Jewel of the Pacific (28 page)

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Authors: Linda Lee Chaikin

BOOK: Jewel of the Pacific
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“Now you’re sounding like Grandfather,” he complained. “He won’t accept the facts on Silas because Silas is a Derrington. What if there are facts?”

Nora frowned. “Any particulars that may arise during this nasty political season in Honolulu must first be fully confirmed. We don’t want to soil ourselves by printing gossip and accusations by enemies who will stop at little to get what they want.”

“I’ll get to the truth,” Zachary stated. “Rafe will back me up on it, too.”

“Just make sure of your sources, my boy. Remember: In the mouth of two or three witnesses shall every word be established.”

Eden remained silent throughout. She had her own suspicions as well. Silas’s recent actions did not bode well for him. Zachary was either convinced he knew something detrimental about Silas and was trying to trap him, or he was sifting through what Great-aunt Nora would call “the muck and mire.” The way he kept mentioning how Rafe was going to “back him up,” caused her to wonder if they hadn’t joined forces, at least for tonight.

The coach entered through a guarded gate and stopped at the carriage landing where uniformed footmen came to assist them. Ahead, Iolani Palace gleamed like a Christmas tree with lights and chandeliers.

Eden drew her lovely satin skirt above her dancing slippers, and Zachary helped her step down from the coach to the landing. Her gaze scanned the courtyard. Members from the Legislature were already gathered with their ladies, fraternizing while wondrous music flowed from the famed Royal Hawaiian Band. Benches and chairs were conveniently gathered on the square for any who cared to sit and listen, instead of dancing.

Will Rafe be here tonight?
she wondered. If he came with Bernice she must be gracious enough to not let the sight throw her off her spiritual balance.

While waiting for Great-aunt Nora to be assisted from the coach, Eden looked at the other guests. Most of the ladies wore exquisite gowns and full ensembles. Eden was glad her ensemble lacked nothing in comparison, even if the jewelry she wore belonged to Candace—who insisted she wear the blue topaz to complement the undertone of the satin’s silvery-blue color.

The men were arrayed in fine evening clothes, but one young man in particular stood out in any masculine crowd. Her gaze struck gold as it stumbled over Rafe Easton.

So, then, he did come
, she thought uneasily.
He’s bound to ask me about Kip. This won’t be pleasant
.

Eden glanced at Great-aunt Nora and felt a bubble of suspicion rise. She wondered if Nora had invited her to be her aide when Rafe was the real reason she was invited. Nora may have thought she was doing the right thing in bringing Eden to where Rafe could see her.

It wasn’t as if Nora sympathized with her loss of Rafe to Parker Judson’s niece in the grandmotherly way Noelani did.

“Mooning over such losses is a waste of one’s life,” Nora had said. “One must arise from the mourner’s bench and press ahead to new challenges, new opportunities.”

And then, conveniently, along came what Nora called “the handsome Oliver” Hunnewell. “Have you given a second thought to this bachelor who is just waiting to be snatched up by a clever young lady? And such a family, too.”

Rich, powerful, feared, and therefore, respected. Not respected due to character but because the Hunnewells carried a symbolic “bullwhip.” One of a lesser social class must never cross a Hunnewell. Therefore, any young woman who caught him would be considered fortunate.

Great-aunt Nora may, however, have wanted her here tonight to help her get a loan for the tottering
Gazette
from Rafe Easton.

Well, I’m not about to go to him again over money!
she thought for the umpteenth time. She couldn’t rest easy thinking of the payment due for all the supplies on Kalawao. What an embarrassing situation to be in! Especially now, when they were no longer engaged.

And how can I worry Father about overdue bills when he’s just recovered from his heart attack? Oh, Lord, help me
, she prayed.

Rafe noticed her, and their gaze briefly touched. Eden tried to look unperturbed over his presence. She turned her shoulder toward him. She hadn’t seen Bernice with him, but Bernice may be elsewhere at the moment. Then again, Rafe may not have brought her since Parker Judson was a known annexationist.

“Ah, look who’s here,” Zachary said with pretended surprise. “Why it’s our old pal Rafe Easton. Let’s go say hello to him, Eden, Aunt Nora …”

“Nonsense, Zachary,” Nora quipped. “A lady doesn’t barge into a circle of men—and look at Mr. Cook smoking that odious cigar. Revolting. I can smell it clear over here. Shameful.” She drew out a lace handkerchief and fanned it in front of her face letting the fragrance of lavender permeate their surroundings.

Zachary coughed. “Oh, that lavender—too strong, Aunt. Why not try jasmine next time.”

“Oh please! Must we carry on like this?” Eden snapped. “Let’s go inside!”

“Yes, quite,” Zachary apologized. “This way, ladies. I’ll bring you into the palace.”

Just then the unexpected appearance of Dr. Jerome caught their attention. They stopped and looked at him.

“Uncle Jerome,” Zachary mused, scowling. “Now why is he here tonight?”

“Did he mention being invited, Aunt Nora?”

“Dear Jerome, unlike that scallywag Ainsworth, is believed by many at court to be a fair and just man and, by the by, a supporter of Liliuokalani.”

“That’s the first I’ve heard of him being a monarchist,” Zachary mumbled. “The other day I heard him tell Ambrose that the leper colony on Molokai would be much better off under American supervision.”

“Indeed it would,” Eden agreed.

“Sure it would. There would be funds for better housing, better food, and well—better everything. America has gobs of money. American officials can spread it around the globe like gold dust and then just tax the rich to pay the bills. And everyone around the globe loves them for it, too.”

Nora glared at him. “Sometimes I take you seriously.”

Eden did not think her father was a monarchist. If given the choice to decide, he would have opted for annexation—no doubt for some of the very reasons Zachary mentioned in his cynical humor.

Thankfully, Eden’s father, stronger after his physical setback, and encouraged by his loyal friend, Ambrose, was recovering from Rebecca’s death to find spiritual purpose for his future. The living seed of God’s Word was sprouting anew. Grandfather Ainsworth had suggested that Jerome might run for Townsend’s old seat in the Legislature. Whether this was mere hope on her grandfather’s part or a realistic possibility, she did not dare guess.

“I don’t believe Father’s invitation was political at all. His work in leprosy research on Kalawao, though short-lived, is why he received an invitation. He’s respected, regardless of his political allegiance,” Eden explained.

“Leave it to a woman to straighten me out,” Zachary said with a sigh.

“Well said, dear Eden,” Nora boasted. “The queen is above petty politics.”

Zachary almost hooted his laughter. “Bring out the flag, bring out the drums and flutes.”

Great-aunt Nora lifted her walking stick. “Hush.”

Jerome walked over to see Rafe. Eden watched as they shook hands. Then her father laid his other hand upon Rafe’s shoulder. She guessed her father was praising the outcome of his restored vision during his stay in San Francisco under Dr. William Kelly, though they all recognized the recovery was due to God’s grace. Did Rafe know the mission church under Ambrose had held a constant prayer vigil for his recovery? Surely Keno must have told him, she decided.

“Why Miss Nora, how pleasant to see you again,” came a voice behind Eden. She turned as a familiar figure in a fine dinner jacket bent over Nora’s extended hand as if she were the queen. It was Oliver Hunnewell, and his smile was not only for Nora but also for Eden.

“You know my niece, Miss Derrington, of course?”

“Indeed I do. So good to see you again, Miss Derrington.” Once again he bowed slightly in the British fashion as Nora continued. “And this is Mr. Oliver P. Hunnewell, as you know.”

For a frightening moment Eden almost laughed, remembering the way Keno and Rafe had made fun of Oliver’s continual usage of his middle initial. She struggled to keep a poised expression, lowering her eyes. This may have been a mistake, for when she was able to look at him again he wore a pleased smile, as though he thought his presence had overwhelmed her into girlish retreat from his charms.

She stared back evenly trying to show him otherwise, but that seemed to please him more. Her cheeks flushed. She was sure he also took that as a sign of his sweeping triumph.

“I hope I shall have the privilege of at least one waltz this evening, Miss Derrington?”

“Well Oliver, it’s a surprise to see you back in Honolulu,” Zachary cut in. “So soon, too, after my cousin Candace gave your engagement ring the old one-two and heave-ho.” He snorted.

Eden heard a faint gasp from Great-aunt Nora. Oliver drew himself to full height, which then matched the blond elegant figure that Zachary cut in his dinner clothes.

“I beg your pardon, Mr. Derrington?” Oliver said.

Oh, no…. Next Oliver will be hauling out his white glove to flip across Zachary’s smiling face
.

“Hello Oliver,” Rafe Easton said from behind them. Eden let out a breath of relief, something she would not have done five minutes earlier. She’d rather face Rafe’s questions about Kip than tolerate conflict between Oliver and Zachary.

“Rafe,” Oliver acknowledged.

“Welcome back to Honolulu.”

“Thank you,” Oliver said stiffly. He turned back toward Eden. “I look forward to our waltz, Miss Derrington.”

Eden saw Rafe look at Oliver and then glance at her.

Ah, ha!
She turned to Oliver, smiling demurely. “As do I, Mr. Hunnewell.”

Oliver smiled, bowed slightly, nodded to Nora, and strode toward the palace steps.

“I’ve never been so shocked, Zachary,” Great-aunt Nora scolded. “Have you no manners?”

“What did he do now?” Rafe inquired. “Forget to use the ‘P’ in Oliver’s royal title?”

Eden swished her fan in front of her face to hide a smile.

Zachary glowered. “That fellow really believes he is a noble. All I said was—”

“All you said was an insult about his losing Candace,” Nora scolded. “One never says things like that in proper society. You don’t point out that a man’s fiancée has given the engagement ring the old ‘heave-ho.’” Nora looked at Rafe for confirmation.

Rafe smiled, but Eden caught a glint in his eyes. “Women are good at giving engagement rings the old heave-ho—though some like to keep them as souvenirs.”

Zachary chortled. “Or sell them.”

Nora groaned. Eden turned away. “Aunt Nora? Are you coming with me? The guests are going indoors. The band is tuning up. I don’t want to miss my waltz with such a gentleman as Oliver.”

“Yes, of course dear. Come along Zachary, give me your arm, dear boy. I do forgive you—this time. But do behave yourself this evening.”

Zachary exchanged glances with Rafe. Eden did not know what it meant. Was it a signal for something? She knew Zachary had gone to Rafe’s hotel earlier with news that undoubtedly had something to do with Silas and the cartel, and perhaps Oliver as well.

“Rafe, won’t you join us? You did come alone?” Nora asked meaningfully.

“I shall be pleased to join you, Miss Nora,” Rafe smoothly replied. As if on cue, Zachary released Eden’s arm, and took Great-aunt Nora’s. Eden found Rafe walking beside her, and then slowing his step as he took her by the forearm.

“Wait … I want to talk to you about Kip,” he said in a low voice. “Let Nora and Zach get ahead of us.”

“Oh but I can’t,” she taunted. “You see, I’m so busy. You can get the information from Mrs. Celestine if ever I find time to send it. And until then, Mr. Easton, if you wish to request an appointment, I’ll need to check my schedule. I shall never again go to Hawaiiana to be insulted by that—that awful feline cat-woman you have running your life for you!”

Rafe smiled, looking undisturbed. “Cat-woman?” he said. “Oh you mustn’t be so hard on little Bunny.”

She didn’t believe he called her that, but that he enjoyed making her think so.

His eyes defied. “Ready to talk?”

She dug in her heels.

“Oh I simply can’t,” she said in a hushed voice. “I shall miss my waltz with … Ollie. That’s what I call him.”

She saw the flicker of anger in his dark eyes.

“Do you indeed, Miss Derrington? How charming. The waltzes come later,” he added coolly. “Or did you also want to polka with Mr. P.? I’m sure he’ll oblige you with a hop about the floor if you smile at him enough.”

Eden bestowed her sweetest smile on him, her heart beating with anger. “My amusements are less dramatic. What about yours, Mr. Easton? Do you like to hop about the dance floor with your little Bunny?”

He tilted his dark head. “A slow romantic waltz is more to my liking. How about you, Miss Derrington, are you willing to oblige my preference?”

Their eyes held.

“I told you, I’m very busy. What did you want to talk to me about?”

He folded his arms. “Take a guess.” He glanced about the courtyard. “Let’s go somewhere and talk. I won’t keep you long. I wouldn’t want to make Ollie jealous.”

“You forget yourself, sir,” she said loftily, snapping open her feather fan and swishing it provocatively. “I don’t know about your Bunny, but I never wander off in the twilight with a man unless I’ve an escort.”

His jaw flexed.

“If there’s anything detrimental in your mother’s journal I want to know exactly what it is. Even if I need to carry you off to the coach and drive to Kea Lani to get the facts. I want to see that journal.”

“Rebecca’s journal is in my bedroom locked away. I don’t think you’ll risk arrest by Marshal Harper for break-in and entry.”

Their eyes held. His cynical amusement vanished. He grabbed her arm and propelled her toward the carriageway where the various coaches and buggies were parked.

“Are you going to talk, or do we go to Kea Lani?”

“You won’t find the journal even if you do.”

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