Her anger wanted to rise up against her grandfather’s conniving ways, but she kept telling herself Ainsworth probably didn’t mean to harm, but to strengthen. What he appeared not to understand, or perhaps refused to deal with, was that family blessing did not grow from pragmatic manipulation to gain wealth and influence, but from incorporating God’s revealed truths into lives and relationships.
For Eden, the more she matured the more disturbing it was to discover the erroneous mind-set and actions of the dignified patriarch, the son of an early missionary.
“Sometimes I don’t understand Ainsworth,” she commented wearily.
Rafe looked at her, taking note of the burden she felt for her family.
“After all, he was raised the son of a wonderful missionary.”
“One would think that children reared by godly parents would turn out the same way,” he agreed. “We know it doesn’t always happen that way. Samuel and his sons are an example of that. While Samuel was loyal to God and to Israel, his sons, as corrupt judges, took bribes and were part of the reason Israel gave for wanting a king to rule over them, which God said was rebellion against Him. I was thinking of something similar to this just recently at Hanalei.”
She looked at him, curious.
“I did something I haven’t done since the actual funeral took place years ago. I went to my father’s grave,” he said. “I thought of my grandfather, also a missionary like Ainsworth’s father. My grandfather, his son Matt, and I were all very different. Our parents or grandparents may have walked with God, but we are not less responsible for our decisions, and God isn’t going to eradicate the consequences of our actions just because we came from a Christian family. Nations founded on righteous principles are also not guaranteed the safety and blessing of the next generation.”
Eden normally assumed her dignified and sometimes overpowering grandfather, so brilliant in the ways of sugar business and politics, was a seasoned saint who should also be wise in the ways of the Bible and prayer. Eden thought of the painting of godly Jedaiah Derrington above the stairway at Kea Lani and realized that all that Jedaiah was could not guarantee his son Ainsworth would follow his footsteps.
“I’ve no appetite for the luncheon yet. Let’s walk, shall we?” Rafe suggested.
“Did Grandfather Ainsworth tell you there’s to be a family meeting tomorrow evening about Townsend?” Eden asked.
“He told me. Though I don’t see what good it’s supposed to do us. Townsend has stepped beyond the boundary of what his father may think of the matter. I would like to have the authorities handling him.” He gave her a sober look. “You might as well know I wired P.J. this morning. He’s mentioned the Pinkerton Detective Agency to me before. I’ve asked him to go ahead and hire a man. I want Townsend tracked down. The sooner he’s brought in for questioning by the law, the sooner we can all get on with our normal lives.”
“Grandfather isn’t likely to approve, but I do think it was a wise decision. It should help Celestine feel more secure, too.”
“You’re right. I’m not going to have my mother so frightened that she fears to leave the house with Kip.”
“Could it be he thinks she doesn’t know about the attempt he made with Great-aunt Nora’s medicine? Maybe he thinks she’d receive him in the house. He is her husband.”
“It’s Parker Judson’s place. He calls the shots on who comes in and who doesn’t. But you have a point. Townsend may believe he can get by with it because Celestine is unaware of what’s happened.”
“Rafe,” she said, pausing to look at him. “You don’t think he’d— well, try and do harm, do you?”
She wondered whether she should have brought it up when she saw the hard glint in his dark eyes.
“Townsend bears a dangerous nature. Like Cain, he’s riled by jealousy. He perceives a right to be Ainsworth’s inheritor. And he actually thinks he has more right to my father’s estate than I do. Reasonable or not, one who thinks that way may do most anything to defend his rights.”
Eden, mulling over Rafe’s description of her uncle, thought he was correct. Townsend had always been a fighter for what he said was his, but little of what he claimed had been earned, and he showed no thankfulness to God, because he was “merely possessing what was his.” For years Rafe had said Townsend was responsible for Matt’s death, and while she may have agreed to some extent, she had never grappled with the awful conclusion that Townsend was dangerous.
“Harm Celestine?” he said thoughtfully. “He worries me, and I’ve no confidence in his character. He has at times displayed an unhealthy jealousy for his wife, and he has a ruthless manner that slowly destroys the other person.”
Eden shuddered thinking back over incidents between her uncle and Rafe’s mother. In the past she and others thought, Well, that’s Townsend for you, that’s just the way he is. She knew she would pray more often that when the confrontation between Rafe and Townsend came, Rafe would be wise and willing to commit the outcome to the law. And what was most important to Eden was that Rafe come out of the situation unsullied, his fellowship with the Lord undisturbed by carnal wrath.
May it be so, O Lord. Keep Rafe from stumbling into vengeance and tragedy.
Chapter Fourteen
Secret Spy
Candace Derrington unpacked her portmanteau and hung her evening dress in the guest chamber closet at Hunnewell’s beachfront house. She was here to have dinner tonight with Oliver and his widowed father, Thaddeus, who was even now preparing for his trip to Washington D.C. Other guests would be present, including her cousin Zachary—reluctant dinner date for Claudia Hunnewell—and also the British commissioner and consul general in Hawaii, James H. Wodehouse, and several members of his staff, their wives, and a few assistants.
Candace was surprised upon discovering that the commissioner would be guest of honor at the dinner.
Now why would the British commissioner come here? The question held her interest for some time until she had opportunity to meet with Oliver for a brief walk on Waikiki after lunch.
Oliver didn’t appear to mind her questions. His breezy laughter merely strengthened her conviction that he believed women, even smart women like Candace and Great-aunt Nora, should keep their footprints out of politics.
“And why shouldn’t the British commissioner come to dinner?” he asked with a forebearing smile twisted on his lips. “There’s no accounting for the oddities of friendship, my dear Candace.”
My dear Candace. She loathed the way he put it. Don’t trouble your feminine intellect with such deep concerns, dear.
Marriage to Oliver would have its stresses and strains.
Keno never spoke to her like this. Keno saw her as a woman. He was romantic, funny, charming, and treated her well. Candace with her finishing-school manners, her education, her interest in Greek. He appreciated her accomplishments and never felt threatened as though they might infringe on his manliness. He accepted and loved her for who she was. It didn’t make him feel diminished that she liked Greek.
“True,” she said, deliberately pushing back, “but it does seem strange. Your father, I mean.”
“Indeed, how so?” They walked along the white sand, casting long shadows on the beach, their wide-brimmed hats appearing to touch.
“Well, I would think it obvious as to what I mean,” Candace said. “Is your father not a staunch ally of Misters Thurston and Dole? Your father’s quite prepared to pack his bag to go to Washington to sell annexation of the Islands to the American president.”
“He is, yes.”
“Well, in spite of all that, Mr. Wodehouse comes to sip tea with him. Mr. Wodehouse who hotly disputes annexation? He thinks that if such a diabolical event as annexation should ever occur, he would much prefer Hawaii to become a British colony. Doesn’t it seem peculiar then, my dear Oliver?”
Oliver smiled patiently, as though she had become too upset over the latitude permitted in a man’s world, and needed to calm down, so he artfully changed t
he subject.
When later that afternoon Candace continued to think about the situation, she went to the desk and wrote a brief message. She sent it by one of the serving boys to Eden, at Kalihi Hospital.
Eden received the message and read with interest.
There’s a dinner party at eight o’clock here at Hunnewell’s. After the concerns of three nights ago, guess who’s coming to dinner? The British commissioner. I find this unusual, don’t you? With Thaddeus Hunnewell a strong annexationist, and Britain against American annexation of the Islands? Anyway, Alice has complicated things by catching a cold, and we need a dinner partner for Bill Wallace. Can you come? I’m sure Rafe won’t mind as it’s nothing to do with romance. Here’s your opportunity to sit in and observe. You may have something of interest to pass on to your handsome fiancé next time you see him.
Candace.
Eden went to Aunt Lana and asked if the evening off was possible. When Lana arranged it, Eden quickly wrote Rafe a message at the Legislature.
Darling, would you mind terribly if I share in a candlelight dinner with Bill Wallace (and a dozen others) at Hunnewell’s tonight? Candace has asked me to come. Alice has come down with a cold and someone needs to keep poor Bill company at the table over roast chicken. I’m sure you’re quite sympathetic toward him.
Oh—and my reason for going? Guess who else will be there? The British Commissioner Wodehouse. After your suspicions over a certain missing piece of information we discussed yesterday at Hawaiiana, I may be able to pick up an interesting tidbit here or there that you can use—even from Bill.
Yours ever, Eden
Eden watched from the front door at Kalihi as a Hawaiian boy came scurrying up the steps.
“Message from the Legislature for Miss Eden Derrington.” “Thank you.”
Eden opened the envelope and read in Rafe’s handwriting—
No dinner at Hunnewell’s. No candlelight. No sympathy for Bill Wallace.
R.
Eden scrunched the paper. She quickly wrote a message to inform Candace.
Candace smiled, receiving Eden’s brief return message: Handsome fiancé is totally unsupportive.
“Then I’ll be the one who observes the happenings,” Candace murmured.
Later that evening at Hunnewell’s, Candace Rosalind Derrington stared coolly back at her reflection—auburn hair brushed straight back into a chignon, sharp blue eyes, a sober face, high cheekbones, and slashing brows. Tonight she dressed in a deep blue silk gown, with high neck and cuffed sleeves fringed with lace.
She reflected on the news that Oliver had unexpectedly brought up this afternoon during their walk on the beach. Evidently displeased with her questions, he’d decided to discuss Keno. Oliver told her how he had “caught” Keno on the property the other night “sneaking” about the darkened garden, hoping to spy on her activities.
“He had thought tonight’s dinner party, with you in attendance, was to be held two nights ago,” Oliver explained.
To Candace the worst part of all this was to learn that Oliver and Keno had “physically tangled.” She was not the sort of girl whose ego spiraled upward to learn that two men had fought over her. It seemed hideous actually, and then Keno almost getting arrested. She was thankful to Eden for coming forward in Keno’s defense, and to Rafe for confronting Thaddeus Hunnewell over Oliver demanding Keno be prosecuted, as if he were some sort of underling!
Candace snapped her hairbrush down on the vanity table. She found nothing flattering about two men slugging it out while she supposedly stood in the background, breathlessly prepared to swoon over the victor, who would ride her off into the sunset.
“Absurd,” she murmured to herself dourly. “If either one of them ever considers me a bag of produce to fight over and then sling across his saddle as booty, well! They’ll have a shock coming—I’ll box both their ears.”
How pleasant it would be just to sneak aboard the steamer leaving on Sunday with Grandfather Ainsworth, then hide in San Francisco with Rafe’s mother, Celestine. It wasn’t that Candace considered herself a victim of her grandfather’s ploy to have her marry Oliver. She had voluntarily cooperated with his patriarchal family law. When he’d told her he would run Keno out of Hawaii if she married him, she knew that somehow, some way, he would. “We need the Hunnewells and they need us,” he’d said. “Just like we need the Eastons, the Judsons, and the Doles. We must bond together. This mind-set is key to the future of the Islands. That’s what it’s all about, Candace, saving the Hawaiian Islands and making them a part of the United States.”
Was it? Though she could exhibit a strong will to box the ears of Oliver and Keno if necessary, such was not the case with Grandfather Ainsworth. Perhaps she inherited too much of his personality to oppose him.
It must be the father figure, she thought with a sigh. Both Eden and I desire a missing father/daughter relationship, a stable authority figure, and though we know it’s found in a personal relationship with our true Father God, we still seem to respond emotionally to a “little girl” need.
It was silly, actually, she thought, coolly impatient with herself. I’m a grown woman.
But still … wasn’t it much the same deep-seated need that troubled Zachary? The rejection and ridicule he’d received from his father, Townsend, through the years had left parts of his self-image tattered. And Rafe Easton? His forceful personality felt the need to defend his father and to protect what he had established at Hanalei.
She and Eden had discussed their similar needs just a week ago, and later Eden had written down two Bible verses and placed them inside Candace’s Bible.
Now, before going downstairs to a dinner she wished she didn’t need to attend, Candace returned to her vanity case and brought out the Bible that had belonged to her father, Douglas. She removed the folded piece of stationery. Yes, there they were, the two verses Eden had written, John 20:17 and 2 Corinthians 6:17–18.
“I ascend unto my Father, and your Father.”
She knew that Jesus spoke this to Mary Magdalene as she wept at the tomb. She was the first one to whom Christ showed Himself alive after His crucifixion—a woman.
“And I will welcome you, and I will be a father to you, and you shall be sons and daughters to me, says the Lord Almighty.”
Although she knew the word sons in the Bible was often generic, she especially loved this verse because of its mention of “daughters.”
In a moment of rare emotion, she did what she had seen Eden do. She raised the verse to her lips and kissed it.
Candace stepped out of the Hunnewell guest bedroom into the quiet hallway. Something was all wrong about the notion of Keno sneaking around in the garden, she thought with disdain … to spy on her! She knew him too well to believe that. As Great-aunt Nora would say, “Such poppycock!” Candace wrinkled her brow as she came down the stairs. Keno was not the sort of man to be peeping into windows. If he’d wanted to confront Oliver, he would do it openly.
Her jaw set. He had wanted to confront her, but not trusting her own heart, she had kept away from him. He was so straightforward and humble he hadn’t even thought of that being the reason for her standoffishness. Perhaps that was best for him.
Keno may not have prominence in Hawaii, but he did have something more valuable than land or sugarcane—the same that Rafe Easton had so much of—character. Both men were dependable and morally strong, which had impressed her from the beginning, as it had Eden. He and Rafe Easton were so much alike in that regard that they might have been twins. She supposed that was the main reason for their friendship. Rafe had taught Keno much of this when they were in their teens. Keno even had a similar physical appearance—dark hair, muscular build—
I will not think about Keno, she thought through gritted teeth, coming firmly down the steps. For his own good, I will not think of him.
Soon now, Grandfather Ainsworth would arrange a land purchase for him. Then one day Keno would forget her … at least to the degree that it didn’t h
urt so deeply to remember.
She lifted her head. He will meet a lovely girl—he deserves a lovely girl. Someone sweet and submissive who supports his life’s plans. Let him marry and have children.
“And Candace Rosalind Derrington? He will forget me faster if he believes I was unjust with him, that Oliver’s name and money mean more to me.”
She squared her shoulders. I’m being sacrificial, I know. Some will call me foolish. But that’s because they don’t really love. They want a man to meet all their needs, but—
Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends. Sacrificial good for the one loved.
And Oliver—her heart gave a thump. “Well, even if I don’t love him I can learn to like him. I’ll be able to respect him as the father of our children, at least. I must be able to do that. I’ll try to make him a loyal wife. Perhaps someday, yes someday, I can learn to love him. Not like Keno, of course, but there are different kinds and different stages of love.”
The house was a scenic one. She had always enjoyed coming here with Eden to visit Claudia. Claudia and Zachary were downstairs in the entry hall now. They were exchanging heated words, but keeping their voices low. Candace slowed her descent.
Zachary, a tall and fair young man, was always correctly dressed with manners to match when he wanted to impress, which presently he no longer wanted to do.
Claudia Hunnewell had ebony hair, and was rather plump, and spoiled. “Well if that’s how you feel about it,” her voice floated up, “I shall tell Father.”
“Now, Claudia, this isn’t the time to start a controversy. I’m going to San Francisco. My job with the Gazette demands travel.”
Candace coughed gently and came on down the steps, pausing on the bottom stair, hand on the newel post.
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