To Love and Honor (18 page)

“No, thank you, Larry. I suppose you should know that Roger Gibson and I are engaged—we plan to be married in June.”

He stopped abruptly. “Marry Roger Gibson? You told me he was nothing to you but a friend.”

“Yes, and I was as surprised as you are to learn that, while he
is
my best friend, he's also the man I love and want to marry.”

“I suppose
he
knew that you are Josiah Conley's granddaughter.”

“As a matter of fact, he does know, but he asked me to marry him before he knew it. What are you suggesting?”

“I'm suggesting nothing—just figure it out for yourself.”

Angrily, Violet said, “Don't judge other people's actions by your own, Larry.”

Violet lost count of how many pupils mentioned seeing her on television, and several of the girls made comments, such as, “Gee, it didn't even look like you, Miss Conley, with all of those diamonds and that sleek dress. Did you enjoy that big party?”

Misty sidled up to her and said quietly, with a touch of Roger's humor, “I didn't know my new mama was a society lady.”

“She isn't,” Violet replied. “That was a once-in-a-lifetime experience. You'll have to put up with the same old Violet Conley you've always known.”

With a slight grin, Misty said, “That suits me.”

Before the closing bell rang, Violet rued the day she
was born a Conley. When Nan came in after the closing bell, Violet said, “How fickle can people be? Where are our values? When my mother's prison record became known, people turned against me. When they learn that I have a rich grandfather, although he is a scoundrel, and by some accounts,
should
be in prison, I've become the most popular person on the staff. Where are our values?” she repeated.

“Face it! Generally speaking, people are materialistic, and we're judged not by what we are, but by what we have.”

“I don't have any more now than I did six months ago, and never will inherit any of the Conley millions. The cost is too great.”

Nan laughed. “When you come into a fortune, don't forget who your true friends were when you were poor.”

“Cut it out, Nan. I've had about all I can take today. I don't enjoy being in the limelight.”

“As I told you when there was such a furor over your mother, this will all die down when something else unusual happens to excite the populace. Maitland is a nice place to live, but it is a
small
town, and no one can have any secrets. If you lived in a large city, your debut into society would hardly have been noticed.”

“I'm worried that all of this publicity might come between Roger and me.”

They walked out of the school together, and Nan reassured, “You don't have anything to worry about. Roger has a level head on his shoulders.”

At home, she had two calls on her answering machine. One was from Josiah Conley's secretary, which she erased without answering. The other was from Pe
ter Pierce. He hadn't wasted any time, she thought wryly.

She returned his call, and when he answered the phone, she identified herself and said, “I've decided to authorize the documentary on the episode between my mother and father. You will have to contact my attorney for details and also for any financial arrangements. I think you met William O'Brien when you were previously in Kansas City.”

After she completed that call, Violet telephoned O'Brien.

“Right or wrong,” she said as soon as the attorney answered the phone, “I've authorized Peter Pierce to air the story of my parents' problems. I hope you will act for me in deciding what information to release and also the financial arrangements. He had told me that he would pay $500,000 for publishing rights, and if you don't think that is enough, see that he pays what is just. Whatever the proceeds, I want you to set up the amount in a Linda Conley Foundation to provide college scholarships for deserving girls who couldn't further their education in any other way.”

“I'll be happy to act for you in the matter, but I'll telephone you with the details before any papers are signed. And what about the bank account that your mother had—shall I transfer that to you now?”

“Yes. I'll use that money, rather than put it in the foundation, for I have her funeral expenses to pay, and I do plan to marry soon. I believe that is the way Mother would want it. She earned that money, and I'm not hesitant to use it, but I don't want to profit from the documentary, to prove to myself, if to no one else, that my motives weren't mercenary.”

“Just a word of warning, Violet. You'll not be able
to avoid Josiah Conley. The man is determined to get what he wants, and he will use every force at his command to bend you to his will. He wants you to raise up a dynasty for him, but he's not above casting you aside as soon as you provide him with a grandson or two.”

“Isn't there anything good about him? I refuse to believe that there isn't
something
worthwhile in everybody.”

“I'll admit I'm biased against him, but I see nothing in him to admire.”

“Despite all I'd heard about him, I couldn't help but like the man. He can be charming if he wants to be.”

“So can any scoundrel! Be careful in any dealings with him.”

“I've been wondering if I shouldn't notify him by mail that I'm not interested in accepting his proposition. As my attorney, will you write to him and tell him my decision?”

“With pleasure,” O'Brien assured her. “I'll mail you a copy.”

“Please be kind about it. I don't want to antagonize him any more than I have to.”

After her conversation with O'Brien, Violet had little appetite, but she placed a chicken breast in the broiler, and while it cooked, she prepared a salad and toasted a slice of sourdough bread. During her meal, she looked out the dining room window and marveled at how the foliage in her backyard had changed in the week she had been gone. Daffodils and tulips created an aura of yellow, red and pink hues. The forsythia's yellow blooms swayed gently in the southwest breeze. For beauty, her yard certainly came off second best
when compared with the floral display at the Conley mansion, but she liked this one better.

When the kitchen was tidied, Violet took a cup of tea and went to the living room. She felt spiritually drained, and she picked up the Bible before she settled into her lounge chair. She was troubled about her own personality, and what she had to offer Roger. She pondered the age-old question of the greatest determinant in molding character—heredity or environment? Had she inherited any of the abominable traits of the Conleys? What of her father's temper or her grandfather's domineering attitude—did she have the same flaw in her character, lurking somewhere beneath the surface waiting to assert itself? Could she hope that if she inherited anything from the Conleys that it might be from her grandmother?

The future seemed bleak when she dwelt on these possibilities, but as she riffled the pages of the Bible in her lap, she knew without a doubt that, like her mother, she was hesitant to cause conflict. She dreaded the thought of being involved in a confrontation with her grandfather that was bound to come when he learned about the documentary, but she wasn't as troubled as she might have been a few months ago. God had provided the guidance and support she needed to bring her mother into her home, to cope with Linda's death, to accept her father's faulty character and the terrible circumstances that led to his death by his wife's hand, and the disappointment and loss she felt when Roger had forsaken her. These were not situations that Violet would ever want to experience again, but as she looked back on them, she knew that each crisis and its resolution had increased her faith in God and her realization that nothing she encountered in the
future would remove her beyond the realm of His care. It was a comforting thought.

She opened the Bible to the Psalms. What a blessing that, years before the birth of Christ, these inspired writers had been able to put into words the path that a Christian should follow. Violet looked down at Psalm 73 on the printed page before her and received encouragement from the revelation God had given to the psalmist: “Yet I am always with you; you hold me by my right hand. You guide me with your counsel, and afterward you will take me into glory. Whom have I in heaven but you? And being with you, I desire nothing on earth. My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.”

Violet sensed that she couldn't avoid an unpleasant confrontation with Josiah P. Conley, but with God's help, she would know what to do, relying on Him for the guidance she needed. The comfort of God's presence overwhelmed her, and she was at peace from the day's frustrations. Violet was napping when Roger knocked, and she yawned when she opened the door.

“What a welcome!” Roger said, laughing. “I expected you to greet me with open arms, and all I get is a yawn.”

“I had just dropped off to sleep,” Violet excused herself. She spread out her arms. “But the arms are always open. Come on in.” She gave him a tight hug and picked up the teacup on the table. “I'll make some fresh tea. That will awaken me. How was your day?”

“Frustrating!”

“Oh-oh! So was mine—we may come to logger-heads before the evening is over.”

He leaned on the snack bar while they waited for
the water to boil. She dropped two tea bags into the teapot. “What made yours so frustrating?” Roger asked.

With a side glance at him, Violet said, “The staff and students at Maitland High are favorably impressed that I'm the granddaughter of Josiah B. Conley. My status has risen considerably. I was the most popular person on campus today.”

“And you found that displeasing?” he said, toying with a dish mat on the counter.

“Very much so. It particularly rankled when my principal asked me for a date this week. How could he have had the nerve?”

“I assume you turned him down.”

“Of course. My heart is already spoken for. I thought you knew that.”

“I suspected it.” He smiled at her and picked up the tray she had prepared and carried it to the living room. She sat on the couch, and he handed her a cup of tea and pulled up a footstool close to her.

“But as for Larry approaching you, his mother is probably pressuring him. If Olivia Holland can see any possibility of getting her hands on any of the Conley millions, she won't pass it up.”

“That's my opinion, too. I do think Larry is fond of me, but he does dance to his mother's tune. She telephoned me last night and was all sweetness and charm. I didn't bother to disillusion her by telling her the complete state of affairs between Josiah Conley and me, for I didn't consider it any of her business.” She sipped on the tea, hesitating. “I told Larry that I planned to marry you in two months, and he was certainly annoyed, even to the extent of suggesting that your interest in me was influenced by my possible in
heritance. Perhaps I shouldn't have told you that, but if you should hear it, I didn't want you to think I believed it.”

Roger grimaced, causing the etched lines on his face to deepen. “Some of my acquaintances made similar remarks today. That's one reason for
my
frustration.”

“Larry's remark really upset me, for I feared that if you heard such a rumor it would scare you off again.”

He reached for her hand and lifted it to his lips. “Violet, I've made a vow to you. I'm in for the long haul—the only way I'll leave you now is if you chase me away.”

Her fingers tightened around his strong hand. “That isn't likely.”

When she started to tell him in detail what she had learned about her mother and father in Kansas City, Roger moved to the couch beside her, and with one arm around her shoulder, he took her hand. As the circumstances of her father's death unfolded, Roger murmured compassionately more than once, and often used his handkerchief to blot the tears from Violet's eyes.

When she concluded, she said, “It's a sordid tale, but I've agreed to allow the program to be aired and have authorized my attorney in Kansas City to make the necessary negotiations.”

“Do you know how long before the program will be on television?”

“I have no idea, but Peter Pierce will want to present it as soon as possible, I should think, to be ahead of some other journalist who might not ask for permission.”

“Josiah Conley won't be pleased.”

“I know! Mr. O'Brien has warned me that he won't give up on his desire to have me move into his household and mother a dynasty for him, and that I should be aware of possible underhanded tactics.”

“I know Conley by reputation only, but he's reported to be the kind of man who might exert pressure to have both of us lose our jobs so he could force us to do his bidding.”

“Does he has that much influence in Illinois?”

“I don't think so, but if he should hook up with the Holland faction, we can expect anything.” He paused, and a whimsical expression crossed his face. “Violet, are you sure you really want to marry me? If you consider that Olivia Holland would welcome you gladly if you should effect a reconciliation with your grandfather, you're actually turning down two fortunes to marry me, and I'll never be able to provide you with anything more than a moderate living. Violet, are you sure?”

Violet gazed for a long moment into Roger's deep brown eyes, and in a flash, her mind monitored all of the characteristics that had drawn her to him. He was a responsible father. He was respected in the community for his forcefulness as a law officer, and also for his compassion for those who were involved in crime. He had a sense of humor. His everyday living exemplified the tenets of his Christian beliefs. Violet's hand lifted to caress Roger's face, and the quick response in his eyes to her touch fortified her assurance that with this man she would find a marriage that would satisfy her physical and emotional needs as well as guarantee a secure and harmonious future. She kissed her fingers and rubbed them tenderly across his lips.