell the estate because I couldn’t give a damn.’
‘Don’t be a fool, Lawrence.’ His mother’s shaky voice rose. ‘It is your duty to run—’
‘I said no. I’ll stay here until the time of your passing and then I will leave and never come back. Speak to your solicitor. Speak to your banker. I hope to God they convince you to pass everything to Cornelia and Harriet. Let them be rich, Mother. Over my dead body will I become your puppet in death as I was in life.’
He whirled towards the door, his steps heavy and assured.
‘Don’t you dare walk away from me. I am your mother and I demand you show me your respect.’
Throwing a final look over his shoulder, Lawrence stormed through the doorway and onto the landing.
‘Lawrence! Come back here.’ His mother’s shout was overtaken with a bout of heart-rending wracks.
He pressed his spine to the wall then leaned forward, gripping his knees and trying to get his harried breathing under control. To break under the guilt and duty pressing down on him was not an option. How could he give up the life he’d built without help from his parents? How could he give up Esther when running an estate was so far from her life’s vision? But what of his sisters? What of the tenants and staff?
‘Lawrence?’ Harriet’s rapid footsteps padded across the landing. ‘What on earth is happening?’
He exhaled and straightened. ‘Go and see to her. I want nothing else to do with our mother.’
‘What did she say to you? Are you to inherit the house? The estate?’
Lawrence briefly closed his eyes against the panic in Harriet’s eyes. All she wanted was to stay here, in the place she’d been raised without violence. His mother was cruel to her core.
He touched his fingers to her cheek. ‘She’s threatening to sell everything.’
‘But…’ She glanced towards his mother’s door. ‘Please, Lawrence, don’t let her do that. What will I do? Where will I live?’
Resentment towards his mother burned in his chest. ‘Don’t let her have the final say, Harriet. Don’t let her torment you with emotion or blackmail. If she chooses to sell, I’m sure the money will be bequeathed to you and Cornelia. You’ll be wealthy and have choices. You can always live with me until you—’
‘I don’t want to live with you. I hate the city. I belong at Culford. This is my home. Where I feel the safest.’
The differences in their feelings towards the same place couldn’t be compared, but Lawrence felt nothing but sympathy for his youngest sister. Harriet had done everything her parents had demanded and enforced. Now, there was a possibility she’d have no money and be ejected from the place she forever wanted to be her home.
How could he be the hand that severed all she’d ever known and loved? Praying his mother didn’t hold true to her threat, Lawrence dropped Harriet’s fingers. ‘We’ll work things out. Just take one day at a time.’
‘But—’
‘Go and see her. Let’s get past her dying and then we’ll face whatever comes next.’
Her worried gaze travelled over his face before she nodded and turned, slowly approaching her mother’s door.
Lawrence watched her enter his mother’s room, before walking along the landing to the bedroom that had been his for many years. Anger and frustration poured through him and he slammed the door with such force a picture leapt from the wall onto the floor. He stared at the portrait that bore all his father’s trademarks.
It was Lawrence as a boy, painted with rosy cheeks, bright eyes and smiling.
An image forced from his father’s imagination. A fake. A misinterpretation of the life Lawrence once had here.
He slammed the heel of his boot into the glass, the crack and splinter finally breaking any hold his parents ever had over him.
Thirty-Nine
Three days had passed since Esther had last seen Lawrence, and every hour she missed him more. Standing in the basement depar
tment at Pennington’s, she stared at the mannequin in front of her. Rather than her focusing on her work or joining in the chatter of her colleagues as they sewed and pinned, her mind was filled with thoughts of the man she loved and how he fared with his mother in a place he despised.
She’d received a brief phone call from him the evening before unhappily telling her that he’d summoned for the children and Helen to join him at Culford. It seemed his plans to say his piece and return to Bath had been scuppered when he’d seen just how deathly ill his mother was. He could not find it in himself to walk away from his sisters a third time, leaving them to deal with their mother’s death.
So, he would remain in Oxfordshire until his mother died.
Her heart ached with love for him, every hour he was gone was another hour she missed him more. Her selfishness was abhorrent. He could hardly be blamed for her falling in love with him, for growing to care for him as she did.
They’d parted on good terms and she appreciated his dying mother should be his only priority. Now was not the right time for them to further deepen their romance. He had responsibilities that did not include her or the Cause. He had a responsibility to a family who were in real crisis. Whenever he returned to Bath, he should not feel he had to pursue the suffrage auction or ball in haste. The Cause could wait, if necessary.
No matter his feelings about his mother, Esther could not believe her death would not in some way affect him. She would do all she could to help him through this difficult time, but would it be enough when she rarely felt strong enough to care for her own heart? Lawrence came from a landed family and had duties to the estate, tenants and house she could only imagine.
Maybe she’d been foolish to spend the weeks contemplating what it would be like – feel like – to become a part of his wonderful family. To have daily time with Rose and Nathanial, to enjoy laughter and games as well as helping them through trying times.
Lawrence barely knew her, or she him.
Their hopes and declarations of a future together had often been said during their more intimate moments, when their responsibilities and commitments had felt a thousand miles away.
She’d surrendered her barriers and given him her heart, body and soul.
Pride for him swelled inside her. No matter what Lawrence felt about his mother, Rose and Nathanial would now have the opportunity of seeing where their father had been raised… albeit despicably. Was there a small chance that Lawrence might now consider that Culford was where he belonged?
She wouldn’t blame him if he came to see that she, a lowly shop worker, one who gave her opinions freely and passionately, who wore her heart on her sleeve, for better or worse, an activist… would hardly make a suitable wife for so successful a man. And what of his children? Would he really be happy with her opinions, thoughts and desires being spoken or demonstrated in front of them?
She thought not.
But all she could do was remain strong and pray Lawrence returned to her.
A lump rose in Esther’s throat and she snatched a pin from the cushion on her wrist to finish heightening the hem of the velvet skirt on the mannequin in front of her.
She stabbed the pin through the material and straight into her finger. ‘Damnation.’ She sucked at the glistening red blob that immediately broke and spread across her skin. ‘Now, look what I’ve done.’
‘Esther, are you all right?’
She straightened and took her finger from her mouth. ‘I’m fine, Amelia. My mind is so distracted today, I just managed to stick myself with a pin.’
Her colleague frowned. ‘Your distraction has been present for more than just today. You’ve been absent from Society meetings for over a week and even suggested to Miss Pennington I be given free rein for the new east window on top of the extra responsibilities I’ve already been given.’
Esther smiled. ‘Because you are worthy of the task. Not because I’m out of sorts.’
Amelia frowned, her gaze uncertain. ‘Are you sure there’s nothing I can do for you?’
Hating that she’d allowed her emotions to hover so close to the surface her colleagues had cause to notice, Esther walked to a chest of drawers and pulled out a kit containing an array of bandages and tape. Dabbing at her throbbing finger with a tissue, she quickly covered it and tied off the small piece of gauze.
‘I’m fine. I think I might leave a little early, though.’ She faced Amelia and glanced around the room where her team worked dressing mannequins or at sewing machines. ‘Some fresh air might help clear my head a little.’
‘Good idea. We’re only working on adjustments, rather than design or display work. If you can’t escape early today, when could you?’ Amelia smiled. ‘Let us hold the fort for a while. If Miss Pennington asks after you, I’ll say you left for an appointment.’
‘Thank you.’ Suddenly desperate to be away from the store and outside, Esther strode across the workroom and took her hat and purse from the wall hooks. ‘I’ll see you bright and early in the morning.’
She walked to the door and up the stairs until she entered the atrium. As usual, the shop floor teemed with people busy perusing and buying Pennington’s sought-after merchandise. The store’s signatory black and white bags were prevalent amongst the array of coloured outfits, sparkling counters, glittering perfume and jewellery. A soft violin concerto serenaded the floor as people meandered back and forth.
Satisfaction warmed her. No matter the doubts about her personal life, she hoped she’d always have Pennington’s in which to take pride and pleasure.
Heading to the double doors, she nodded to the doorman and walked onto the busy street. The late June sky was a perfect blue, the sun shining, basking people in its soft warmth.
Esther breathed deep. A perfect time for a walk.
With nowhere in particular to go, she headed towards Victoria Park.
The sun beat pleasantly against her face as she passed shops, hotels and the music hall. She continued to walk until a poster pasted to a wall snagged her attention. She stopped short.
Votes For Women! Join the Society today!
Amelia was right. Not attending the Society meetings was completely uncharacteristic of Esther. She’d thought of little else but Lawrence and his family since he’d left. How could she have neglected her passion and purpose for Pennington’s and the Society? These were the places where she was truly in her element. Where she spent time with like-minded men and women, who inspired and energised her very reason for being alive.
She turned, quickly sidestepping a horse and its rider as she hurried to the other side of the street. Ducking into the narrow alleyway that housed the Society’s meeting place, Esther passed the tightly packed shops which lined either side, lingering in perpetual semi-darkness. With each step, the mouth-watering smells of spices, baking bread and sweet pastries filled her nostrils, the cobblestones beneath her feet baked dry under the summer’s slowly rising temperatures.
Deeper and deeper, she ventured into the alleyway, until she came to a stop by the nondescript, darkly painted door between a haberdashery and an ironmonger, Esther glanced either way along the alleyway. Content she wasn’t being observed, she curled her knuckles and knocked out the secret code, apprehensive it would most certainly have changed since the usual practice was to create a new one each week.
Footsteps sounded, before a small opening in the door was pulled back and Louise’s deep brown eyes peered through. Her gaze immediately widened. ‘Esther! It’s so good to see you.’
Smiling, Esther waited for Louise to open the door and then stepped into her friend’s welcoming embrace. ‘I’m sorry for being away this past week.’
‘Don’t be silly.’ Louise released Esther and stood back. ‘I’m sure you had good reason. Come in. Quickly.’
Silently admonishing herself for showing such a lack of subterfuge, Esther quickly stepped inside.
Louise closed the door. ‘Come upstairs. You’ve arrived just in time.’
‘Fo
r what?’ Esther’s curiosity ran wild with possible ideas the group of women had put into place since she’d been away. ‘Have I missed a breakthrough?’
‘Unfortunately, not.’ Louise stopped outside a closed door and smiled sheepishly. ‘But I’ve called an unscheduled meeting to discuss some new plans.’
‘I can’t apologise enough for being away. I’ve had—’
‘Things going on.’ Louise touched Esther’s arm, her eyes kind. ‘Don’t be so hard on yourself. Obstacles and commitments are bound to come up for all of us, meaning we have to step away from time to time. The important thing is, you’re back and, hopefully, ready for our next strategy.’
Louise led Esther upstairs into the meeting room, the noise levels high at the table of gesturing, chattering women. Their fiery energy seeped into Esther’s stomach, and she embraced the excited tingling that followed.
It was here and at Pennington’s where she truly belonged.
Lawrence had sped her heart with his wonderful gaze, erotic touch and scorching kisses, but it was in this room and at the store she could make changes in an unforgiving world. No matter how much she hoped Lawrence would return to her and find a way to heal, he bore the scars of his childhood so deeply, she feared he never would.
‘Come and take a seat.’ Louise waved Esther to the table. ‘You have much to catch up with, but I hope you’ll cast your vote tonight after hearing what we have planned.’
Quickly discarding her jacket and hat, Esther hung them on the stand by the door and walked to the table. She leaned over Louise’s shoulder and eyed the detailed and meticulously drawn map laid out on its surface. Esther frowned. The road which led from The Circus, where Lawrence lived, to Royal Crescent had been drawn through with red pen.
The women’s voices whirled around her.
Fire.
Explosives.
Paraffin.
Unease whispered through Esther, raising the hairs on her arms. What on earth were they contemplating? Was the group turning militant? Nausea rose in her throat. The possibility of something violent unfolded in front of her and, in that moment, Esther knew with absolute certainty she could not take part in anything that would endanger another human being, no matter the Society’s struggles.
A Rebel at Pennington’s Page 28
