Jade Star (Star Quartet 4)

Saint said before thinking, “No, marriage wasn’t for me. I . . .” He broke off suddenly, a flush rising on his cheeks.

Dwight patted his arm. “You’ll think differently—quite soon, I would imagine. My, my, look who is here.”

Thomas DuPres, dressed in his Sunday black suit, stood uncomfortably in the doorway, his hands nervously picking at the rim of his hat.

Saint, without another word, strode to his new brother-in-law and extended his hand. “Thank you for coming, Thomas,” he said.

Behind him he heard Jules’s soft voice. “Thomas!” He stepped aside and watched brother and sister embrace, Thomas awkwardly patting Jules’s back.

Saint said quietly, “After everyone has left, Thomas, why don’t you stay awhile? We can talk. As for you, my dear,” he continued to his new wife, “would you care for a glass of punch? I’m sure Thomas is also very thirsty.”

Before the evening was over, Saint was approached by two ships’ captains. Captain Richards of the Occidental said, “Wilkes has been a thorn in my side for years, Saint. David Gascony and I were talking. When we get to San Francisco, we’ve decided to look the bastard up and—”

“And what?” Saint asked, touched and amused by their concern. “There’s nothing any of us can do, unfortunately. If you and John made a fuss in San Francisco, my wife’s reputation would be seriously damaged, and she would be hurt even more than she has been here.”

“Damn,” said David Gascony. “I hate to think the bastard will simply get away with it!”

“At least,” Mark Richards said, stroking his full whiskers, “you didn’t let her bastard of a father get away with his rotten words, blast him.”

Dwight Baldwin said, humor lacing his deep voice, “I agree completely, Mark. Would you believe it? Etienne called me to his house to take care of his jaw. I tell you honestly, I was sorely tempted to finish the job. I covered the entire side of his face with iodine, Saint, and told him in all seriousness not to talk for at least three days.”

The men laughed. Jules looked up at the sound of Michael’s rumbling laughter, and blinked. She thought it was the first time he had truly laughed since she’d seen him again. It was a wonderful sound. He’s my husband, she thought. My husband.

“I’ll tell you something else, Saint,” Dwight said a little while later. “Etienne knew I was going to marry the two of you. He just looked at me, didn’t say a single word, and I swear to you, I think he was delighted. In fact, it occurred to me that he may have perhaps denounced his daughter to force your hand.”

“Then he is indeed a despicable creature,” Saint said, his lips thinning. “I tell you, Dwight, if heaven is populated with a congregation like him, I don’t think I want to get past Saint Peter.”

“One saint telling another saint to remove himself? Impossible, my dear

fellow!”

Dwight arranged with his friends the Markhams to lend a small house to the newlyweds. It was located near Makila Point, only a fifteen-minute carriage ride south of Lahaina. Saint didn’t want to be alone with Jules, but there was nothing he could do save accept the Markhams’ offer with good grace. He waited until Jules went upstairs with Mrs. Baldwin to pack her few things before speaking to Thomas. Dwight, a gentleman of great understanding, left them alone in the parlor.

“I hate him,” Thomas said without preamble. “I hadn’t realized how much until I saw how he treated Juliana. And John Bleecher—dammit, Saint, the fellow’s paltry, a coward! He and Sarah deserve each other!”

“I agree with everything you’ve said, Thomas,” Saint said, lowering his body into a comfortable chair. “The question is, what are you going to do?”

Thomas DuPres drew a deep breath and blurted out, “I want to go to San Francisco with you and Juliana.”

Saint saw the pleading and defiance in the young man’s eyes, and slowly nodded. “Yes, I think that would be a good idea. Unfortunately, Jules and I won’t be leaving until next Wednesday, aboard the Oregon. Where will you stay until then? I assume you know that your sister and I are expected to be alone.”

“I’ve already asked my friend Hopu. Hell, Saint, I’d sleep on the beach if I had to.”

“Have you thought about what you want to do when we reach California?” Saint held his breath, fearing he’d hear Thomas spout off about finding gold and becoming rich overnight. He was blessedly surprised when the younger man said, his voice rich with determination, “That’s easy. I want to be a doctor, like you.”

Saint said on a slow smile, “Excellent, Thomas,” He rose and firmly clasped his hand. “Will you say good-bye to your parents?”

“I don’t know,” Thomas said truthfully. “Perhaps by Wednesday I’ll be able to, but not now.”

“I know just what you mean. Indeed I do. Now, let’s drink a bit of Dwight’s excellent brandy.”

“Father has always hated Juliana,” Thomas said, swishing the amber liquid in his glass some moments later. “She’s so different, you know.”

“I’ve often wondered about that,” Saint said.

“I overheard him talking to my mother about Juliana some years ago—complaining, of course. I think it’s all because—and you won’t believe this—my mother’s mother was a French actress, and Juliana is the very image of her. Evidently my grandmother called my father a petty bourgeois, told my mother she was a stupid twit to marry such a pious prig. My father, of course, could just barely overcome his scruples to marry my mother. And he quickly removed her from all sinful influences.”

“I begin to understand,” Saint said. “Hair as red as sin and eyes just as wicked, is that it?”