Pride, Prejudice, and Cheese Grits

by Hathaway, Mary Jane

  “Miss Bennet, I am shocked and astonished. I expected to find a more reasonable

  young woman.”

  -Lady Catherine

  Chapter Forty One

  She sat in the chair across from Finch, who shuffled his papers in a dramatic way. His gray hair was combed nicely and the usual murk on his glasses was wiped clean, as if he had groomed carefully for the starring role in her execution.

  Dean Richard Angle wore an expression akin to a patient in a dentist’s chair. He had brushed off her attempts to speak to him privately, but instead ushered her into the meeting room with cold impatience.

  “Shelby, this is Eric Frohmeyer, Shannon Cartwright, Linda Hamlin, Bob Marnier, and Jonathon Warren,” he said, introducing the board, who all nodded gravely at Shelby. She lifted a hand but there was not a single answering smile to her tentative gesture of friendliness. The dean reached forward and pressed a button on the recording device in the middle of the table. He gave the date, time and people present.

  “We’re here to discuss your continued employment at Midlands College, in light of the recent video that was shown on national media outlets. The video shows you in your office with a student, -

  “Wait,” Shelby interrupted, breathlessly. “It’s not me.”

  “Please hold any comments until I have stated the full reason for the hearing,” the dean admonished her sternly.

  Shelby sank back in her seat, crestfallen. This was no hearing, it was an academic kangaroo court.

  “The video has made Midland College infamous for professorial misconduct and the board feels that you should resign. Your actions have undermined the trust that parents and students have in the community. Respect for the college has diminished, especially on the national front. People who had never heard of us before, have seen the news coverage and formed a negative opinion. The damage done to the college could be in the millions, when we consider possible drops in enrollment and donations.”

  Shelby’s eyes opened wide. So, not only was her career down the drain but she might be held financially accountable for this farce? The dean paused, and she didn’t know if there was more to come, or if it was her turn to speak.

  “Miss Roswell, is there anything you have to say?” Shelby gazed back at Shannon Cartwright. Dark hair hung on either side of her dour face. Her eyes were unblinking behind thick, old fashioned glasses. But Shelby had the feeling that if anyone in the room was interested in hearing the truth, it was this somber woman.

  “It’s not me.” Shelby took a breath, her heart was pounding. “I lost my keys about two weeks ago. I didn’t tell anyone because I’m always losing them and they eventually turn up. My aunt had a stroke last Friday.” She felt her eyes fill with tears and angrily blinked them away. “And died the next night. I’ve been in Flea Bite Creek for the funeral. It’s not me,” she finished, her voice trembling.

  “There’s no time stamp on the video ,” said Eric Frohmeyer, who jabbed his pen in the air as he spoke, voice creaking with excitement. “I watched it several times. It could have been recorded any time.”

  Shelby winced, imagining how many people had watched the video, how many times.

  “And you don’t deny it’s your office,” said Eric, almost triumphantly. He leaned back in the chair and straightened his tie.

  “Yes, it’s my office.” Shelby’s heart sank at his eagerness to find her guilty.

  The dean pulled a small laptop from his bag and set it on the table. “Bob Marnier has requested we watch the video during the conference, so that we are all aware of what it contains.”

  Shelby sat up, shocked. “Surely, everyone has seen it already.” Please, God, don’t let them all watch it again.

  “There’s no need for that, I would think,” Shannon said, raising an eyebrow in surprise.

  “I haven’t actually seen the video,” Finch said, and shrugged as if it hadn’t mattered enough to see what the rest of the world was talking about.

  “Then we should view it,” the dean sighed.

  Shelby watched in horror, stomach churning, as the clip started. It was shaky and out of focus. The camera man maneuvered around the sidewalk, so the giant oak limb was to the right. The screen flickered in and out, the recording quality dismal. What was she supposed to do? Where was her advocate?

  Shelby sat up with a gasp. For the first time since Rebecca had called, she understood something vital. It was not a random prank. It was intentional. If it had been clear, it would have been harder to make everyone believe it was her. And those missing keys were not going to turn up anytime soon.

  The room seemed to spin with the knowledge that someone hated her enough to steal her keys and commit this act in her office, for a camera. How much hatred did it take to ruin her reputation this way?

  But she was finally on the way to understanding what this was all about. She leaned forward eagerly, eyes bright. There must be some clue, something she could use. She forced herself to ignore the unfamiliar black lingerie on the young woman. The board couldn’t take the contents of her underwear drawer as evidence.

  The red curls swayed over a too thin back. Shelby almost opened her mouth to point out that anybody should be able to tell she wasn’t the woman in the office just by body shape. But she needed hard proof. She narrowed her eyes, willing herself to disregard the hair, probably a wig, and search for anything else.

  “Stop!” she yelled, and the board members jumped. Finch swiveled from the screen and fixed her with a glare, his face twisting unpleasantly.

  “Go back a second, to where she lifts her arms to unbutton his shirt,” she said, pointing at the little video player. The dean reached over and scrolled back a little. Shelby waited, pulse racing as they waited for the video to begin again. “Now stop,” she commanded. The dean obediently paused the clip, the screen fuzzy with the image of the young woman’s hair, arms, and the torso of the young man.

  Shelby stood, legs shaking. She began to unbutton her cardigan with trembling fingers, face flushed.

  “Miss Roswell, please!” Linda, the only other woman on the board, who had kept silent since Shelby had entered the room, started to protest, pale eyes wide. “There’s no need for theatrics.” She looked at the dean beseechingly. “Perhaps we should have brought security,” she whispered loudly.

  Shelby laughed, incredulous. By now her cardigan was off and she stood before them in her silk tank top. She held out her arms and turned around, so only the back of her was visible.

  “Tell me what you see,” she commanded.

  The were murmurs around the room but Shelby held her place. They would figure it out, if they opened their eyes.

  There was a sudden gasp and Shelby allowed herself a tremulous smile. She turned slowly, arms still raised. “No tattoos. The woman in that video has tattoos on both arms. One here,” she pointed to each grainy bicep on the screen, “and one on her wrist, that you can see later. I thought it was a bracelet.”

  “How do you know it’s not a bracelet?” asked the dean. His face was hopeful, but wary, as if her innocence was proven too easily.

  “Because I know who that is, and maybe I know why she did this to me,” Shelby said, the exultation slowly fading from her voice. Oh, Katie, what were you thinking?

  “You thought me then devoid of every proper feeling, I am sure you did.

  The turn of your countenance I will never forget...”

  -Mr. Darcy

  Chapter Forty Two

  As she left the building, Shelby gazed up at the bright cloudless sky. Her father had wanted to come, but she told him this was something she would have to do alone. A quick phone call from the conference room, and he was jubilant, telling her that everything would return to normal now. She wasn’t so sure, but said nothing. His voice still held traces of grief, pausing where he wouldn’t have before. Shelby was thankful for his sake, and her mother’s, that she had been vindicated.

  She yearned to call Aunt Junetta and let her know that she would be ke
eping her job. The emptiness ached like a wound and she blinked back sudden tears. But she knows already, she reminded herself.

  “Shelby.” That one word brought her to a standstill. His voice was low, quiet. She turned to see Ransom standing near the door, where he must have been waiting.

  “Hi,” she said simply. There was an awkward pause and Shelby felt her face begin to flush. He walked nearer, his dark gaze fixed on her face. The kiss they’d shared flashed through her mind, like it had so many times before, but now it rocked her with a powerful need. She yearned to reach out to him, to let him fold his arms around her.

  “Thank you for your help, with my aunt. I’m sorry I didn’t say good bye, or maybe I did, but I don’t remember it.”

  “You’re welcome,” he said, coming close to her. She noticed his eyes were rimmed red, tired. “How did it go? I’ve been worried.”

  “Really?” Shelby smiled for the first time, a fierce gladness went through her. “I wasn’t sure, when I didn’t hear from you...” She dropped her gaze, knowing it was her fault for not trying to contact him.

  “I figured you would call if you needed me.” His tone was subdued, almost glum. Shelby felt a shiver run down her back, like it always did when he spoke very near her.

  “It went all right. I can keep my post here, but I don’t know how they can possibly fix the media hoopla,” she said, wincing at the thought of how far the lie had spread.

  “They’re letting you stay?” The surprise in his voice made her head snap up. His eyes were wide, shock read over his features.

  “Well, yes.” Shelby frowned, confused by his reaction. “I mean, I’m sure they planning on dismissing me at first but when I proved the woman wasn’t me, they didn’t really have a choice. I’m sure there’ll be some censure for losing my keys and not reporting it right away.”

  “It wasn’t you?” he asked, too loudly. A few heads turned as people passed them on the sidewalk.

  Shelby stared, mouth slightly open. “What did you think?”

  He rubbed his hand over his face. “I didn’t know what to think. It looked convincing...”

  First Rebecca, now Ransom. Fury rose like a flash inside her. “Convincing? A skinny, tattooed girl writhes around on my desk with some kid and it’s convincing? A shaky, blurred video of someone who doesn’t even show her face is all it takes for you people?” Her voice trembled with white hot anger.

  “Shelby, I’m sorry,” he said, eyes pleading. “You have to understand. Everyone said-

  “Right, everyone said. The entire nation said that it was me, and it wasn’t. Maybe it was too much to ask, but I really thought I would get the benefit of the doubt, at least from you.” Shelby’s fists were clenched and her face felt tight with the effort of not screaming at him. Her eyes burned with angry tears.

  “Please, Shelby,” he whispered, reaching out to touch her hand, so softly.

  She jerked it back. “No, Ransom. You once told me you felt like you could trust me. But you didn’t even give me a chance to explain before you believed the worst. It seems you’re the one that can’t be trusted.”

  With that, she turned and walked blindly toward Chapman Hall, doing her very best to ignore the whispers and murmurs of the people she passed along the way.

  *****

  “Shelby, we tracked down Katie Young.” Her father’s slow drawl sounded in the receiver. Shelby clutched the phone tighter and took a deep breath. No matter what the girl had done, she still cared about her.

  “Is she... What did she say?”

  “Rebecca’s friend in Miami traced the video pretty easily. Once we told Katie that we had proof, she told us how it happened. It’s an ugly story and not exactly what we thought. David Whitcomb conned her grandmother into signing some papers that were a bank loan, which he pocketed, just like the LeJeune’s. So, she was working three jobs trying to keep up with the payments. When he started offering her other jobs and paying her much more than she could earn by herself, she said okay.”

  Shelby’s throat constricted. “Other jobs?”

  “He had a group of girls he had blackmailed into being escorts and running drugs over the state border. When the attorney general started looking into his business dealings, and Whitcomb heard we were behind it, he decided to set you up. He told Katie that if she stole your keys and did this job, he’d repay the grandmother’s loan, and they could keep the old place.”

  Shelby rocked back in her chair, stunned. Katie had mentioned her family’s historic home, but she had never thought that David could have been involved. What she thought was simple revenge, was much more heartbreaking.

  “That’s horrible. What’s going to happen to her?”

  Shelby’s father made a noise into the phone. “You’re a sweet girl, you know that? You could be calling for her head, she tried to kill your career.”

  Shelby’s chest tightened at the thought of what Katie had ruined- more than her career, her relationship with Ransom. But it probably would have failed in the end, if he had that little faith in her, she told herself.

  “It seems that there’s not a lot that can be done with a video that doesn’t exactly identify the victim. Other people wrote your name in the comments, but it doesn’t say that on the video. So, legally, she’s probably safe. We could charge her with theft, because of the keys, I suppose.”

  She gazed at the ceiling, wishing that Aunt Junetta could give her some advice right about now. She waited for the fury to take over, the white hot anger she had felt before, but all she felt right now was a bone-deep weariness.

  “That’s okay, Daddy. I think she’s suffered enough. Charging her with theft wouldn’t repair my reputation.” Her voice sounded hollowed out by sadness to her own ears.

  But she had a plan and it just might work.

  *****

  “Caroline, thank you for coming down to Midlands,” Shelby said, ushering her friend into the office. Jolee had been very quiet when she had come to pick up her campus mail early that morning. No one had knocked or called for hours. She had no idea what was going to happen tomorrow during class. But she couldn’t think about that now.

  “Anything I can do to help, Shelby,” Caroline said, hugging her tight. “I didn’t tell my mother where I was going, I’m sure you can imagine what she’s been saying.”

  Shelby’s stomach lurched a little, trying her best not to imagine. Then she smiled a little, glad to see her friend was still alive under all that smothering. It boded well for what she had in mind.

  “I need a favor, and I need it from you,” she began. For the next half hour, she outlined her plan.

  “You know, I think this may just work. Let me make some calls, and we’ll see what happens,” Caroline said, eyes lit from within, voice filled with excitement.

  “I knew you would be game for this!” crowed Shelby and threw her arms around her old friend, nearly knocking her off her chair.

  The next morning, Shelby stepped into the bookstore to buy a copy of The Washington Post. With shaking fingers she laid her money on the counter. Clutching the paper to her chest, she walked outside and sat on the bench. The very front page bore the headline ‘Professor Rebuilds Reputation After Viral Video Sham’. Caroline’s byline stood out in big, bold print. The article took up half the front page and a full page in the first section. Shelby read every word, sitting on the hard bench, students streaming past. A smile crept over her face as she read not only the truth, but the glorious ease that Caroline had with words. She made you care about the injustice and the pain Shelby had suffered, grow angry at the near dismissal, and rally for her as she tried to expose the lies.

  It helped that David Whitcomb was formally charged with extortion, bank fraud, prostitution, and many other crimes. Caroline carefully avoided hinting at Katie’s identity, but had given the readers enough proof that it made the scenario believable.

  Shelby folded the paper and sighed. So many things had fallen into place, and she was thankful for that the persec
ution was coming to an end, but a persistent misery rose in her chest. Every time she thought of the moment Ransom realized she was not the woman in the video, she felt like her heart was breaking all over again.

  The surprise on his face had told her everything. Whatever connection she thought they had, or emotions that surged in her or the energy that crackled between them, none of it mattered.

  If he watched that video and thought it was her, he didn’t know her at all.

  “We will not quarrel for the greater share of blame annexed to that evening,” said Elizabeth. “The conduct of neither, if strictly examined, will be irreproachable; but since then, we have both, I hope, improved in civility.”

  -Elizabeth

  Chapter Forty Three

  Shelby trudged to the door and opened it with one quick movement. Her mouth was open to say, yet again, she was not doing any interviews. Her heart leaped into her throat when she saw Ransom standing on the step, bright red tulips in one arm.

  “Please, don’t slam the door.” His tone was so urgent that Shelby was startled into a laugh. As if she slammed the door in his face every day.

  Standing to the side, she motioned him to come in. “Come off the step. You never know who’s out there snapping photos. Rebecca says that Sirocco’s got her own internet fan club now.”

  Ransom stepped inside, but didn’t sit. He held out the tulips. “These are for you.”

  Shelby smiled sadly and took them. It was a bittersweet moment and she couldn’t decide whether to laugh or to cry. You were supposed to get flowers at the beginning of the relationship, not the end.