“Grandmother doesn’t like many people, but I’m sure she’ll learn to love Miss Hale, just as we do,” Ruthie said, exuding the confidence of a young girl.
“We should hope and pray she’ll soften.”
But Daniel didn’t really believe his own words. His mother disapproved of any woman she didn’t choose, and she’d especially dislike a governess joining the family. Still, though her blessing and good wishes weren’t necessary, he’d try to persuade her to accept Charlotte.
Ruthie planted her fists on her straight hips. “I know the Lord wants you to marry Miss Hale. I asked Him and He said yes in my heart.” Ruthie’s eyes were so round and earnest Daniel had to smile and even absorb some of her optimism.
“We’ll see, pumpkin.” Daniel clasped his hands behind his back and gazed out to sea.
“You can’t wait forever, Papa, or you’ll miss the moment.” Ruthie breathed out a dramatic sigh. “Remember, you’re supposed to do what God wants, according to His perfect timing. And He told me His perfect timing is right now—well, not in so many words, but I got His message.”
Daniel laughed. “And now I have it too. Go play before the fog rolls in.” As Ruthie sprinted back to her sand castle—already dissolving into the encroaching tide—Daniel sat on the rock and ran his fingers through his windblown hair.
Ruthie was right. He should ask Charlotte to marry him. With no time to waste, he needed to propose as soon as possible and pray she’d accept an unemployed professor with no job prospects. Somehow they’d manage to get along, though without the frills his mother and children were used to.
He’d married the first time to please his mother, but now he’d choose his own wife. His union with Sarah had buried them both in misery. Mismatched, they reached out for each other, yet never touched, except physically. And that wasn’t enough to satisfy either of them. But Charlotte’s smile banished his resolution to remain single. She’d flung open the locked door of his heart and stepped inside, bringing sunshine and joy. Her objections didn’t deter him. She admitted her affection and that’s what mattered most. They’d work out their problems, large and small, and then she’d agree to his proposal. Despite her reservations, she was sure to come around.
It was well past time to close the chapter of his life with Sarah and open a new one with Charlotte.
CHARLOTTE RUSHED ACROSS the lawn into the cool deserted kitchen. Voices rose and fell from the direction of the pantry. Chef Jacques was scolding one of the kitchen maids. Relieved no one was in the servants’ hall, she dropped onto a ladder-back chair set around the long table. She waited for her chest to quit heaving, but she couldn’t relax. She needed time alone to collect her thoughts and decipher how much Daniel’s kiss had altered their relationship. They’d stepped over the line separating employee from employer. Why hadn’t she pushed him away? Instead she’d reveled in his affection, just one kiss before I say good-bye ringing through her head. Yet she should’ve discouraged his advances.
She buried her head in her hands. She couldn’t concentrate on anything but the kiss from the man she loved yet could never have—because of her secret and her own sinfulness. Unshed tears of regret burned her eyes. She closed them tight and recalled the taste of his lips and the scent of his sun-brushed skin. A long groan escaped from her throat.
“Now who could that be, moaning so loud?”
Charlotte startled as Mrs. Finnegan bustled into the room.
“My word, you’re about to cry. Something’s gone wrong, hasn’t it? I’m all ears if you’d like a good talk.” She squinted with sympathy as she dropped into the chair across the table.
Charlotte shook her head. Sniffing back tears, she answered, “I appreciate your concern, but I’m all right.”
“A nice cold glass of lemonade might help.” Mrs. Finnegan heaved herself up.
“Yes, please, if you don’t mind.”
Mrs. Finnegan soon returned from the kitchen with two tall glasses and sat at the table across from Charlotte. She leaned forward, her hands folded on the tablecloth. “Now tell me, what’s the matter, dearie? It’s the Wilmonts, isn’t it? The professor wouldn’t upset a soul, so it must be his mother. How are you and Mrs. Wilmont getting on?”
“She doesn’t like me one bit.” Heat scorched Charlotte’s face as she recalled all the cutting remarks she’d endured when she really wanted to defend herself and throw her silly little doily cap at her. Or even better, strangle her with the cap’s streamers.
Leaning closer, the housekeeper lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “I’ve worked me fingers to the bone for Mrs. Wilmont for over thirty years. And she still doesn’t appreciate my efforts.” She chuckled and then waved in dismissal. “But it doesn’t matter one way or t’other. Wouldn’t I be in sad shape if it did? She’s a tough old hen, but I try not to ruffle her feathers. I do me work best I can, and mind me own business. We get along fine that way.”
“You mean I shouldn’t take her criticisms to heart?” Charlotte gave a lopsided smile. She couldn’t imagine ignoring such a nasty lady for more than thirty years.
“I mean just that. Do your chores and don’t fret if you can’t please her. Some people are born complainers and won’t bother to change.” Mrs. Finnegan flashed crooked teeth. “Don’t you know she suffered from her husband’s neglect. Shameful, he was. The man never came home when he could stay away. Hoarded his money too. No wonder the missus turned bitter. He broke her heart.”
“That’s dreadful,” Charlotte admitted with grudging sympathy. Yet an unhappy marriage didn’t justify her sour disposition and mean spirit.
Mrs. Finnegan sipped her lemonade. “Mr. Wilmont owned several stove-making factories, so he was in a position to give his wife all she wanted. But he held everything back.”
“He sounds like an old miser.”
“That he was. He willed the business to his son, Edgar, but he neglected to leave much to the rest of the family. Of course a million or two dollars is a fortune to most folks, but to Mrs. Wilmont, it was a slap in the face. Seems the randy gentleman had a woman on the side with extravagant tastes. She squandered most of his fortune on trinkets for herself. But enough gossip.” Mrs. Finnegan set her lips tight.
“I can see Mrs. Wilmont was mistreated, but still, that’s no excuse for her attitude.”
“Tis’nt, to be sure. But it’s why she’s like she is. She’s a hard woman to please, especially if she doesn’t take to you.”
The sound of footsteps in the hallway diverted Charlotte’s attention. She glanced up to find the professor dressed in a fresh white shirt and tan trousers. A frown squeezed his brow until he spotted Mrs. Finnegan, then his mouth curved into a smile.
Mrs. Finnegan’s cheeks puffed with pleasure. “Good afternoon, sir. Is there something I can be getting for you?”
“My mother would like a cup of tea, please.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll have it sent up right away.” Mrs. Finnegan headed for the kitchen.
“Where are Tim and Ruthie? I ought to get them cleaned up,” Charlotte said, avoiding Daniel’s steady gaze. Their wet clothes would dribble sand and salt water throughout the house and give Mrs. Wilmont a good excuse to complain—not that she needed one.
“I sent them upstairs to wash,” Daniel said, hovering, as if reluctant to leave.
“I’ll go right up.” Charlotte swallowed the last drops of her icy drink and rose. She edged around him and up the stairs, feeling the heat of his gaze until she disappeared into the cool of the stairwell.
TWENTY
The next afternoon, Daniel and his mother hosted a luncheon for the Grails and several friends. Chef Jacques outdid himself with his French specialties, but Daniel had no appetite for rich cream sauces. Later, after most of the guests departed, Jack took him aside. “Shall we talk a little business?”
Mrs. Wilmont and Mr. McClintock led Lilly into the drawing room while Daniel and Jack adjourned to the library. They puffed cigars and settled in wing chairs by a crac
kling fire that burned off the chill.
Jack leaned forward. “Have you considered my offer to write a column for the Manhattan Sentinel?”
“Yes, and I accept gladly.” Daniel explained President Ralston’s ultimatum and his own answer. “So far I haven’t heard from any of the colleges or boys’ schools I’ve contacted, and since I’m so late applying, I’m not optimistic.”
Jack took a puff on his cigar. “Would you be interested in working for me in New York? We have positions open on either the newspaper or magazine. Or would you prefer the publishing house? All three are doing well, I’m pleased to say. I’m in dire need of management and editorial help.”
Jack mentioned a salary that Daniel thought more than generous, certainly larger than he required to support his family and servants. How could he turn down Jack’s offer? “I certainly do appreciate your kindness.”
“But—”
“I’m a teacher. I have no experience in publishing.”
Jack dismissed Daniel’s doubts with a wave of his cigar. “You’ll learn quickly.”
“Then I accept. And thank you.” Daniel nodded with as much enthusiasm as he could rally. Relief mixed with regret.
“You can begin at Jones and Jarman, my publishing house, if that appeals to you. When can you start?”
“In a few weeks, as soon as the semester ends. I’m really grateful for the opportunity, yet I’m afraid no one in the family wishes to move.”
“I understand why they’d rather stay in Newport.” Jack sent him a sympathetic nod. “It’s a beautiful place, though rather dreary in winter, I hear.”
Daniel drummed his fingers on the arm of the chair and blew out a sigh. “That’s true, but this has been our home for several years, so it’s difficult to leave.” Daniel hoped he didn’t sound as grim as he felt.
He’d prayed—actually stormed heaven—that a position would turn up locally. But perhaps moving away was God’s answer to his problem. A crucial question remained—could he convince Charlotte to come along, not as a governess, but as his wife? They’d simply have to find a way to care for her aunt and sister from afar.
After Jack and Lilly left, Daniel gathered his family, Mr. McClintock, and Charlotte into the drawing room. As he scrutinized all the anxious faces, his spirits sank.
Hands clasped behind his back, he paced between the long windows framed with velvet curtains, then halted. “I have news about our future. I’ve accepted a position at Jackson Grail’s publishing house in New York. Unfortunately, we’ll have to move to the city.”
His mother’s soft groan and Charlotte’s sudden intake of breath made him pause. He scrutinized each unhappy face. “I’m so sorry, but I have no other choice. We’d all like to stay in Newport, myself included. But I’m afraid that’s not feasible. So let’s make the best of it and not complain—at least not too loudly or too long.” His halfhearted stab at optimism fell flat, even to his own ears.
Glancing toward Charlotte, he noticed her normally rosy complexion had faded to white. “I hope you’ll come with us. We need you.” With perspiration coating his neck and face, he waited for her reply to break his heart.
“Of course I’d like to stay with you.” Charlotte’s voice cracked as she gazed down at her clutched hands and avoided eye contact. If she cried, he knew he’d fall apart as well. But she steadied and said, “But I can’t. My aunt and my sister need me here.”
“May I have a word with you—alone?” Daniel asked, heading for the hallway and ignoring his mother’s harrumph. Even Mr. McClintock looked troubled as he reached for Vivian’s hand.
Daniel heard Charlotte’s footsteps as he strode down the hallway, passed through the foyer and down another hallway to the back veranda. Together they walked across the grass and out of his mother’s hearing range. Charlotte hung her head and hugged her chest against the damp air. A chilly breeze wracked him with shivers as well.
Stopping by the rocks at the edge of the sea, Daniel turned to face her. He gently lifted her chin so her troubled eyes met his own. Beneath the fading afternoon sunlight, her cheeks glimmered with tears.
“Please come with us, Charlotte. I understand why you feel you should stay in Newport, but instead, perhaps you could send your family money. And of course you’d visit often. New York isn’t really so far away.”
She shook her head and her upswept hair loosened, freeing strands of dark silk. “It’s more than just supporting Aunt Amelia and Becky. Please. I’ll tell you what is holding me back . . . later.”
“Tell me now,” he said lowly.
“Papa!” Tim came tearing around the corner. “Why do we have to move, Papa? I want to stay here.”
Charlotte gave Daniel a long look. “Later,” she repeated in a whisper. And then she walked away.
THAT EVENING AT seven o’clock Charlotte slipped off to her bedroom, her every nerve on edge. She searched her wardrobe for something appropriate to wear to the Coastal Inn with Daniel. She’d accepted his invitation to dine so she’d have enough privacy to confess. No one had ever invited her to a fancy dinner, so she owned nothing suitable, though funereal black might be best considering the reason she’d accepted Daniel’s invitation. Charlotte sighed, wishing the whole ordeal was over and she was safely back home with Becky and Aunt Amelia.
Well, appropriate or not, she refused to wear black, for she was neither a real servant nor an elegant lady. She put on her new cream-colored blouse and peered at her reflection in the mirror above her bureau. Her aunt’s lovely creation complemented her ecru skirt, her one and only dressy garment. At least she wouldn’t appear shabby and cause the other diners to stare.
A knock on the door startled her. “Charlotte, it’s me. Grace. Please let me in. I only have a minute.”
Charlotte opened the door and Grace burst into the room.
“Oh my, don’t you look grand. But that old straw hat of yours won’t do. Wait here and I’ll fetch my new one. I bought it at the milliners at the end of the season last year.”
She rushed out and quickly returned with a flowered hat with pale blue chiffon swirling around the crown. Positioning it on Charlotte’s head, Grace examined it with a critical eye. “Perfect.”
“Thank you so much.” Charlotte gazed in the mirror, surprised at a reflection she hardly recognized. “I actually feel pretty.” Which was not the impression she ought to convey to Daniel. She should look presentable, not fancy or too feminine.
“The entire staff knows you’re going to dinner with the professor. They’re all abuzz.”
Charlotte winced as she pulled on her gloves. “News travels fast around Summerhill.”
“Indeed, it does. One of the parlor maids overheard the professor arguing with his mother over it. But don’t let Mrs. Wilmont ruin your evening. Enjoy yourself, Charlotte. Do tell me all about it when you come home.”
Charlotte dropped onto her bed and let a groan escape from her lips. “I’m going to confess something important to the professor tonight. I can’t talk here very freely with so many prying eyes and ears.”
Grace looked at her with obvious curiosity, but she didn’t ask any questions. “I’ll pray everything will work out.” Grace touched Charlotte’s hands and squeezed tight.
“Thank you. I’ll explain the entire story when I return. I’d best go now.”
TAKING A DEEP breath, Charlotte descended the front staircase and met Daniel in the foyer. Dressed in a starched white shirt with black tie and coat, he carried a silk top hat. His blue-green eyes were lit with an inner warmth that for a moment stole her breath along with her resolve. How could she hurt this wonderful man? Together they stepped outside into the glow of early evening. The carriage and coachman awaited them. Charlotte’s hands perspired in her gloves as she clutched the strings of her reticule. “It’s a grand evening,” she rasped in an unsteady voice. Birds chirped in the gently swaying branches, waves broke against the rocks, a breeze hummed.
His eyes sparkled as he surveyed her outfit, and t
hen a small smile broadened into a wide grin. “You look lovely.”
Her cheeks flamed. “Thank you.” She tried to steel herself against his compliment.
He took her by the arm and helped her down the veranda steps and into the carriage.
Ruthie and Tim appeared from around the bushes. “Enjoy your dinner.” Ruthie giggled.
Charlotte and Daniel waved to his children. He leaned toward her and murmured, “I’m afraid my children are getting carried away. When I told Tim we were having dinner together, he snickered. But Ruthie jumped up and down and clapped.”
Charlotte smiled. She tried to stay calm, but her nerves were prickling like porcupine quills. She’d never been to a swanky dinner with a man before. She wished he’d chosen a more informal spot where he wouldn’t be recognized and where she’d feel more comfortable in her pretty but inexpensive clothing. Her mind kept straying from her upcoming task—to tell Daniel the truth. All she could think about was his arm brushing against hers and his soft voice so close to her ear. He looked cool and composed except for a trickle of moisture that formed a liquid mustache over his upper lip. He understood an employer simply didn’t dine in public with his servant, but she respected him for defying snobbery. He seemed to be handling this awkward situation with great aplomb.
They kept up a steady stream of small talk until they reached the Coastal Inn, a white clapboard hotel and restaurant set behind tall hedges and shaded by towering maples. The back lawn faced the Cliff Walk and the sea. As they neared the front porch lined with a profusion of shrubs and blue hydrangeas, Charlotte’s heart fluttered.
Once inside the dining room, the waiter led them to a table overlooking the back lawn bathed in gathering shadows. As she and Daniel lowered onto gilded chairs, Charlotte heard the steady hum of the cultured voices punctuated by the crackle of a fire in the fireplace. If only she could enjoy the ambiance of dancing candlelight and crystal chandeliers. Jeweled women in silks and satins might make her feel out of place ordinarily, but tonight she scarcely noticed. Instead, she focused on the man she was soon to hurt.
Love on Assignment Page 24
