AllFreeNovel
Share Us
A head poked in the doorway, and at his nod, Viola entered the room, sitting in front of his expansive mahogany desk. Maxwell merely snorted.
“I see you’ve been reading,” she began, and he crooked a smile at her.
“How much did Mother tell you?”
“Not much,” she said, then at his raised eyebrow, she reddened slightly. Viola could never tell a lie. “All right, she told me a bit of it when I couldn’t find my recent paper. That you were reading them to determine if there is any truth to them besides what you read on the surface. And that you were now aware that Phoebe is the publisher ofThe Women’s Weekly.”
“You knew as well?” he asked, running a hand through his hair.
“Stop that, your hair is now standing straight up,” she said with an admonishing frown, and he couldn’t help but smile as she sounded like a nursemaid. Or a mother. “But yes, I had my suspicions. How could you not?”
“It seems I did not want to believe such a thing,” he said wearily. “Though apparently everyone else who knew her was aware.”
“We were not entirely sure,” said Viola reassuringly. “However it seemed somewhat likely.” She tilted her head and studied him. “It looks as though you have been reading.”
“I have,” he nodded, though said nothing more.
“And?” she asked.
“And what?”
“And what do you think now, Jeffrey?” she finished, rolling her eyes at him.
He smiled at how easy it was to rankle her, as it was with all his sisters. They were rather predictable that way. Unlike his brother, who was completely the opposite.
He leaned back in his chair now, contemplating his answer, for he knew how much importance it held — not only for Viola but for his own understanding, as it could determine the course of his very future.
“I believe,” he began slowly, “That I possibly made some assumptions aboutThe Women’s Weeklyand about Phoebe’s own opinions that were, perhaps, not altogether true.”
Viola’s eyes brightened behind her spectacles, but all she said was, “How so?”
“I had thought that Phoebe wanted to create great change, to upend our current society, to cause chaos,” he continued reflectively. “But her articles seem to state that, in fact, what she believes is that women should have a voice, should be able to express themselves and have a forum where they can feel comfortable, in both finding items to read that intrigue them, while also opening their minds to other possibilities. That does make sense to me. There was also something Mother said — about imagining what it might be like to have both your opinions and your potential stifled. It is a difficult thing to conjecture, having been raised with every door open to you, but I suppose I would feel completely closed in.”
“She does propose changes to some of the acts, to providing women more freedoms, more choice,” Viola pointed out, and Jeffrey was aware that his sister was ensuring he was completely aware of the full implications of the potential choice he might make.
“Yes, I realize that,” he nodded. “I cannot lie and say I agree with every one of her articles or opinions, ’tis true. And yet, there are some which I do understand. If women had more power to look over their own marriage contracts, for example, that could make quite a difference, would it not? And I agree with her that there should be a law in place to protect a woman from a man who would put her in harm’s way, though how one would ever determine the guilty party in such a matter, I have no idea.”
Viola tilted her head, a slow smile beginning to spread on her face. “So tell me, Jeffrey, what will you do? Will you go to her? Make amends?”
He frowned.
“Despite the fact that I better understand many of her principles, that does not change the fact that she was completely dishonest with me, that she used me for her own purposes, made me into a fool.”
He drummed his fingertips absently on the top of the desk, and Viola leaned forward and placed her own hand atop them to still his movements.
“Do you not understand why she had to do such a thing when you were of a completely different opinion but hours ago?”
He stared down at the desk, at Viola’s gentle hand, and closed his eyes and sighed. He did not want to give in, did not want to admit any errors in his own ways, but perhaps Viola did have a point.
“What is pride worth?” she persisted. “More than losing the love of your life?”
He passed his hand over his eyes as he couldn’t help but chuckle ruefully at Viola’s words, that she displayed such maturity and grace, and she smiled back at him with pleasure as she patted his hand.
“That’s the spirit. Now, what are you going to do about reporting on this wicked publisher you so determinedly tracked down? For you have some men who will be waiting to hear what you have to say, and you must be prepared.”
“I suppose I shall just say that I could not find her.”
Viola snorted. “That is a terrible lie and they will never believe it. No, you must say that you tracked her down, but she evaded your grasp. That you found their place of work, but she got away.”
