Jewel of the Pacific

by Linda Lee Chaikin

  Zach nodded. “So if she’s listening to this tarot card woman, Wolf, what does that say about the queen’s spiritual discernment?”

  “We don’t know her that well, but I suspect someone in her inner circle does know her well enough to take advantage of this as means to deceive her and get her to make certain political moves.”

  “Who would that be? It wouldn’t be Oliver. He has no easy access,” Zach said.

  “And Silas even less.”

  “You’re right,” Zach said grudgingly. “Silas isn’t that important to the queen, and he doesn’t know enough to pass things on to the tarot card reader.”

  “So it has to be someone at Iolani who at least has access,” Rafe said. “He or she must be trusted by Liliuokalani, and must know some of her schedule and her agenda. If those making decisions on Hawaiian affairs of government are going to be guided through tarot cards, then someone who knows enough of what’s going on with the queen has to inform this Wolf woman how to interpret as she flips her deck of cards.”

  “You’re absolutely right. So then …” Zach sounded a little disappointed. “Silas is a low-level.” He frowned. “Even so, he’s in with the cartel. And so is Oliver.”

  So, Rafe thought, my suspicions were right all along. The gambling syndicate—and probably the opium dealers—are preying on the queen’s vulnerability by influencing her through a soothsayer. When men worship at the altar of greed it motivates the human heart to have no moral boundaries. The tarot card woman is just one more false teacher leading foolish people down the wrong path.

  “I must say,” Zach said thoughtfully, “I’m disappointed in the queen. She must be spiritually naïve. If she knew the Scriptures, she would never allow that fortune-teller to waste her time.”

  “That’s one reason men like Thurston and others want a republic rather than a monarchy. If we don’t have wise leadership we need the right to vote them out. With royalty, you’re stuck with the family for generations. All Europe is a picture of what happens when a royal family must rule.”

  And just how much was Silas involved in this new ruse?

  It’s time to talk to Silas, Rafe decided. And it would be wise to have Ambrose there when he did.

  Rafe thought of the ball. Tonight Oliver would be at Iolani Palace. Was it a coincidence? Or was he coming to meet someone … perhaps the individual who had information for the “Wolf”?

  Rafe gripped Zach’s shoulder. “Zach, you’ve been a big help. I believe you’ve put me on the right track with the information on Oliver. He’ll lead me straight to the person tricking the queen to trust the card readings.” He smiled. “Maybe you should seek the office of marshal, or start your own private detective agency.”

  Zachary flushed at the compliment. For the first time he was speechless.

  Rafe laughed and pushed him toward his dinner clothes. “C’mon, Zach, we’ve a lot of work to do tonight!”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Dinner at Iolani Palace

  The sky behind the feathery boughs of the jacaranda trees was turning from a greenish-blue to lemon and crimson, and the air was sweet with the scent of flowering blooms. The Derrington coach bringing Eden, Zachary, and Great-aunt Nora to the queen’s ball rolled smoothly along King Street toward Iolani Palace.

  Eden smiled at her great-aunt, proud that she looked so sedate and trim in her dark satin gown. Why Nora had never married in her youth remained a mystery. She had never explained, and no one in the family seemed to know, including Ainsworth.

  Nora’s reputation as a royalist and friend of the queen allowed for Zachary’s presence as their male escort, even though Great-aunt Nora suspected her “dear boy’s” interest in attending hinged on his personal investigative activity for the Gazette.

  “It’s true I have my suspicions about tonight, Aunt Nora,” Zachary confessed, seated across from her and Eden. “I’m admitting to my masquerade as a good and loyal supporter of Liliuokalani.”

  “Rubbish, dear boy. Keep in mind we are all royalists here tonight. Away with useless suspicions! There will be no spying on Liliuokalani.” She poked her cane into his chest from across the seat.

  “You see what it has come to, Eden?” he jested. “The lady is resorting to threats and physical abuse. Seriously, Aunt! Don’t you realize some of the strongest proponents of annexation are members of this legislature? They’ve come to dine and dance to the music of the Royal Hawaiian Band, not to support Liliuokalani in her wish to burn the ’87 Constitution.”

  “You sound suspicious yourself as a secret annexationist. Be that as it may, I didn’t arrange for you to accompany Eden and me here tonight to spy on the queen.”

  “The Gazette would be wiser to allow latitude for more serious undercover work on the queen and her loyalists than printing what kinds of fruits she had for luncheon, or what charitable potluck she went to on Friday afternoon. The Gazette must print the truth, Aunt Nora. Otherwise why have a newspaper? Might as well print fairy tales and hand them out on King Street … let’s see, how about ‘The Emperor’s New Clothes’? Sounds like Honolulu politics.” He laughed cynically.

  “By all means print the truth. Let the aftermath fall where it may. I’ve no interest in covering up the truth. But this razzle-dazzle rhetoric coming from the ‘Thurston Party,’” she said disparagingly of the Reform Party and its main annexationist, Lorrin Thurston, “is outright poppycock against Liliuokalani.”

  “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 loo
ked 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.”