Love on Assignment (38 page)

Missy touched his arm with a hand as lethal as a burning ember. He yanked his arm away. “Stop this, Miss LeBeau.”

“Surely you must want me as a woman, professor.” She snuggled into his side, pressing against him.

Daniel shook his head as he took a step back toward Spring Creek. “That's ridiculous. You've made a dreadful mistake and so have I. I never should have come here.”

His stomach roiled. He should have given more credence to Charlotte's warning, yet he assumed she misunderstood Missy's intentions. But Charlotte had just proven herself a shrewd woman and he'd proven himself a stupid man. Yet feigning an interest in faith still came as a surprise. “I'm afraid I must leave.”

“No, please, Professor, don't go. Please forgive me. I realize my feelings shock you, but you'll grow accustomed to them if you give us a chance. I do love you with all my heart, and I know you'll learn to love me as well.” She faced him, her face shining. “Don't turn from me.”

He glanced toward the lodge, wishing his gig was close by. Straining his eyes, he could only make out the shadows of swaying tree branches. Then somehow she'd maneuvered in front of him and stopped his progress. Without saying a word, Missy wrapped her arms around his neck and stretched up to kiss him. He pried her arms apart. “You must stop, Miss LeBeau. This instant.” He heard a note of panic in his voice he'd never heard before.

She entangled her arms around his neck once again and clamped her hands tighter, rolled up on the balls on her feet and pushed her face toward his. He recoiled, but her hands cupped the back of his head from behind and shoved it forward. Then she smashed her mouth into his and splattered him with a wet kiss.

He perceived a rustling in the woods, and then came a flash and a pop. Breaking free, Daniel wrenched his head away and glimpsed a young man with a camera running down the path toward the lodge.

“What do you think you're doing?” Daniel yelled.

The photographer was several yards ahead by the time Daniel spotted a woman coming directly at the fellow.

Charlotte?

CHARLOTTE SAW DANIEL staving off Missy's advances and then Jesse Miller's camera pointed right at them. Holding up the front of her damp skirt, Charlotte sprinted toward the man she'd known from her earliest days at the
Rhode Island Reporter
. Jesse saw her coming toward him and paused before plunging into the brush. If she didn't hurry, he'd vanish into the dense woods and escape. Tomorrow's edition of the newspaper would blast a photograph of Professor Daniel Wilmont, defender of religion and morality, kissing one of his young and innocent students. Charlotte envisioned the headlines. B
IBLE
T
EACHER
C
AUGHT IN THE
A
CT
.

Spurred on by the injustice of Mr. Phifer's scheme, Charlotte plunged into the woods after Jesse. A small man with short legs, he could hardly run any faster than she could. Increasing her stride, Charlotte closed the gap between them. Her breath rose from the bottom of her lungs that burned with each labored gasp. She kept running deeper and deeper into the woods.

The light grew dimmer as the foliage overhead arched to form an almost impenetrable canopy. Shards of gray light barely filtered through. Still he plunged forward. As Jesse's figure faded, Charlotte listened for the sound of his thrashing through low, tangled brush. He was probably escaping toward the carriage hidden among the trees.

Just as she thought her lungs might burst, the woods opened to a clearing by the far side of the duck pond. Now in plain sight, Jesse ran only a few feet ahead of her. With a burst of speed, Charlotte grabbed for the back of his coat and yanked him off balance. He slid on a patch of wet leaves and sprawled into thorny bushes, yelping like a hound. The camera slid from his grasp and crashed into a tree trunk. She scooped up the camera and rushed toward the water.

“Halt, Charlotte Hale.” A familiar voice boomed from behind a thick oak.

Charlotte thought her heart might stop when she heard Mr. Phifer's authoritative tone. She stopped to stare at him, large and commanding like an army general, standing in his perfectly pressed business suit. “Give me that camera. It belongs to the
Rhode Island Reporter
.”

Charlotte hesitated as Mr. Phifer took a step forward and Jesse stirred. A few seconds later Daniel, followed by Missy, appeared in the clearing.

“What is going on?” Daniel demanded, his gaze sliding from Charlotte to Arnie Phifer.

Then Charlotte saw the bewilderment clouding Daniel's eyes switch to understanding and then horror. He stared at her with pain she hoped to never see. An apology caught in her throat. She hung her head until out of the corner of her eye she spotted a figure drawing closer. She gasped as Jesse lunged at her. With his arm raised in the air, he swatted the camera, but her grip was too strong to dislodge it. Spinning around she darted for the pond, Jesse at her heels. The noise of his footsteps thudded in her ear.

Charlotte swung her arm back and with all her strength hurled the camera into the middle of the water. It hit with a soft splash and sank out of sight.

“You destroyed private property,” Arnie Phifer screamed, his composure gone. “How dare you do this to me, Charlotte Hale. You'll be facing charges when we return to town.”

Jesse stared at his prized piece of equipment, lost forever. Missy leaned against a tree, for once silent and wringing her hands. Charlotte didn't care about the reactions of any of them except Daniel. As she turned to look at him, he turned away and started tromping through the brush toward the dirt path, his back bent and shoulders hunched. He didn't even want to look at her. Charlotte dashed after him, but Edith Ann appeared from behind a tree and grabbed her sleeve.

“You ruined everything, Charlotte. I set this up perfectly with Missy and you had to interfere.”

“What do you mean?”

“I convinced Missy if we could get a photograph of her kissing Professor Wilmont, then he'd feel obligated to marry her. He wouldn't want to destroy her reputation. She would've gotten her man, and I would've had my angle on the story for Phifer. But then you had to jump in. What is wrong with you?”

Speechless, Charlotte whipped her arm away and then dashed after the professor. She caught up to him down the road, panting. “Daniel, I'm so sorry. Can we talk?” Maybe she should leave him alone until he recovered from the alarming surprise of Arnie Phifer's plan and her part in it.

Daniel halted his long strides and faced her. “You were a part of Arnie Phifer's scheme, weren't you? Don't bother to deny it. As for talking, is there really anything to talk about?” He looked more numb than angry and his flat tone of voice reflected his shock.

“I could try to explain, but I simply have no excuse for deceiving you. I know it's a meaningless gesture, but I truly regret every moment I worked for Mr. Phifer. He sent me to Summerhill to spy on you, but I quit a few days ago. That's what I tried to explain last night.”

The sadness in his eyes stabbed her with the depth of guilt she'd never felt before and hoped she never would again. She so wanted Daniel's respect—and love—and yet her shameful behavior ensured he'd never feel anything but contempt.

“Why did you conspire with Arnie Phifer?” he asked as he slowly walked toward Spring Creek Lodge, his head hanging low.

She blew out a long, dreary sigh. “I was only a typist, but he promised me advancement and a better salary if I found information to discredit you. I needed money to pay for my sister's doctor bills and the new roof. As soon as I came to know you, I began to regret my decision to take the assignment. And then, when I realized he was willing to lie, I quit my job at the
Rhode Island Reporter
. I knew I'd made a dreadful mistake. I never imagined he'd go to such lengths to ruin you.”

“So this is the sin you tried to tell me about.”

“Yes,” she answered, her voice unsteady.

Daniel shook his head slowly as if he still couldn't quite comprehend what had just occurred. “I never once suspected you were on assignment for Arnie Phifer.”

Tears streamed down Charlotte's cheeks. “I'm so sorry, Daniel. I wanted to tell you, but I didn't know how. I just couldn't find the courage.”

He looked unmoved by her feeble explanation. The corners of his mouth pulled down and his turquoise eyes filled with grief.

“I feel awful about this, terribly guilty and terribly sorry.” Charlotte hesitated, but she just had to ask. “Do you think you can ever find it in your heart to forgive me? I don't mean returning to where we were headed.” She couldn't even utter the word
love
because now even affection was utterly impossible. “I mean just plain forgiving me.”

Daniel looked like he was trying to smile, but his effort failed. “I do forgive you,” he said in a monotone that belied his words. Forgiving her was one thing, but starting over was quite another. His anger and hurt wouldn't evaporate just by mouthing the words. He'd never feel the same way about her again and she couldn't blame him.

“Thank you for forgiving me,” she said, choking on her tears. It was hopeless, but at least he was trying.

They reached Spring Creek Lodge and stood awkwardly by Daniel's horse and carriage. “Would you like a ride back to Summerhill?” he asked without enthusiasm.

“No thank you. I'll ride my bicycle.”

He shrugged, obviously not willing to press her.

“As soon as I return to Summerhill, I'll gather my things and leave.”

Standing by the gig, he seemed reluctant to depart. “I suppose you found Sarah's journal and read it.”

Charlotte's face heated. “Yes, but I didn't breathe a word of it to Mr. Phifer.”

Daniel sighed. “Thank you.”

He sounded genuinely grateful and Charlotte felt a few moments of relief. But she still had more to explain. “When I failed to find anything dishonorable about you, Mr. Phifer sent over my so-called cousin Penelope Smith to take my place. She's actually Edith Ann Wengle, the other woman who'd like to be a reporter.”

“Thank you for that, as well. I'm certain she would've found something Phifer could have used against me even if he had to twist the truth.”

“Or plant evidence,” Charlotte added.

Daniel nodded. “I wouldn't put anything past him.”

“Nor would I.”

“By the way, I'm going to pay for the camera you threw in the pond.”

She almost smiled. “You don't have to, but thank you.”

“No, I shall.”

He paused. “Tell me, Charlotte, was your accepting the Lord real or did you merely pretend?”

She touched his arm for only a moment. “It was real. I understood I couldn't be a part of Mr. Phifer's plan anymore, so I quit my job. But I wasn't brave enough to insist you listen to the truth. I knew you'd hate me.”

“No, I could never hate you. What you did was unethical, but I do forgive you.”

Whether he admitted it or not, he'd turned away from her.

Finally, to break the impasse, Charlotte spoke up. “I'm so sorry for all the pain I've caused.” She stretched up and gave him a peck on the cheek. “Well, good-bye, Daniel.” She spun around and rushed down the driveway toward Bolling Hill Road before Daniel had a chance to respond.

TWENTY-FOUR

C
harlotte peddled back to Summerhill, exhausted from the ride. She trudged up to her bedroom, washed up, and changed into clean, dry clothes. Then she carried her valise down the back stairway.

“Mr. Grimes, would you mind calling a cab for me?” she asked the butler.

He shook his head. “Professor Wilmont insists his coachman drive you home. I'll have him bring the carriage around.”

“Thank you.” Too tired to argue, she went to look for Mrs. Finnegan in the housekeeper's office. She glanced up from her accounts. “Come in and sit a spell. Mrs. Wilmont told me you quit. Would you be willing to tell me why?'Tis unexpected and unwelcome news, I might add.”

“I'm sorry to leave you in the lurch with so much packing to do,” Charlotte said from the doorway.

The old Irish woman shook her head. “I've plenty of help to do the packing. When the professor came home a short time ago, I saw his chin dragging down to the floor. Would you be knowing why?”

Charlotte groaned. “Yes. I'm afraid it's all my fault.”

“Do you want to tell me about it?”

Those round eyes showed so much compassion Charlotte couldn't resist. She poured out her story and Mrs. Finnegan didn't flinch.

“You did an awful thing spying for that newspaper, but you did what you thought you had to do for your family. Not that it was right, mind you. But I understand sometimes we don't live up to the high standards we set for ourselves. It was a grievous sin you committed, but you're a good girl at heart. I know you never meant harm to the poor man.”