Kitty: Bride of Hawaii (American Mail-Order Bride 50) (4 page)

She couldn’t marry another. Not when something this powerful was between them. But there was still time before they reached Hawaii. She’d realize her mistake. He refused to think of the future otherwise.

He’d never found Kitty’s equal, and he never would again.

K
itty breathed
prayers of gratitude when she saw land. Avoiding Warren the last five days on board the
Castle Crown
was torture.

What other choice did she have? When she was around him, when she looked at him, all she could do was remember how right it felt to be in his arms, to be held against him. She’d melted into him against the wheel, and nothing had ever felt more right in her life.

But there was no future with him. Not only was she engaged to another man, but she was illegitimate. A man as powerful as Warren Castle needed an equal in all things—in intelligence, passion… and class. She might fit him in so many ways, but the one way that would affect his future, his business, his place in society could never be changed.

The
Castle Crown
docked in a crowded port, and her senses reeled at her surroundings. Certain aspects of the harbor were familiar to her like any port—the crisp sea air, the fishy smell, the scurry of men as they secured vessels and cargo—but everything else was as foreign to her as the new land.

Even here in the industrial part of the island, dense foliage grew, threatening to overtake man-made improvements if left to their own devices. The air did indeed smell like the sea, but it was also thick, pungent with a heavy scent that tickled her nose.

The air was thicker and wetter than anything she’d experienced on her travels thus far. With discomfort pooling beneath her corset, she wondered how women tolerated such heavy garments.

“Miss?”

Kitty turned from her view on deck toward one of the sailors. “Yes, Mr…”

“Pratt, ma’am. Harold Pratt.”

“Of course.” She smiled as he twisted his cap in his hand. “What can I do for you?”

He placed the mangled hat on his head. “I’ve been asked to take you directly to the plantation and to Mr. Banner.”

A smile curved her lips even though she didn’t feel excitement over meeting her future husband. Her gaze drifted over the deck. How could she when…

She snapped her eyes back to Mr. Pratt, scolding herself for letting down her guard and searching for Warren. “Thank you. I’ll gather my luggage and be ready momentarily.”

“No need, miss. Your luggage will be transported to you when the rest of the cargo is unloaded. Mr. Castle said so himself.”

“I see.” Darn the man for being so considerate. How would she ever forget him when he did little things like that to make her life easier, more comfortable? “Will Mr. Castle be joining us?”

His feet shuffled, and he looked anywhere but her. “No. He’s needed elsewhere on the plantation at the moment and will find another way back.”

Kitty’s heart sank. He was avoiding her. She shouldn’t be surprised. She’d rejected him and had done everything in her power to stay away from him.

Is there any way I could persuade you not to marry him…

He’d made himself vulnerable. Showed her a glimmer of his desire, his heart. And she’d rejected it. No. She didn’t blame him at all for avoiding her as thoroughly as she had him.

She gulped, raising her chin. “I’m ready to go whenever you are, Mr. Pratt. Please lead the way.”

He nodded once. “Follow me, then. We’ll deliver you to Mr. Banner in no time.”

The pony and trap he bustled her onto was small, but convenient. The days of riding in carriages were over for her, so she decided to enjoy the luxury. Besides, the lack of cover afforded an unobstructed view of her new home, which thrilled her.

They ambled down a bustling road from the docks that led to a loud city center. She awed at the differences between here and the States.

Architecture was different—the sounds, the smells, the people. The clothes.

Although plenty of proper gowns popped in and out of shops—their wearers no doubt American—the type of dress worn by the native Hawaiian women intrigued her. Long colorful lengths in a variety of fabrics draped loosely around their forms, nipped and tucked in a way that pleased the eye—and the weather, no doubt. Their ensembles were much more suited to the atmosphere. But what appealed most were the flowers they wore, wreathed in their hair and around their necks.

“What are those women wearing?” Kitty couldn’t hold in the question.

Mr. Pratt glanced at the women before answering, “It’s called a holoku. Traditional Hawaiian dress.”

Kitty longed to wear such clothes but didn’t say as much. Would it be appropriate for her to wear such a garment?

She sighed. There was so much to learn about her new home. Suitable clothing was only one of many topics she realized she’d need to learn about. Mr. Banner would know the answers. She hoped. If not, there had to be other women who could answer her questions.

“How far is the plantation?” Kitty asked after exiting the other side of Main Street.

“About twenty more minutes. We’ll cross onto Castle lands much sooner than that, but it takes a while to get past the cane fields. I could point out a few things for you, if you’d like. Although, I’m sure Mr. Banner will take you on a tour of the property once you’ve settled.”

“I’d appreciate it.”

Hearing her future husband’s name only dampened her spirits. She wished she could go back to how she felt before she boarded the
Castle Crown
. She hadn’t been exhilarated with the idea of marrying a stranger, but she’d been optimistic. In a sense, the man’s proposal had saved her from a difficult situation, and she’d been hopeful they could have a comfortable marriage.

A safe marriage.

Now it all paled compared to what she’d found in Warren’s arms.

The scenery lost a little of its appeal. Why couldn’t she stop thinking of him? Would the image of him plague her for the rest of her life? Would she regret turning down what he’d offered?

Mr. Pratt mentioned the Castle plantation boundary once they crossed it. Pointing out the sugar cane, he prattled on about harvesting and refining methods.

“Do you have your own refinery here?”

He nodded proudly. “Mr. Castle finished constructing it a year ago. His father, who started the plantation, focused on the cane’s growth more than the business aspect of production, but when his son took over after he passed, most processes that were once outsourced have been brought in and handled by Castle employees. Castle now has workers on staff for harvesting the stalks and are put to work elsewhere throughout the year. The refining process is mostly done on site, but some is still shipped out, as we have too much crop for one refinery to handle. We even have a fleet of ships to take our product to market. Whatever needs to happen between planting the sugar cane and getting it to customers is all handled by Castle & Snow Industries.”

“Snow?” She’d heard the other name mentioned but didn’t know much about who it was.

Mr. Pratt leaned back into the bucket chair, his hands pulling the reins for the animals to turn right onto a graveled drive. “Mr. Snow was the late Mr. Castle’s partner. He owns a plantation himself, and Mr. Castle Senior joined with him so they’d work together for profit instead of undercutting the other. Once Mr. Castle died, the current Mr. Castle stepped in and is now partners with Mr. Snow.”

“I see.” She saw that life around the plantation revolved around Warren and all he did. How could it not? This was his property, his business.

“Around this bend, you’ll have a view of Castle House, the main house where the Castle family lives.”

Kitty gulped. Better to see where Warren lived now with Mr. Pratt when he wasn’t paying much attention to her reactions than with her fiancé, who’d surely resent any feelings she harbored for the landlord.

The drive into the plantation was well maintained—no divots or blemishes from what she could tell. The carriage smoothly crunched over the tiny stones. The plants flanking the drive were thick, letting little sunlight through fat, glossy leaves, but were orderly and appealing.

Sunlight speared across the drive as they rounded the bend.

Her breath caught in her throat at the first sight of Castle House. The high sun glinted off the towering white, two-storied structure. Large wraparound porches on both the first and second floors beckoned guests to sit, rest, and drink a large glass of tea. The Doric columns spoke of grandeur and wealth as much as the vastness of the house.

And that’s where Warren lived.

It was a home fit for her father when he was alive. He would’ve felt comfortable here.

Sweat misted her skin. How could she even think of Warren, dream of being with him for a moment when this was the life he lived? If he knew of her illegitimacy, he’d turn away from her. She’d known that on the ship, but couldn’t bear to tell him.

For the first time in her life, she’d been wanted because of who she was. What she’d accomplished. Not judged because of who her father was, because her parents weren’t married.

They’d traveled farther down the path when he pointed to a large, two-story wooden structure. “That building over there is where the men sleep. You’ll want to keep your distance. None of them would hurt you, but they tend to get a little rowdy when they’ve had too much to drink.”

“Thank you for the warning.” She appreciated it, but she’d learned such things during her time alone.

He pulled into a circular path, six houses flanking the drive. “These houses are for the foreman and higher-up operators on the plantation.” He pointed out the middle house on the left. “That house is Mr. Banner’s. And soon to be yours.” He smiled a large toothy grin as he pulled the cart to a halt.

He vaulted to the ground, rounding the vehicle to assist her down.

The home was modest, but pleasant and clean. She’d enjoy living here very much. It far surpassed anywhere she’d stayed since being on the run. “It’s wonderful.”

“Mr. Banner would’ve heard about the
Castle Crown
’s arrival by now. Let’s head in and see if we can find him.”

“All right,” she said, her smile freezing on her face. This was it. She was about to meet the man who’d be her husband, the man she’d bind herself to for the rest of her life. She should feel excited, happy even. But lead pooled in her stomach as thoughts trailed toward Warren and their time on the ship.

“Hello?” Mr. Pratt called out after entering her fiancé’s house. “Mr. Banner? Kalea, are you here?”

Kitty hovered outside the door. “Kalea?”

“Mr. Banner’s housekeeper and cook. She’s usually here during the day.”

Kitty’s brow raised. Housekeeper and cook? Mr. Banner lived a much more comfortable life than she’d imagined. While thoughts of cooking and cleaning didn’t intimidate her—she knew how to work hard, after all—they didn’t appeal. Having someone around to help was definitely a boon.

“Mr. Pratt.” A large woman, her form encased in a holoku made out of a startling calico fabric, dried a dish with a cloth and peeked through a doorway from the entry. “I’m happy you arrived home safely. There was a large storm a few days back, and we worried.”

He doffed his cap, holding it in his hands. “It was touch and go, but the
Castle Crown
and most of its crew made it through just fine.”

“Well, good.” She nodded, but her lip quivered before she turned away.

“Could you tell us where Mr. Banner is? This is Miss Kitty Jones, his fiancée.”

Sad brown eyes met hers, and Kitty’s stomach clenched. Something very bad had happened.

“Mr. Banner’s fiancée?” Tears escaped down the robust woman’s cheeks.

Mr. Pratt shifted, uncomfortable with the woman’s tears. “Yes. Can I do something for you, Kalea?”

They waited while Kalea regained her composure. “No. I’m sorry for carrying on. I assume you haven’t heard.”

“Heard what?” Kitty asked, unable to bear the suspense a moment longer. She’d had more bad news in her life than she could tolerate, and it was easier to hear it swiftly.

“About Mr. Banner.” Kalea looked between the two of them. “He was in an accident in the field. He passed away yesterday.”

No.
Ice flowed through her veins. “Mr. Banner died?”

Kalea nodded slowly, sympathy streaming from her eyes. “I’m sorry, miss.”

While Mr. Pratt demanded details of Mr. Banner’s demise, Kitty reeled. If Mr. Banner died, she couldn’t marry him. Wouldn’t have his protection.

And then it hit her. She was in a foreign land with no money, no friends, no husband.

No job.

She had nowhere to live and nowhere to go. She was stranded here, in an even worse position than she’d been back East.

There had to be some way to support herself. But even as she thought of the menial labor she’d have to do to survive, her heart ached for the chance to use her education, to take a position she’d trained for.

But that wasn’t possible now. Who would hire her without references? Without a recommendation? No decent family would even meet with her.

She didn’t have a place to sleep tonight.

Perhaps Warren would be kind enough to let her sleep in Mr. Banner’s home for a few days until other arrangements could be made.

Her heart stilled. She might not have the connections she needed to obtain a respectable job, but Warren did. Perhaps if she asked, he might help place her.

She weighed her options, hating to ask him for anything after the way they’d parted after the storm. But what other choice did she have? She was desperate.

If she had to grovel, she would. Warren wouldn’t turn away a woman in need.

Would he?

W
arren stormed into his house
, hoping no one spoke to him. He had never abused his servants as others of his class did, never raised his voice. The people working for him were the lifeblood of his business. Nothing would function without them. They deserved every ounce of his respect.

Oh, but he was itching for a good fight. It’d be a way to release pent-up frustration.

She’d rejected him. And five days later, it still stung.

He slammed his study door closed and reached for the liquor cabinet. His hand shook, grasping a bottle of whiskey as he poured.

He’d put himself on the line.

What had he expected anyway?

All attempts to forget her on the ship were for naught. At least he hadn’t crawled to her cabin and begged.