Reluctant Deception - Cambria Smyth Page 0,42

architectural drawing in one hand and the old photograph in the other. She was in the main parlor, the room indicated as the “Rose Room" on the prints, and was comparing its original appearance with how it looked today. After leaving Chris's office, she decided to spend the rest of the afternoon with these newly-found treasures, despite the fact that Edwina's schedule showed him back in the mansion for the rest of the day. The discovery was too important, too exciting to put off because of his presence, and the report would be significantly enriched by her findings.

She was getting angrier and more upset by the minute. That the town fathers and historical society sanctioned the destruction of this marvelous building was unthinkable. They were so impressed by Chris's grand plans for the site and its spillover effect on Borden's Landing, not to mention his "generous" donation, that they were seeing the forest but not the trees.

Why couldn't Chris restore Harte's Desire and use it as the conference center? The size of its first floor rooms were ideally suited for meeting space and with some modernization, Harte's Desire would prove an idyllic retreat. If the mansion itself wasn't large enough, Chris could build an addition designed to complement that of Harte's Desire. Done with sensitivity, the results would be spectacular. She'd never asked to see the architect's final floor plans and honestly hadn't wanted to see them. Until now.

Straightening her shoulders with renewed determination, she made her way to Edwina's office. Five minutes later, carefully avoiding Chris's line of sight, Libby headed back to the Rose Room armed with a huge sheaf of crisp, new blue and white architectural drawings.

Plopping down unceremoniously on the Brussels rug in front of the marble fireplace, Libby spread the blueprints before her. The top one showed the proposed site plan, and Libby shuddered to see only a dotted line indicating where Harte's Desire used to be. After closely studying each sheet, Libby determined that the conference center was to be built in the same location occupied by the mansion, which made sense because of the magnificent river view afforded by the site. Four office buildings, each four stories high, were lined like soldiers close to the river, two of them obliterating the vineyard. The conference center was only a little larger, in terms of square feet, than Harte's Desire. Chris had chosen the ugliest of the designs he’d shown her and had done little to change its appearance since asking her opinion. The office buildings appeared as no more than sterile, modern boxes with a minimum of detailing to break their monotony. She was not surprised.

With a huff, Libby rolled the plans into a tight bundle as she formulated a plan for attack. With some creative rearranging, and an imaginative rehab of Harte's Desire, the mansion could be saved and the office buildings redesigned to better suit their historic setting, moved closer to the road than the river. Libby knew in her gut it could be done and when completed would be a masterpiece combining old with new.

Of course, the only thing standing in the way was Christopher Darnell. A formidable opponent, to be sure, but now that she knew him better, perhaps he wasn't as invincible as she thought. He had a human side which he'd revealed to Libby several times. Maybe he could be reached. Maybe she could convince him to change his plans.

She may not have been here to save Harte's Desire, but Libby calculated the war was far from over. She had to fight for what she believed in. Maybe she couldn't win him over to her point of view. Certainly that was a possibility. But, she had to try. And now was as good a time as any.

With steadfast conviction in every step, she headed to his office.

Chris was pouring over a stack of letters, one hand clutching a pen, the other idly fingering his thick, dark hair. Stifling the urge to turn and run, Libby took a deep breath and rapped lightly on the open door.

"You don't have to knock, Edwina," Chris murmured without turning around.

"It's not Edwina, Chris. It's Elizabeth," Libby announced, her steady voice belying the mounting apprehension making her stomach flutter.

Chris gestured for her to enter, putting the paperwork aside and rising from his chair as he did so.

Libby was about to sit down in the chair he offered, but decided, instead, to confront him from a standing position.

"There's something that's been bothering me for