To herself she thought, Honolulu does have at least one snake. A green one. I carried it into the garden less than an hour ago.
Chapter Eight
Two Brothers
When Eden entered the plantation house, Great-aunt Nora was not in her guest room but was waiting in the living room. Eden had always loved this room. She recalled the time when Rafe had shown her the house plans, saying he wanted her approval because it was being designed with her in mind—the bride who would reign here, as well as in his heart …
The room was walled on three sides, while the fourth had an archway with intricate wrought-iron scrollwork screen doors. The screened side accessed the lanai that faced an enclosed garden of tropical foliage, delicate ferns, and flowers. Her favorite tree was the poinciana, with blossoms in lush crimson, and there was an aged hau tree with a plethora of sunny yellow blossoms.
Through the background of thriving foliage Eden caught glimpses of an early moon rising in the tropical dusk, a gem from the Creator’s hand, appearing nearly within her grasp. As she glanced about she felt the romantic loss of Rafe, but refused to yield to the painful longing.
Great-aunt Nora, according to Silas, was to introduce him for the first time to Ainsworth as his “unexpected” nephew from California, the firstborn son of Townsend. Just how Grandfather Ainsworth would respond to the occasion of a new nephew, Eden would not hazard to guess. It was widely known that Ainsworth frowned upon Townsend’s immoral behavior. But the question remained; would he accept Silas on an equal basis with Zachary?
Townsend too, was supposed to be here with Silas as they faced the momentous introduction with Ainsworth, but Eden wondered if Townsend would show after that horrible episode between Townsend and Celestine that left Eden sickened. The introduction offered an opportunity for Townsend to position Silas as a Derrington with all rights and privileges, with Great-aunt Nora standing beside them, adding weight to the appeal.
Townsend was now absent, and only she and Silas knew why. His absence could not be explained easily without unmasking the tragedy that had occurred with Celestine.
Townsend’s absence would give Ainsworth and Great-aunt Nora the impression of irresponsibility, which in Eden’s mind was true, but emphasizing this would not help Silas. Sin, Eden thought, ruined whatever it came in contact with. It corrupted what God intended to be good and noble.
But in John’s gospel Christ had taught, “I am come that they might have life, and that they might have it more abundantly.”
She wondered about Silas, unsure how to feel about his character and motives. Was he a cousin who should have her loyalty, sympathy, and support? Or was he shrewd and calculating? After the confrontation with Townsend and Celestine, Eden thought he might be misunderstood. At times, he seemed to have humility and a heart that could be reached, that would respond. But then, his remark at the doorstep about the serpent in the garden had come with a mischievous, even sinister amusement.
Now, Eden left Silas in the outer hall looking at the paintings of the Eastons on the wall above the stairway and, in particular, the painting of Rafe’s father, Matt Easton. She entered through the archway into the living room, where Nora was seated in a rather royal-looking chair in front of the lanai. There was a magnificent vista of ferns, orchids, fragrant gardenias, and a quiet pond with white kea fish with diagonal designs in bright red, blue, black, and gold. Behind all this stretched the sandy beach, palm trees, and the oceans waves softened by an offshore reef.
Great-aunt Nora had never accepted the notion that older women should dress primarily in dark blue or black. For the dinner tonight she wore a smartly tailored burgundy gown of silky texture, the color flattering to her fragile skin and platinum hair worn elegantly in the style of Queen Victoria. She smiled warmly at Eden, closed the leather-bound journal shed been writing in, and placed it in a knitting bag. Nora could neither sew well nor knit. “Even as a girl of fifteen, I was all thumbs,” she had said, “so as soon as I was old enough to do as I pleased, I gave up on handwork and turned to writing during my free hours.”
Eden entered the living room and forced a smile, unwilling to worry Nora over Celestine at the present. “How’s the book coming, Auntie?” she said cheerfully, looking pointedly at the knitting bag with the journal. Eden had a genuine interest in Nora’s work. In the past, Eden had assisted her in gathering historical data. Sometimes she had even helped edit the manuscript before mailing it to the publisher. Nora’s first book, written on the early Hawaiian history of the Kamehameha I monarchy, was completed during the time Eden attended Chadwick Medical School. On one occasion Nora had come to San Francisco and lectured at the historic Palace Hotel, where Eden, Zachary, and Grandfather Ainsworth had been in attendance. Rafe was there, while the pineapple slips were aboard his ship, and his first meeting with Parker Judson occurred there to bring about their partnership in the pineapple plantation. From that moment onward Ainsworth had groaned over the fact that he had failed to believe in Rafe and partner with him.
Eden hadn’t read any of the manuscript Nora was working on, for she was too busy at Kalihi Hospital. For some reason, though, Nora seemed to be keeping the contents of the book wrapped in mystery. Eden did know that, unlike her first book, this one dealt more with family history than with the monarchy She had learned that both the Derrington and Easton history on the Islands was written from Nora’s perspective. Though Nora hadn’t come out and said so, Eden suspected some of the information would not please Ainsworth.
“Ah, there you are, my dear. The new book? It’s coming along too slowly. Celestine has the first chapters.” She frowned. “I seem to have mislaid some of the later chapters though. I can’t think what I may have done with them.”
“Perhaps you left them at Tamarind House,” Eden said of Great-aunt Nora’s big house near Diamond Head, willed to her by Eden’s Great-grandmother Amabel.
“Yes, that must be it. I won’t worry about it now.”
As Eden knew, Nora hadn’t been strong recently, though she wouldn’t admit to the fact, for it would mean she must be slowing down her routine. Eden scrutinized her for a moment through medical eyes and could recognize the signs of weakening stamina. She retrieved Dr. Bolton’s prescription from her satchel.
“Before I forget, here’s your new medicine. You’re to take it before dinner. Dr. Bolton insists you take it twice a day, when you first rise and at bedtime.”
Nora made a sound of impatience. “What is it? Heart medicine again? I don’t need it. I told him so.”
“Great-aunt Nora!”
Nora broke into a smile as though she enjoyed putting up a fuss just to see Eden’s reaction. Eden came beside Nora to a koa wood table and set the bottle down with a decided click.
Nora winced. “You sound just like a nurse. They always set the medicine down with that certain click. Obey, or else.”
Eden smiled. “Then I’ll live up to the reputation of an efficient one. If I find out you’re neglecting what’s good for you, I’ll tell Rafe. He’ll make sure you take it as prescribed.”
“Spare me. I won’t have him coming here twice a day to play nanny.”
Eden laughed at such a ludicrous image of Rafe.
Nora gestured at her empty coffee cup. “All I need is a good night’s sleep, which is proving impossible with all this dreadfully strong Kona coffee he has here. Keeps me awake. I haven’t slept soundly since I left Tamarind. I keep telling Rafe to grow tea. The rascal laughs at me.”
Eden laughed, too. Tea, in Hawaii.
“I understand there was an early attempt to grow tea here and produce silk as well,” Eden said. “I think sugar, pineapples, and Kona coffee are quite enough for one Island. And now, you must take the medication so you can stay strong enough to support the monarchy. You’re running the Gazette now, too. With Zachary’s help, of course, but he tells me you’re putting in many long hours.” Nora was considering making Zachary editor-in-chief, a position he desperately craved. Even now, he was the
lead editor and writer.
“I must put in long hours at the Gazette. We’re having financial difficulties. Zachary believes he can get us a loan, but he won’t say who from, and I suspect it would come from Ainsworth, and I won’t have it. So I’ve told him to forget trying. Somehow we will bring the sales up to pay off the debt I’ve incurred for the last two years. If not, I may end up needing to relinquish the Gazette. That, to me, would be a tragedy.”
“Surely someone in the family can lend you money to pay the creditors?” Eden said, incredulously. The thought of losing the Gazette troubled her also.
“Ainsworth controls the Derrington purse, my dear, should you have forgotten. Townsend, too, is in debt, but for reckless reasons. Gambling. Ainsworth has finally refused to cover his debts.”
So that was the reason for her uncle’s desperation in wanting to reclaim Hanalei from the contract he’d made with Parker Judson.
“Anyway, Ainsworth’s the last person I’ll come to for a loan, though as his sister, I’ve as much right to the Derrington inheritance as he. Of course, I have Tamarind House and its sugar lands, but I should hate to let go of it. I want to leave it all intact, as an inheritance for one of my four nieces and nephews.”
One of the four nieces and nephews? Apparently Great-aunt Nora had decided to accept Silas as a true Derrington. This would alarm Zachary.
“Oh, Ainsworth would be delighted to lend me money, by all means. It would grant him the leverage to interfere in what the Gazette prints. He’d expect me to have articles in favor of annexation. What I need is for Rafe to come back,” Nora said wistfully. “Oh to have a few of those superlative articles he did a few years ago on the monarchy. He’s been difficult enough to get along with recently. I can’t get a simple yes or no out of him when it concerns supporting Liliuokalani. I do believe he’s a writer, not a planter.” Nora turned a sharpened gaze on Eden.“What’s come over him, recently? I would think you, at least, would be able to influence him to work for the Queen. Really, Eden. What a shame you’re delaying the engagement.”
“Please don’t mention the broken engagement in front of Grandfather or my father. Neither of them have said a word to me about Rafe. I want to keep the matter quiet until I know what his plans are.”
“Jerome’s plans? Or Rafe’s?”
“Dr. Jerome’s,” Eden said, more familiar with the term for his renowned reputation than for the term for relationship as her father. “I want to know what he plans for his research work in leprosy.”
Nora frowned. “Don’t tell me you still wish to go traipsing about diseased jungles with him like some devoted gypsy. It’s a dreadful risk to your own health. No wonder Rafe is difficult to get on with. He’s worried about you, both of the plantations—Hawaiiana and Hanalei—and Celestine. If that weren’t enough, Jerome arrives to sweep you off on some dubious research on rotting human flesh.”
“Nora, dearest, please. I’d rather not talk of leprosy, Rafe, or my father’s arrival now. I want the family dinner this evening to be a pleasant one.”
Was she being naive? Could this evening’s dinner actually be pleasant? She thought of Celestine’s miserable meeting with Townsend and cringed.
If Rafe was concerned for his mother before, what would he think now?
Even though Silas warned her to not mention the incident to Rafe, she couldn’t help feeling uneasy. What if Silas found something to benefit him personally from the unfortunate circumstance?
“I shall say nothing to Ainsworth and Jerome of the sad state of your relationship with Rafe,” Great-aunt Nora said soothingly and reached over to pat Eden’s hand. “I’ll even thank you, dear, for coming here to bring me Dr. Bolton’s prescription.” She reached over to the table, took the bottle, and put it inside her knitting bag.
Eden squeezed her hand. “It’s because we all love you. Do take it as prescribed.”
“Well, I’m pleased somebody loves me. Yes, I’ll take it, dear.”
Eden wondered if she truly would. “By the way, Silas is waiting in the hall. Did you tell him you’d introduce him to Grandfather before dinner tonight?”
“Somebody must get them to face each other for the first time. Townsend’s to be here as well, not that he’ll be much help, that malingerer.”
Townsend has returned to Kea Lani, thought Eden, but she couldn’t say so without having to explain how she knew.
“I can’t say I’m much pleased about Ainsworth returning from Washington so unexpectedly. He’s boasting about winning over the U.S. Senate. Such audacity—he and Thurston, both. Those two are cut from the same piece of cloth.”
Eden was about to tell her that she needn’t be awaiting his arrival, when a voice came from the doorway.
“Am I interrupting?”
Silas walked over to where Nora sat and brushed his lips against the upturned cheek of the lady who expected regal recognition from all of her great-nephews and nieces, especially a “new” nephew. But now she cast him an irritated glance.
“I wish you wouldn’t keep sneaking up on me like that, Silas. I could almost think you were deliberately eavesdropping,” she accused.
After what happened earlier in the evening with Celestine and Townsend, Eden felt uncomfortable.
Silas grinned disarmingly. “Now, Aunt, what other kind of eavesdropping is there but deliberate? And what else would you expect from a man accused of gathering secrets about the family for his own selfish ends?”
A second unexpected voice surprised them from the lanai. “And do you have ‘selfish ends,’ Cousin Silas?” Candace entered and stood looking at him. For a brief moment, Eden thought she caught a slight frown.
“Why, of course, Cousin Candace. Don’t we all?”
“No,” she said decisively.
“Well, I admit to having them—to win the warm affection of my new family. What else would you expect?”
“Yes, what else?” Great-aunt Nora repeated.
“Ah, dear Great-aunt! Always tart! But beloved nonetheless.”
“Nonsense. You’re a worse rascal than Rafe.”
He looked at Eden. “You shouldn’t say these things in front of Eden. You’ll convince her I should be avoided.”
“She doesn’t need much convincing,” Nora said. “And you’d better watch that tongue of yours around Rafe, or you might end up with a bruised lip.”
“Ooh!” he winced. “Yes, well. Then I wouldn’t want to offend my amiable host now, would I? Or is he also my brother?” He looked at Eden.
“I suppose he is, rather,” Eden said.
“You may be more of a scamp than even I think you are,” Great-aunt Nora snapped.
Silas looked amused. “You’re the one in this family with a true sense of humor, Nora. I’m becoming extremely fond of you.”
“Zachary would suggest it was my newspaper you’ve taken such fondness to.”
“Ah, yes … Zachary.” He looked at Eden with a glint in his eyes. “Need I say more?”
“No,” Candace said, walking around Nora’s chair and laying a hand on her shoulder.
“Hand me my shawl, Candace, will you? That evening breeze can feel a little chilly for a woman my age. That’s it—thank you. Where is Zachary by the way?” She glanced toward the front of the house.
“He was looking over that handsome horse tied out front,” said Candace. “He thought it belonged to Uncle Townsend. Townsend was here earlier—but couldn’t stay.”
Eden looked at Candace. How did she know? Had she seen Celestine enter the house or spoken with her?
“Then Townsend won’t be coming?” Nora asked, troubled.
“No, he returned to Kea Lani.” Candace walked over to the lanai and looked into the garden, as though uncomfortable about something.
“The horse does belong to Townsend,” Silas said unexpectedly. “I noticed her in the stables this morning. The stable boy told me Townsend bought the mare a few months ago to breed with Rafe’s stallion. He had the mare brought over by ship. There
’s a fine breeder around Sacramento by the name of Wilder. I wonder if Rafe knows of him?”
“If there’s a good breeder somewhere, Rafe will have heard of him,” Eden said. “He and Zachary are both interested in fine horses.”
“Anyway, Townsend gave me permission to ride her this morning,” Silas said. “So I first rode up the lava slopes, then back here to Hawaiiana. The sights were incredible.”
“Silas, I don’t want anything unpleasant to occur between you and the other two young men,” Great-aunt Nora warned, changing the subject.
“I’m willing to get along. It’s Zachary who’d like to send me packing back to San Francisco.”
“Never mind Zachary. You just do your part to avoid trouble, or it will upset Eden.”
“I’m sure Eden has more important matters on her mind.” He looked at Eden as if he shared some little secret with her. His eyes were bright and curious.
“Such as my father’s medical research?” She spoke quickly to hide her uneasiness, and with a shade too much emphasis.
“That, too, is very intriguing. I was thinking, though,” his voice casual, “of Rafe’s new support for the annexation movement. That must be upsetting to anyone supporting the queen. Some would call him a turncoat.”
“Turncoat!” Eden said, momentarily disconcerted. He had her full attention. Rafe had told her earlier that day in the buggy that he hadn’t come to any firm decision. Then she remembered his anger at the Board of Health over Kip and his words against the monarchy. Could Silas have met with Rafe since then?
Nora stood. “Pah! Whatever are you saying, Silas?” An anxious frown tugged at her white brows.
“And in Rafe’s own house,” Candace said crisply.
“Yes, whatever gave you the right?” Eden said. “Turncoat, indeed!”
“My dear ladies!” He placed hand at heart, as he looked from one to the other in what Eden saw as feigned regret. “I seem to have spoken too soon on the subject,” he said. “I would have thought you all realized … but it appears I was mistaken. Perhaps we should let the matter go,” he said with unexpected deference. He stooped and retrieved the shawl Nora had let slip from her shoulders to the floor.
Spoils of Eden Page 12
