As they pulled up to the towering structure, Kitty’s eyes took in the details. The thick stone steps, the hundreds of gleaming windowpanes, the lush flowers that seemed to grow wild around the property.
The house had always been a part of his life. He was grateful for it, but he’d never been more proud of it than in this moment. He dragged in heady island air as his chest puffed up, looking over all he possessed.
He rounded the wagon and lifted his arms to help her down.
His skin tingled when his hands grasped her tiny, corseted waist, the soft silk of her dress tantalizing him. She weighed nothing compared to the sacks of sugar he’d hauled in his youth.
Damn, it felt good to hold her again.
He wanted to keep his hands around her waist, needed to bring her body against his. But it wasn’t his right. He was nothing more than a friend to her. And with the cheerful sound of workers going about their business around them, this wasn’t the place.
He placed her on the ground softly and tactfully removed his hands.
Another blush crept to her cheeks, and a thrilled raced through his veins. As much as she might deny it, she couldn’t ignore her reaction to him any more than he could to her.
“What do you think?” Warren asked as they walked up the steps.
“It’s the finest house I’ve ever seen. Absolutely beautiful.”
“I’m glad you like it.” He wanted her to. Her approval mattered.
He escorted her up the steps and opened the front door, allowing them access inside. “Makano,” he nodded to his butler, “please inform Laka we’ll need a room readied for a guest this evening. Miss Jones will be staying with us.”
His butler bowed his head, before taking her hat and gloves.
“Please have refreshments brought into the parlor.”
“Very good, sir.”
When Makano left to see to Warren’s wishes, Kitty asked, “Laka?”
“My housekeeper. You’ll get used to Hawaiian names quickly.”
Divested of their outerwear, Warren led her into the formal sitting room. He’d never taken time to notice the expensive decor, the thick rugs on the floor, the curvy furniture imported from the continent. No fire lit the grate, but that was for practical reasons. It already sweltered outside. He wondered if it met with Kitty’s approval. “Have a seat.”
Sitting in a chair, Kitty smoothed her skirts.
Was she nervous? She had to be. With the future so uncertain, any woman would worry.
He knew what he wanted to ask, what he wanted her to agree to, but it was too early to push again. And although she was free from her promise to Banner, there were still things in her past she refused to share, things that prevented her from agreeing to marry him.
After a maid delivered a tea tray laden with fresh biscuits and sweets, he took a seat opposite her. “Before we discuss anything else, I want to offer the option of returning East.”
Her hand froze above the teapot. “I have no money.”
“I’d be willing to fund your trip. You came for a husband, and I’m partly responsible that you don’t have one. He was working in my fields when the accident happened.”
He did feel responsible. Every single thing that occurred on his property happened under his care. He reaped success from his worker’s input, but he also harbored the responsibility when things went wrong.
Her hand shook as she retracted it from the pot. “That’s generous, Mr. Castle. But I’d prefer to stay in Hawaii.”
Relief swept through him. He’d made the offer because it was the right thing to do, but had she taken him up on it, he would’ve worked to persuade her to stay. He didn’t plan on letting her get away, and her desire to stay in Hawaii made things a little easier.
“Will you not call me Warren?” he asked quietly. He wanted the easy companionship they’d shared while on the ship. If he could resurrect that, perhaps she’d be open to more between them. “Even if only in private?”
She gulped. “I’m not sure I’m comfortable with that.”
“I do not think of you as Miss Jones any longer.”
“You may call me Kitty, if you prefer.”
He leaned forward. “I do. And I prefer you call me Warren. We’re friends, aren’t we?”
She hesitated a moment, his breath freezing until she nodded. He wanted so much more than mere friendship, but it was a place to start.
Her hand returned to the pot, pouring two steaming cups, but she didn’t glance up to meet his eyes again. “Do you really think you can help me find a position?”
His hand smoothed over his chin as he leaned back into plush cushions. “Yes. I’m well acquainted with members of society here and should be able to find something quickly.” He waited until her eyes met his. “I would prefer to marry you, but as you mentioned on the ship, it isn’t possible.”
“It isn’t.”
His jaw clenched as unwilling frustration poured into him, but he asked calmly, “Why not? As a mail-order bride, you didn’t know Mr. Banner and therefore had no feelings for him. Yet you were willing to marry him. We’ve built a friendship over the past couple of weeks, and you can’t deny our connection. Ample reasons to marry, and yet you still refuse.”
She nodded once, unable to meet his eyes.
“And you still won’t tell me your reasons for rejecting my offer?”
She shook her head. “I can’t.”
He couldn’t decide which upset him more, the fact that she was willing to marry a perfect stranger but refused to marry him, someone she cared for, or that she wouldn’t tell him her reasons for rejecting him. He wished he could let it go—let her go. But as he watched her fidget with her skirt, he knew there’d never be another woman he wanted as much as her. “All right, then.”
There had to be something he could do—some way he could keep her close. Perhaps with time, she’d trust him enough to confide her past, and they could work through any issue she had. But what type of position would she accept? She wanted to use her education, but there wasn’t much need for a teacher or governess on the plantation. In fact, the only skills he needed at present were—
He froze. That could work.
Switching tactics, he leaned back, resting an ankle over his knee. “So, you’d like to acquire employment?”
Her eyes shifted warily toward him. “Yes.”
She wasn’t ready to accept marriage, but she might be willing to take on some of its duties. He kept his tone neutral. “You’re highly educated.” When she nodded, he continued, “A governess or teacher would be an excellent position for you, but might you consider another?”
Her teacup paused halfway to her lips. “What other type of employment do you have in mind?”
“A type of social secretary.”
“I don’t think—”
He held up his hand. “Please hear me out.”
She placed her teacup back on the saucer before setting both on the table, its steam curling up between them. “All right.”
“I’m in need of a social secretary of sorts—I’m not sure what the best name for the position is. With the new tariff recently in place, Castle & Snow Industries faces a new challenge. While Hawaiian sugar has dominated the market the last decades, that edge has been leveled. Mr. Snow mentioned we’ll need to court our clients in lavish style to control the market share as we have in the past. To do so, we’ll need to host parties, soirees, balls, et cetera.” He paused to sip his tea.
“It makes sense,” she agreed. “But what exactly would you need me for?”
“Isn’t it obvious? I have no wife. I’m inept at planning or hosting parties. While I’ve attended my fair share of events, my time is better spent on business endeavors where I’m most needed. Castle Sugar is a well-oiled machine, but someone still needs to oversee it, to make the large decisions.”
“I understand.”
She shredded a cookie in her lap, not realizing her nerves had made a mess. He hid his smile behind another
sip of tea. “I’d like to hire you to handle that aspect of my business. From what you’ve mentioned, your education has trained you to handle those duties well.”
The duties of a wife.
“Yes.” She cleared her throat. “I can handle planning and arranging all types of social affairs.” She quieted, no doubt mulling over his offer. She had to be tempted.
He went in for the strike. “Your salary is negotiable, of course. Would two thousand dollars a year be sufficient?”
She choked on the offer. He was aware it was well above anything she’d earn as a governess or teacher.
Before she could interrupt, he added, “Unfortunately, with guests arriving at odd times, I might need you close by to step in. I realize what an inconvenience that will be for you. To alleviate some of the difficulty, I’d also like to offer food and housing as a bonus of your employment.”
Her lips pressed together as she shook her head. “I can’t live with you.”
He’d like nothing better than to have her under his roof. It wasn’t as good as marriage, but it would be a start. However, if she was adamantly opposed, he wouldn’t press. “I understand. Perhaps you’d consider a different option?”
When she didn’t immediately argue, he continued, “While Mr. Banner’s bungalow will belong to the next foreman of the plantation, there is another vacant house not far from here. You could reside there as a bonus during your employment.”
Her brows lowered, still not sold on the idea.
“In fact,” he smiled, knowing she wouldn’t turn down the chance to help another, “this would also allow continued employment for another person as well. Kalea. With Mr. Banner’s death, she lost her position. She would be your housekeeper and cook, seeing to all of your household needs at my expense.”
Her shoulders relaxed, and relief swiftly cut through him as he sensed her agreement.
“It’s too much.”
“Absolutely not. What I’m asking will take up much of your time and energy. Plus, with the need to have you close by, it’s only right I pay for that convenience.”
If she wasn’t ready to confide her reasons for refusing to marry him, having her by his side, helping him with his home and business, was the next best thing.
His chest expanded. Caring for Kitty, even without the benefits of marriage, felt good. Right, even. The need to protect her had become paramount, and this arrangement allowed him to do so.
“If that’s true, I accept.” She flashed him a bright, overjoyed smile. “I accept your offer.”
“Excellent.” It took every ounce of discipline he had to remain in his chair, to not take her into his arms and kiss her. “We’ll discuss the particulars after you’ve had a chance to settle in.”
“Thank you.” For the first time, excitement and happiness filled her eyes.
And he’d put them there. As he left the room to speak with Makano, his palm rubbed his chest. He didn’t know what to label his feelings for Kitty, but he didn’t need to. The label didn’t matter.
Kitty would be his.
Chapter Eight
Kitty floated down the mansion’s steps, barely registering the helping hand assisting her into the wagon. How could so much change so quickly?
Under an hour ago, she’d been alone. Afraid. Unsure of what to do in a place where she had no friends or money. And now, here she was, on her way to her own household, an amazing job in her grasp, starting a new life.
A safe life.
She wanted to scream, laugh, dance, giggle. Anything to vent the pent-up emotion within her.
The wagon pulled up to a charming whitewashed structure much larger than her new home would be, and she wondered why they’d stopped. “Is there something we need from here?”
The man assigned to drive her tipped his hat. “This is the bungalow you’ve been given, miss.”
Kitty’s mouth fell open as her eyes darted to the large wraparound porch and fragrant pots overflowing with flowers. “This is for me?”
“This is the place Mr. Castle instructed I bring you.”
“But surely this is too much…”
The man grinned, charmed. It wasn’t for him to say one way or another, Kitty knew.
With his help, she climbed out of the buggy and staggered up the porch. The flowers’ perfume overwhelmed her, their heady scent muddling her brain further.
Opening the front door, she stepped into the darkened space. The front room alone was twice the size of the apartment she’d shared with her friends back in Massachusetts.
They wouldn’t believe what had happened to her since she’d last seen them.
The driver popped his head in. “If you’re all right here, I’ll go fetch Kalea. Mr. Castle wanted her here as soon as possible to see to the house’s needs.”
“That would be wonderful. Thank you.” She smiled her gratitude.
She was grateful Kalea would be with her, but she also felt a little guilty. The woman was in mourning for her old employer—the man Kitty was supposed to marry. She should be doing something to ease the housekeeper’s grief, not making her work. She’d have to think of something she could do for the woman.
Kitty stepped into her new home, pausing at the doorway in awe.
The house was furnished, not with the quality nor style she’d seen in Castle House, but pieces that were more comfortable. More suitable to her circumstances. She loved it.
She ran her hands over a rough wicker side table as she stepped inside before drawing back pretty yellow drapes, allowing more light into the room. Dust floated on a beam of light, slowly sinking to the surfaces below.
The place needed a bit of a scrub, but overall, it was in pristine condition.
She laughed finally. The sound bubbling up her throat until she wrapped her arms around her waist and twirled. She was free here. Free and safe. Two things she’d hadn’t experienced since her father died.
Exploring the house, she was in awe at the three bedrooms, large dining room, sitting room, and kitchen.
Heavens, what would she do with all the space?
Bustling around the house, Kitty lost track of time, soothed by the continuous call of wildlife outside her window.
Kalea had arrived a while ago, misty-eyed but insisting on working regardless of Kitty’s admonishment to take some time off, and she refused all help from Kitty in tidying up the house.
For the first time in recent history, Kitty didn’t have something pressing she needed to do. She didn’t have work to go to, didn’t have to prepare a meal. Leisure time, when not crammed on a ship, was as foreign to her as the new land she found herself in.
Kalea entered the sitting room with another woman, who trailed behind her. “Miss, Mr. Castle sent over Mrs. Dennard for your fittings.”
Kitty rose to greet the woman, but Kalea’s words stopped her progress. “My fittings?”
The thin woman, in a plain but stylish dress, nodded happily. “Mr. Castle has hired my services exclusively until you’ve been properly attired.”
“He hired you to make me a few dresses?”
“Oh no. Well, that is, yes. And so much more. I’ve been commissioned to make day dresses, ball gowns, undergarments, nightgowns, and anything else you’ll need.”
Color stained Kitty’s cheeks. Warren had sent her a dressmaker? Granted, in the last few months, she’d had to sell most of her prettier dresses to make ends meet, only leaving the hearty, serviceable gowns for work. Until this moment, she’d labored in a factory and looked like it.
The green dress she’d worn to meet Timothy had been the only remaining fashionable dress she’d saved. But still, the idea that Warren thought her shabby embarrassed her. Besides, what was Warren thinking? She couldn’t afford to have anything made. She couldn’t even afford a bolt of cloth if she wanted to. “I’m afraid your services won’t be needed at this time, Mrs. Dennard. I thank you for coming all this way though.”
The woman smiled as if expecting such a reply. “Mr. Castle though
t you might object. He instructed me to tell you that this was another aspect of your new job. The wardrobe would be fully furnished by him, of course, because he’s requiring it. To fulfill your duties, you’ll need proper attire.”
She was a fool. Of course she would. She’d be mingling with high society. How she looked, anything she wore, what she said and did, all reflected on Warren. She’d agreed to do this job, and she wouldn’t back out now just because her pride was miffed that she couldn’t properly attire herself. That would come soon enough. “I guess we should get started then.”
“Excellent.” The woman bustled into the room, unloading a seemingly endless bag of fashion books, measuring instruments, and fabric swatches.
Hours later, Kitty reeled from all they’d settled on. Even in her time at Highwood School, she’d never had clothes such as these. If she’d chosen a practical fabric, Mrs. Dennard swiftly talked her out of it.
Apparently, money was no object. Mrs. Dennard informed Kitty that Warren didn’t want any corners cut and insisted on paying top dollar for the highest quality. He’d even threatened to continue to send Mrs. Dennard out until Kitty made expensive choices.
How could she argue with that? The man was insane.
* * *
Refreshed after a peaceful night’s sleep, Kitty dressed in one of her old, plain blue day dresses, already wishing she had one of the new ones from Mrs. Dennard for her meeting with Warren.
While she’d always felt comfortable in her clothes, they suddenly didn’t feel good enough. The feeling left her vulnerable.
“Miss Jones, please come in.” The butler allowed her entrance, taking her hat and gloves. “Mr. Castle is waiting for you in his study.”
“Thank you, Makano.”
She followed the broad-shouldered older man to Warren’s office, her nose twitching at the masculine scent of cigar smoke mixed with polish.
“Miss Jones,” Warren rounded his desk to greet her at the door as Makano took his leave. “Please come in. Thank you for coming.”
Kitty: Bride of Hawaii (American Mail-Order Bride 50) Page 6
