by Bodie Thoene
Koa shook his head. “Big present first. Clive, you may do the honors.”
How very English Koa’s English sounds, Kaiulani thought. I wonder if I will have a British accent one day.
From an inside jacket pocket Clive produced an envelope, which he delivered to Kaiulani with a flourish. “Theatre tickets,” he explained. “My father thinks of everything. May I have the privilege of being your escort for the evening, Princess?”
Hannah gestured at the snow falling heavier than ever. “Tonight?”
“Not to worry,” Clive reassured her. “The Gondoliers. Next door at the Savoy Theatre. For all of us.”
Annie poured Clive a cup of tea and drew another chair up next to Hannah’s, all the time chattering happily about how excited she was to see the new Gilbert and Sullivan production.
Standing next to Kaiulani, Koa murmured, “May I speak with you for a moment, privately?”
While Annie, Hannah, and Clive compared notes on reviews of the new operetta—how brilliant it was, how certain to run for months and months—Koa and Kaiulani withdrew to the opposite corner of the drawing room.
“I have had a…how shall I put this? A cryptic letter from our uncle, His Majesty.”
Kaiulani nodded slowly, her liquid brown eyes drinking in the worry imprinted on Koa’s features. “As have I,” she admitted. “I have not shared it with anyone—not even Hannah. I’m grateful to have you to talk to about it.”
Koa raised his eyebrows. “Does his note to you speak of ‘being on guard against unnamed enemies’?”
“Exactly the same. But what does he mean? If Papa Moi means Thurston and the reformers, why send a warning to us in England?”
“My question as well. I wrote him, asking him to clarify. How can we be on guard if we don’t know whom to guard against? Not that I am afraid for myself,” Koa asserted, “but you, Princess. You are—you stand nearer the throne than I. We must see that you are kept safe.”
Kaiulani felt the corners of her mouth crinkle. Koa was being so serious. “Surely you don’t think someone will storm the walls at Great Harrowden and carry me away captive?”
“No,” Koa admitted. “But the king—and you—may have enemies in England as well as at home. What if the reason he gave no names was for fear someone you trusted would find the letter and read it?”
Suddenly Kaiulani had a horrifying thought: “He cannot mean members of the British government?”
Koa replied, “Your guardian, Theo Davies, is well connected to the British government and commerce between England and home. He would have heard whispers.”
Her gaze shot across the room to Clive. “Theo Davies has been so kind to us. And you know Clive well. Like father, like son, I think. My father trusts Theo. You trust Clive.”
“Like a brother,” Koa concurred. “What’s more, Clive is deeply in love with you, Kaiulani.”
The princess was both shocked and pleased. She blinked at Koa. “Clive? In love with me?”
Koa laughed. “Wait! I wasn’t supposed to say that. Please don’t mention it—especially not to Hannah or Annie! Clive would be mortified.”
“So the Davies hope to continue to be the protectors of the future monarchy of Hawaii,” Kaiulani teased.
“Close protectors, perhaps.” Koa offered a rueful, lopsided grin that made his moustache appear comical. “I am certain Clive Davies would like to be even more than a protector to the future queen of Hawaii.” Then, resuming his older-brother-to-younger-sister attitude he suggested, “Just be careful, Kaiulani. Be guarded in whom you trust with your secret thoughts. Our uncle, the king, is concerned for our safety. Your father would want you to remember that, even here, the things of Hawaii Nei still touch us.”
Noticing how Clive devoured her with his eyes, Kaiulani admitted to herself what a pleasant warmth his attention sent through her. She reflected that young Clive had long been the subject of his father’s pride and conversation when Theo visited her father in Honolulu. Had the elder Davies had Kaiulani in mind as a possible match for Clive even then?
* * * *
Top hats and elegant evening dresses thronged through the entrance of the Savoy Theatre to attend the latest Gilbert and Sullivan operetta. The plush red lobby was crowded with members of London society shedding exotic fur wraps, top coats, and cashmere scarves at the coat check. Bottles of champagne and trays of caviar seemed to float above the theatregoers en route to the wealthy and privileged.
Swept along by the elegant current, Kaiulani and her friends climbed a flight of stairs to a corridor of doors that opened to private boxes. She clung tightly to Clive’s arm. Annie and Hannah each held Koa’s arm. The scent of bay rum and French perfumes filled the air like aroma of pikake blooms on a summer night at home.
Heads turned to stare openly as Kaiulani passed. Women whispered to one another from behind silk fans. Kaiulani heard her name as the crowds caught wind of her presence. “Princess Victoria Kaiulani.”
Hannah leaned forward and whispered, “Don’t look now. Our old friend Nanki-Poo is staring at you.”
Kaiulani raised her eyes to see Andrew Adams in the midst of the crush. He was gazing appreciatively at her. Bowing slightly, he gave an almost imperceptible nod of approval at her royal blue velvet evening gown. She looked away quickly, as if she had not seen him.
His voice, and the curious questions of his female companion, followed her. “Second in line to the throne of the Sandwich Islands…”
“A lovely creature.”
“That’s her cousin Koa. Attending school at Cambridge, I think.”
The woman’s words seemed loud and harsh. “Barbaric culture.”
Andrew, perhaps contrite after his last meeting with the princess, replied, “R. L. Stevenson writes that they are lovely, gentle folk. Christians, for the most part.”
The woman scoffed, “Don’t forget what they did to Captain Cook…and other victims.”
“A different island than Princess Kaiulani’s home.”
The woman said too loudly, “They say the king, her uncle, is addicted to drink, and the monarchy may fall due to his excesses.”
With effort, Kaiulani managed to avoid eye contact with Andrew. Color climbed to her face as others overheard Andrew’s conversation with his woman friend.
Beside Andrew a second male voice chimed in, “Pretty thing, this princess. Who’s with her? Is that Theo Davies’ son? Clive? You and Clive were both at Eton, weren’t you?”
“Eton. Yes,” Andrew answered, “Clive’s father is her guardian in Britain. He has an importing business in the South Seas.”
Overhearing the mention of his name, Clive searched the crowd for the source. Spotting Andrew, he smiled and waved, then leaned close to Kaiulani’s ear. “An old schoolmate of mine. Come on, then. He’s seen me. You’ll have to be introduced. He’s coming our way.”
“We know this fellow and—” Hannah started to protest but fell mute when Andrew stood before them.
Suddenly Kaiulani was face-to-face with Andrew. He was sober, at least. In the company of two other couples, Andrew allowed Clive to make introductions as though he had never met Kaiulani.
Clive seemed to know all the members of Andrew’s party. He took charge of the introductions: “Her Royal Highness, Princess Victoria Kaiulani of Hawaii. Her cousin Koa and…”
Kailuani heard little after that. She felt Andrew’s eyes fixed on her with some new appreciation.
Hannah spoke up indignantly. “We sailed from home on the same ship with Andrew.”
Andrew replied, “Indeed, we did. We shared reading material as well. Little Women. Purely American novel. Surprisingly engaging.”
Annie’s normally cheerful tone was cool and reserved. “Imagine. Mister Adams had never heard of the American novelist, Louisa May Alcott.”
Andrew managed a strained laugh. “It was quite good, actually.”
His companion lowered her chin with a mocking smile. “Who would think any good novels could come out of
America?”
Hannah’s eyes narrowed, and Kaiulani heard her mutter, “Americans are barbarians too, are they?”
Andrew addressed Kaiulani. “We meet again. I am not sure exactly how to address you. Princess? Ah, well. It is good to see you.”
Kaiulani replied regally, “Searching out new Gilbert and Sullivan roles to play, Andrew?”
Andrew ignored Kaiulani’s swipe and addressed Clive. “So you’re in town for the holidays?”
Clive observed the strained conversation between Andrew and Kaiulani. “I’ll be staying here at the Savoy with Koa for a few days, then escorting the ladies home to Sundown. Koa and I are showing the ladies London. And you?”
Andrew answered, “Staying with Father till mid-January, then back to bachelor’s quarters and school. Let’s try to catch up before you leave, shall we? Roast beef at Simpson’s? Tomorrow noon?”
“Agreed.” Clive clapped Andrew on the shoulder. “Good to see you, old man. And all the lovely ladies as well. Cheers.”
“Cheers.”
Kaiulani’s group took their places in the box opposite the vacant royal box reserved for members of Queen Victoria’s family. The royal crest adorning the perch left no question about the lineage of the intended occupants.
Kaiulani raised her tortoiseshell opera glasses to search the shadowed royal box for some face related to her namesake. “It’s empty.” Kaiulani was disappointed. She had hoped to see Queen Victoria.
Clive leaned close to Kaiulani and whispered, “I heard that Prince Albert may be here tonight.”
She acknowledged Clive’s comment with a nod, even as she scanned the audience for another familiar face. Where was Andrew?
Excited voices blended in an unintelligible roar punctuated by the laughter that rose and fell above the crowd.
Kaiulani laid down the glasses and studied the programme. When she looked up again, Andrew and his companions were seated in the box beside the royal enclosure. His gaze was fixed on her, as though he had been waiting for her to look at him, expecting her to stare. Leaning his arm against the parapet, Andrew smiled and saluted her. He mouthed the words, Aloha, Princess.
She gasped and lowered the binoculars.
The house lights dimmed and the opening song of The Gondoliers began. Clive reached for Kaiulani’s hand. She let him intertwine his fingers with hers.
Gingerly, she lifted the opera glasses once again and pretended to study the singers on the stage. Then she once more turned her view toward Andrew.
His face, clear and amused, came into focus. He smiled and winked at her, then with his open hand he tapped his heart, as if to say: I’m smitten with you.
Kaiulani fumbled and nearly dropped the glasses. The programme fluttered onto the floor. She vowed she would not look at him again.
“By a law of maiden’s making,
Accents of a heart that’s aching,
Even though that heart be breaking,
Should by maiden be unsaid:
Though they love with love exceeding,
They must seem to be unheeding—
Go ye then and do their pleading,
Roses white and roses red!” 13
* * * *
As the applause died and the houselights came up, Clive leaned toward Kaiulani. “Let the others go on without us. A minute please, Kaiulani.”
She lowered her eyes as their companions exited the box, laughing. “Clive, we’ll lose them in the crowd.”
He held tightly to her hand, compelling her to remain in her seat. “Not possible,” he returned. “Supper at Simpson’s. Just around the corner. Let them go. I have something I have to say.”
“Please. Not now.”
“When?” He studied her with intensity while Kaiulani sought to escape his scrutiny by letting her gaze rove over the emptying stalls.
“I don’t know. Clive?” In that instant she raised her eyes and glanced across the theatre. Andrew Adams cast a last look her way before he vanished in the shadows.
Clive followed her glance, sighed, and sat back sullenly. “How well do you know Andrew?”
“I told you. We made the crossing together.” The orchestra in the pit offered its final, crashing chord and received a smattering of applause from the handful of theatregoers who remained. “Why do you ask?”
Clive’s face clouded. Almost to himself he muttered, “Maybe too well. Or, not well enough. Clearly.”
“What do you mean?” She felt herself stiffen with resentment.
“I know him well. He’s a bounder, Andrew is.”
“I know enough. Arrogant and opinionated.”
The conductor addressed the concertmaster, giving notes about corrections to the score.
Clive inhaled deeply, suddenly relieved. “Good. Good. I was afraid you were—”
“What? Afraid I was what?”
“In love with him.”
“Why would you say such a thing?”
“The way you looked at him. And he had his eye on you most of the performance.” Clive still held her hand in both of his, like a brother counseling his younger sister.
“Why would you care if I was…interested?”
Members of the orchestra were chatting amongst themselves amid the clatter of instruments being disassembled and the scrape of chairs pushing back from music stands.
Clive lifted her chin and searched her face. His expression was gentler now, less forceful. “Because I care about you. I don’t want to see you hurt. You are dear to me. I think about you every day, you see.”
The theatre was mostly empty. Kaiulani pretended to watch the remaining musicians in the orchestra pit as they packed up their instruments. The timpanist called loudly for a pint at the Coalhole Pub, to which the double bass responded: “Two!”
“You needn’t worry about me, Clive.”
“As any brother would worry about his…sister.”
A swirl of tobacco smoke drifted into the box, having prowled up the stairs and through the crack under the door.
She smiled, grateful he had chosen such a platonic word to describe his feelings for her. “I’ve never had a big brother. Koa is the closest.”
As if on cue, the door to the box sprang open and Koa’s face peered into the compartment. “Hello! What are you two doing in here? They’re going to close down the theatre.” He gestured toward the vacant auditorium with the black cheroot in his hand. “Lock the doors, and we’ll be trapped. Come on! Come on!”
“We were just catching up.” Grateful for the interruption, Kaiulani stood and hurried out into the corridor. Locking arms with Hannah and Annie, she positioned herself securely between the two. Clive and Koa followed along to the restaurant.
* * * *
The Hawaiian party returned arm-in-arm from their night at the theatre. Their laughter and voices filled the hotel corridor with song.
“Oh, ’tis a glorious thing, I ween,
To be a regular Royal Queen!…
She’ll drive about in a carriage and pair,
With the King on her left-hand side,
And a milk-white horse,
As a matter of course,
Whenever she wants to ride!
With beautiful silver shoes to wear
Upon her dainty feet;
With endless stocks
Of beautiful frocks
And as much as she wants to eat!” 14
The evening came to a close with Clive and Koa sent off to their rooms. The three young women dressed for bed, then sat for hours before the glowing coal fire in the parlor of their suite.
A nearly empty box of candy was on Kaiulani’s lap. She popped a chocolate caramel into her mouth. “ ‘And as much as she wants to eat!’ ” she said and grinned.
Barefoot and clad in a long white cotton nightgown, Annie drew her legs up on the sofa. “Clive looked at no one but you, Kaiulani.”
Hannah leaned her cheek upon her hand and studied the assortment of sweets. “But you were looking somewhere else. Someo
ne else? Across the theatre.”
Kaiulani attempted to dodge the subject. “And Koa’s eyes were filled with you, Hannah.”
Hannah laughed. “Koa always looks at every pretty girl. I happened to be the female closest to him tonight.”
Annie said absently to Hannah, “Clive was holding Kaiulani’s hand. I wondered if she noticed.”
Kaiulani defended herself: “Clive is like a brother. Like Koa is. Brothers. That’s all. True love is—”