To Love and Honor (15 page)

Josiah waved a hand, negligibly disregarding her concern. “I've never had time for church myself, though Rachel used to go, but there's a church on every corner in Kansas City. Choose any one you want, and I'll endow it. That way, you and your husband can be elected to important offices. We'll choose a church with many influential members.”

His audacity angered Violet, but she also felt like laughing aloud. His suggestions for choosing a church were ludicrous, and she wondered how to deal with him. Before the afternoon passed, Violet was aware that one could neither argue nor reason with her grandfather. In a grudging way, she liked the man, but she was afraid of him. After being in his overwhelming presence for a few hours, her willpower was gone, and by evening, she had lost the mental strength to contend with him.

When she returned to her room, a black, floor-length silk dress overlaid with lace was spread out on the bed. Sweat popped out on Violet's body when she read the name of a famous French designer on the label—the cost of this one garment would provide her normal clothing budget for several years. It was no wonder that Josiah had disregarded her remark that she could buy her own clothing!

Violet submitted to the ministrations of the French maid as she arranged her hair, applied makeup, and dropped the shimmering black dress over her head. A dainty train flowed behind her as she walked around the room to test the length of the garment. The dress was sleeveless and the neckline much too low for Vi
olet's comfort, but the maid produced a set of fingerless black lace gloves that came to the elbow. Violet sat on the lounge and stretched out her feet for the maid to put on the decorative slingback shoes covered with tiny cube-shaped rhinestones.

A knock sounded at the door, and Miss Whitaker entered carrying a large chest. She opened the chest to display five drawers of jewels. Violet could only stare at the ostentatious jewelry that reminded her of the Crown jewels.

“Your grandfather wants you to choose something from his wife's jewelry to wear to the reception tonight.”

Finding her voice, Violet said, “I don't want to wear this jewelry—what if I should lose it?”

Miss Whitaker's straight lips wrinkled into a half smile. “Hardly any danger of losing anything in this house tonight. There will be numerous security agents circulating.”

Desperately, Violet protested, “I still don't want to wear them. In fact, I don't even want to go to the reception.”

In her way, Miss Whitaker was as domineering as Josiah Conley, Violet decided, for she ignored Violet's comments and turned her so that she faced the mirror. The secretary lifted a gold necklace set with rubies and diamonds and placed it around Violet's neck.

“This is probably a good choice,” she said. “It's certainly not the most expensive necklace Mrs. Conley owned, but it does look stunning with that dress.” She clasped the necklace around Violet's neck, removed the simple gold earrings from Violet's ears and inserted the long pendants that matched the necklace. She unwrapped a matching bracelet and gave it to Vi
olet to put over her wrist, while she rummaged carefully in the lower drawer containing a dozen or so rings. Violet's hands were ringless, so Miss Whitaker placed a large diamond solitaire on her left hand, and a diamond encrusted circlet on the third finger of her right hand. Chills coursed through Violet's body when she realized that the rings fit perfectly.

Miss Whitaker took a box from one drawer of the chest. “This was your grandmother's favorite necklace, which she inherited from her forebears. Note especially the golden loop-in-loop chain work.”

The necklace was hung with rose-shaped pendants, highlighted by gold-and-silver enamel, and it was beautiful. The secretary replaced the necklace in the box and locked the chest.

“Come along now,” Miss Whitaker said. “Let's see if Mr. Conley approves your appearance, and I must lock this jewelry in the safe.”

As they hustled down the hall, Violet observed her appearance in a floor-length mirror. Only her hair looked normal, and because it was so short, the maid couldn't change it much. That fact gave Violet some comfort—how could a designer dress and expensive jewelry do so much to alter one's appearance? She would have to be on guard, or it would change her personality as well.

When Miss Whitaker opened the door and ushered Violet into Josiah's office, he stood to his feet, his expression awestruck.

“Magnificent!” he said. “I have my Rachel back again.” He favored her with such a possessive look that Violet's blood chilled. Would he try to force her to remain in this house?

“Then you approve?” Miss Whitaker said.

“Very much. You have done well.” To Violet, he said, “We will dine in a half hour.”

“Then may I suggest,” Miss Whitaker said, “that you hurry to change your own garments.”

“Point well taken,” Josiah said. He patted Violet on her shoulder, and she was repulsed by the gesture.

Back in her room, Violet was left alone for a few minutes, and ignoring her finery, she knelt by the chaise lounge. “God,” she prayed, “I'm in a situation that I can't control, and one that terrifies me. What am I going to do?” While she knelt with her head on the lounge, she thought of Rachel Conley, whose presence seemed to fill the room. “Grandmother,” Violet said, not believing that Rachel could hear her, but she did feel an affinity to that grandmother she couldn't remember, “if I'm like you as I've been led to believe, there must have been times when you were frightened and uneasy in this house. I hope I can be as composed as you must have been.”

As she remained on her knees waiting for God's answer, He answered her as she recalled some words from
What's Your Prison?
Linda had written, “There is no dungeon so deep, no prison wall so secure to prevent God from reaching out to His children. Paul and Silas prayed in the Philippian jail and were heard; Jonah prayed from the belly of the big fish and God answered; though Joseph had reached the depths of Potiphar's dungeon, he was delivered; and even when Jeremiah was in the dungeon, God protected and strengthened the prophet to continue his God-given work. Be encouraged—if you belong to God, you will never be in any situation from which He can't deliver you. It may be that He will send angels to guard you,
or perhaps deliverance will come by your own ingenuity, but be assured, wherever you are, God is there.”

Such peace flowed into Violet's soul that she praised God for delivering her from the dread of this evening. And how wonderful that her comfort had come through her mother's words. Linda, of all people, would understand how Violet felt tonight. She had been intimidated by Josiah long before Violet was born.

Violet was still on her knees, resting her head on the lounge, when the door opened, and the maid screeched,
“Mademoiselle!”
The woman rushed to Violet and lifted her up to her feet.

“What is the matter? You have wrinkled your dress.”

“Nothing is the matter…now. And there isn't anything wrong with my dress,” Violet added, as the maid tugged at the garment and brushed away a few specks of lint she had picked up from the pink carpet.

 

During the dinner, which was served to a group of about thirty guests, Violet kept encountering the sardonic glances of a man who sat about halfway down the table on her left. He seemed familiar to her. At last, she placed him—Mike Conley, Josiah's grandson, whom she had met at the Social Studies competition in Springfield. She wondered how he felt about her elevation to such an exalted position. She remembered Josiah's comment that his grandson was terminally ill. Violet had thought Mike Conley looked pale and haggard at the first meeting and now he looked even more sickly. Clearly, his health was rapidly deteriorating.

There was a half-hour break between dinner and the beginning of the reception, and Violet left the dining
room, hoping she could find her way back to Rachel's bedroom. Mike Conley blocked her way when she entered the hallway.

“So we meet again,” he said. “And you've been ignoring me when I thought you would be grateful—without my intervention, you wouldn't have been invited into these exclusive halls.”

“I didn't recognize you at first, but believe me, I'm not grateful that you told your grandfather of my existence. He practically ordered me to come to see him, and when I came, he wouldn't let me leave. I feel like a prisoner.”

“Which you really are. Josiah has always imprisoned members of his family.”

“But if you think I'm happy in such a gathering as this, you're mistaken. Nothing personal, but I'm sorry that you and I encountered each other.”

“I know it wasn't a kind thing for me to do, but dare I admit, that I told him about you to get him off my back for a while. He didn't seem to understand that I wasn't the one to carry on his kingdom. I'd just about run out of the strength to oppose him when you appeared on the horizon.”

“I'm surprised that you would want to take a chance on him leaving some of his possessions to me.”

“I inherited my father's share of Midwest Enterprises—I have more money than I can ever spend in the short time I have left.”

“I'm not sure I'm interested in carrying on his legacy, either.”

He looked at her keenly. “You mean that, don't you?” He indicated the spacious house with a sweep of his hand. “This hasn't impressed you at all.”

“Until a few weeks ago, all I ever knew about the Conleys was that they had railroaded my mother into prison and left me without any parental guidance. My mother wouldn't see me, and my Aunt Ruth answered few questions, but enough for me to realize that I was better off not knowing anything about my father's people.”

“Josiah won't give up without a fight,” Mike warned her.

“I need to get away from him so I can think. He acts as if the decision is already made, but I don't think my fiancé will be interested in his proposition.”

“Are you engaged to the man who was with you in Springfield?”

“Yes, we plan to be married in June, and I doubt he will be interested in my grandfather's offer, but I do think he should be considered in my decision.”

“He appeared to be a good man.”

“He is,” Violet said, and her face wreathed into a smile; even the thought of Roger brought her pleasure.

“Then you should forget Midwest Enterprises and stay with him.”

“My opinion exactly. That's why I intend to leave as soon as the reception is over.”

Mike shook his head. “Maybe not. I've already had my orders to drive you back to your hotel tonight and bring you and your luggage back here to stay.”

“No! No!” Violet grabbed his arm. “You're the one who got me into this, so please help me. Take me away now.”

Mike rubbed his forehead, as if thinking was too painful for him. “It isn't that easy to evade Josiah's clutches, but let me think upon it, and I'll do something for you.”

Miss Whitaker appeared behind them and Violet wondered what she had heard.

“Your grandfather is expecting the two of you to join him in the front hallway in five minutes.”

“Then we will have to hurry, Violet. We mustn't keep grandfather waiting.”

He gave her a significant nod and wandered away. Lifting the front hem of her dress and letting the train flow behind her, Violet rushed up the back stairs to Rachel's bedroom. She had to have a few moments to herself before she faced all of those strangers.

The massive looped earrings pulled on Violet's ear-lobes, and the necklace felt cold and heavy on her neck. Again Violet got a glimpse of herself in the floor-length mirror as she hurried along the carpeted hall. Outwardly, she appeared more beautiful than she had ever looked before, but she didn't look like herself, and with the addition of all the finery, her personality had disappeared. She couldn't even remember the values and goals of the Violet Conley she had once been. If one day in her grandfather's presence could do that, how would a daily diet of his dominance affect her? It was unthinkable.

She endured the rest of the evening, standing at his side as he proudly introduced her to his acquaintances. When all the guests had assembled, and Josiah was busy with the presidential contender, standing beside him as he made his bid for the country's highest office, Mike appeared at her side.

“Go upstairs and gather your things. In five minutes I'll knock on the door and guide you to the servants' exit, where a taxi is supposed to be waiting for you. You would never be able to escape being seen if you go out any of the other doors.”

She searched his eyes for a few moments. Could she trust him? Somehow she thought that she could, and she knew that she had to leave this place before she lost her small amount of remaining mental ingenuity. In the bedroom she changed out of the expensive dress into the slacks outfit she had worn to the house, removed the jewelry and laid it on top of the dress, hoping nothing would happen to it before Miss Whitaker could return it in the safe.

Violet was ready when she heard a discreet knock on the door, and without a word, she followed Mike down a small set of stairs. He opened the outside door and looked around before he motioned her to exit. A taxi stood beside the steps.

“Thank you, Mike. I hope you won't get in trouble because of this.”

“Don't worry about me—I can't sink any lower in my grandfather's estimation.” He took her hand. “I think I would have enjoyed knowing you as a cousin. I had a lonely childhood with no other children around.”

“So did I. I guess that tragedy with my parents ruined both of our lives.”

“The tragedy was that both of us were born Conleys.” He opened the taxi door for her and squeezed her hand. “Watch out for yourself. Good luck.”

When the taxi pulled up before her hotel, Violet asked the driver to wait. She went inside, checked out of her room, and directed the taxi driver to take her to another hotel. Knowing her grandfather's investigative powers, she registered as Ruth Reed, and by paying for the room in advance with cash, she didn't have to present any identification cards. She checked
into her room, and only then did she rid herself of the feeling that Josiah would snatch her back into his fold.