Kitty: Bride of Hawaii (American Mail-Order Bride 50) (7 page)

A
s servants led
them farther into the lush foliage on the opposite end of Warren’s property, Kitty wondered how far they’d traverse for their lunch. Surely Warren didn’t intend to spend too long sampling the food. Did he?

Lifting her blue-green skirt to avoid a mud puddle, her mind raced. Why couldn’t things ever stay simple with him? They should’ve spoken no more than a few civil words when they crossed paths on the ship. She should’ve docked, met her fiancé, and been married that same day. She’d be settled comfortably with a man she had promised to be faithful to.

But none of that had happened.

Since the moment she’d set eyes on Warren, there’d been sparks. If only he was someone else. Someone less… well, less.

She closed her eyes in silent prayer. She needed to stop thinking like that. The whole situation was impossible. Why couldn’t he see that?

But as she opened her eyes, her gaze landed on his broad shoulders beneath a buff-colored jacket, his muscles bunching, shifting as they picked their way along the trail. She followed the movement, sweeping over the rest of his form in admiration before her cheeks pinkened and she looked away.

She’d never beheld a man as attractive.

What was she going to do? She’d avoided him over the last week with the pretense of settling in and planning this event. Although, truth be told, throwing together a party was little work for her. No, she’d kept her distance for her own self-preservation. Being around Warren bombarded her with too many feelings and desires. Distance was safer.

If only he’d cooperate.

The trail widened, revealing a small meadow. A pond glimmered off to the side, fed by a steady trickle of water over bubbling rocks, its source hidden by thick, glossy leaves.

“Is this all right?” he asked, watching her.

She could feel his gaze on her, probing, but she kept her eyes steady on the landscape. It was magical. Breathtaking. “It’s beautiful,” she finally said.

“I’m glad you like it,” he whispered before instructing the servants to set up.

“I doubt anyone you’ve brought here would disapprove.”

“You’re the only person I’ve ever shown it to.”

Forgetting to shield her thoughts, her eyes slid to his. “I am?”

He nodded, looking like he wanted to say more, but remained quiet.

The servants made quick work of setting up an impromptu picnic, the traditional petite sandwiches arranged in an appetizing fashion.

“Would you like us to stay and assist, Mr. Castle?” one of the footman asked.

“No, Robert. Thank you. Miss Jones and I will manage on our own. We’ll send someone back for it once we’ve finished.” He didn’t glance at her for an opinion. “However, I would appreciate it if you left your rifle.”

The servant nodded, handing over the gun slung over his shoulder before he and the rest of the group returned to the house.

Warren hadn’t asked what she preferred, and part of her was grateful—a traitorous part. She never would’ve suggested the servants’ departure. It was too dangerous. Too risky.

While a young marriageable miss’s reputation would be tarnished after spending time alone with a man without a chaperone, it was acceptable because he employed her. Funny how one tiny detail could change so much. Because she worked for him, they could be alone without a whisper of scandal attached.

When he remained silent, watching her, waiting, as if pausing for her reaction, she cleared her throat and asked, “Why the rifle?” It seemed the safest question at the moment. She couldn’t ask why he wanted to be alone with her, why they were all the way out here, or what he wanted from her. All of those questions led to discussions she wasn’t ready to have. Feelings she wasn’t ready to reveal.

He shifted the weapon higher on his shoulder. “We’re still on my property, but there are all sorts of things and people that can cause harm if we’re unprepared.”

“Are we in danger?” Her brows creased.

He shook his head softly, offering his arm. He waited, his eyes challenging until she accepted it. “We are safe, but it’s better to be prepared.”

He led her to a large blanket, helping her seat herself before taking a place next to her. She arranged her lace skirt with care, determined to hide her nerves under a guise of modesty.

He handed her a plate once she’d finished. “So, tell me what we have here.”

They eyed the mountain of sandwiches and sliced fruit. It wasn’t any different than what every other society garden party offered. She’d taken care to confer with the cook about what was expected. After all, she was from the East. Things could be vastly different here.

However, the standard variety of sandwiches, lemonade, and fruit were garden party staples. Warren had nothing to worry over. “I’ve taken care to choose a menu that’s common for such gatherings. I wanted our first event to fit in with the current fashions as much as possible. No risks, no standing out, just easing us in.”

“It all looks perfect. You’ve done well, Kitty.”

She blushed.
Drat.
What was it about Warren that brought on that reaction? She’d known she’d done well. It was all exactly as it needed to be, but hearing Warren’s praise flushed her with pleasure. “I’m glad you approve.”

Without her consent, he placed a small triangle of each sandwich on her plate and a serving of fruit on the side. Her mouth fell open at the gesture, but she snapped it close.

He’d served her.

Himself.

No one had ever taken the time to do something so thoughtful before. It seemed silly to think of it that way. A servant served her, and she thought nothing of it. Or even being served tea by another woman. But never had a man taken the time to select the choicest foods for her, arranging them on her plate.

It was intimate. And that closeness wove deep in her belly. “Thank you.”

He smiled before selecting his own food.

She bit into the chicken salad, her mouth watering a second before rich flavors exploded on her tongue. She closed her eyes, savoring the taste. Relaxed, she listened to the chatter of birds, the soft breeze through the trees, and the ever-present tinkle of water from the pond.

The air was as heady as the man in front of her. Warm, fresh, sweet from the tropical flowers surrounding them.

She’d never been in a place so peaceful. A place where she could be herself, where she could unwind and take it all in. The changes in her life, the paths she’d taken.

The last few months had stripped her down. Taken her from a place of comfort and ease to fear and poverty. Running from her brother, hiding from his trackers, had taken every ounce of peace from her life. For the first time since her father’s death, her body and mind were at ease.

When her eyes fluttered open, they locked on with Warren’s as he continued to caress her with his gaze. The desire, the raw, melting need for him she felt deep in her bones was echoed in his eyes.

With him here, only the two of them under the open sky, they were just two people again. Same as they’d been on the ship during the storm. Their places in society and their pasts didn’t matter.

His hand cupped her face, a thumb tracing her jaw.

She closed her eyes on a shiver, trying to rein in her emotions before they sunk her completely. “We can’t.”

His eyes bored into hers. “Why not? There’s no one stopping us.”

“I’ve told you—”

“Yes. It’s impossible. There are things I don’t know. We can’t be together.” His other hand moved to her opposite cheek, forcing her gaze to his. “Just let go for a minute. Let go and feel. I’m the same man from the ship. Just a man.”

She would have rejected him if he’d pushed, if he’d demanded. But he did none of that. He held off, his eyes beckoning, pleading with her. He needed this, needed her. She could see it in his eyes, the hunger, the anguish of wanting her. The same hunger that stirred in her own heart.

Her lips parted, and she nodded permission. She’d pay for it later. Heartbreak would settle in quick, but it was worth it. Having another piece of him, another taste, another moment in his arms would make it worth it.

Pleasure lit his eyes, but he only inched forward, taking his time, drawing out each and every shiver from her body as he neared—

A squeal pierced the air.

She jerked at the sound, disoriented as Warren snapped up, gun at the ready.

“Warren—”

“Quiet.”

His eyes weren’t full of passion anymore. The hazy look vanished, replaced by something cold, deadly.

The squeal sounded again, and Warren’s rifle barrel followed the rustle of leaves.

What was out there that caused such alarm?

She inched to her feet, standing close to his side. She didn’t speak and only panted breaths as she listened, waited.

“Get behind me.”

She didn’t argue. She moved solidly behind his back, her body pressing against his.

“What is it?” she whispered after a moment.

“A boar.”

Her brows furrowed. A pig? All this fuss over a pig? She may have grown up in the city, but she’d seen her fair share of barnyard animals, and pigs weren’t something to fear. They might get a little riled at meal time, but they weren’t dangerous. Surely Warren knew that. She stepped to the side. “But, Warren—”

A louder squeal filled the air as a several-hundred-pound boar charged from the brush. Wicked-length tusks protruded from its snout, aimed straight for her.

A scream locked in her throat. Riveted to the earth, she couldn’t move as shock and fear swept through her. No one could outrun such a creature.

The recoil from Warren’s rifle slammed into his shoulder, forcing her another step away.

Silence enveloped the area. No birds chirped; no bugs buzzed. Only the steady sound of water over rocks cut through silence.

“I-Is it dead?” she asked.

He nodded grimly. “Yes.”

She swallowed hard, unable to look away from the slaughtered animal. “What is that?”

“A boar.”

“I’ve seen pigs before. That’s not one.” The hairy creature’s tusk was over a foot long, as lethal as any knife.

“Feral hogs, or boars, roam the islands. They’ve lived in the wild for generations and are deadly. I’ve seen those tusks gore a man to death. They’re dangerous, and there’s no rhyme or reason for their attacks.”

She shivered, staring mutely at the carcass. If she’d been here alone, if he hadn’t had a gun…

He placed the weapon on the ground and gathered her into his arms. “We’re all right.” He rubbed his hands briskly up and down her arms.

“I didn’t know…”

“I know. It’s okay.” He shushed her, but she couldn’t seem to stop blabbering. She tried, but words tumbled from her lips.

Her heart sped as blood rushed through her veins, the sound drowning out all else. One or both of them could’ve died today. They could’ve
died
.

“We didn’t die. We’re both safe,” he said. She must have babbled the last bit.

She wanted to stop. Stop talking, stop shaking, stop thinking, but couldn’t. “What’s wrong with me?”

“You’re in shock.”

“Make it stop,” she whispered.

Before she could breathe, his lips crushed against hers, and all thoughts fled. There was only feeling then. Only need.

Only them.

She clung to him, feeling him against her, knowing he was whole, safe. Her hands clutched his coat as he devoured her, taking from her everything she wanted to give.

His tongue swept into her mouth, and she was there to meet him, testing, tasting, giving as much as he.

Desire swirled in her as forcefully as the storm that hit their ship, drowning her, taking her under.

But she didn’t care. She clung to him, to what he made her feel, to this moment, as hard as she’d clutched him against the ship’s wheel.

His arms wrapped tightly around her, crushing her into him. She only wished they could get closer. She wanted to crawl into him and never leave.

His hands clenched in her skirts, opening and closing as if tormented about what to do.

Finally, he wrenched away from her lips, tucking her head under his chin.

He shook but didn’t speak.

The world spun into focus again, shocking her. A part of her realized that the boar posed minor danger because Warren had been prepared. But it didn’t matter. Everything they’d been through, everything that had happened to them had ushered her to this point—to the moment where she could no longer deny the truth.

She loved him.

It had taken another near-death experience for her to finally admit it, but there it was. She loved him, desired him, wanted him more than she’d ever wanted another person in her life.

She trembled against him, wanting to stay where she was, but knowing she could never truly belong in his arms.

The injustice of it all filled her until she took a step back.

His hold tightened on her a second before letting go. His eyes met hers, the dark depths swirling with unspent passion. “Are you all right?” he asked, his breathing still harsh.

She nodded a little too hard. “I will be.”

He glanced grimly at the carcass. “Let’s head back to the house. I’ll send men to come and take care of this.”

She didn’t argue with him, only nodded her agreement as he wrapped his arm around her, guiding her toward the path.

She couldn’t have Warren, but for right now, in this moment, she wasn’t going to push him away. She’d take what she could, what her heart could handle. And when the time came to leave, which it undoubtedly would, she would take the memories with her. Even if it destroyed her.

Warren was in her heart forever.

“
A
s you can see
, Miss Jones, everything’s in order for tomorrow’s party.”

Kitty scanned over the selection of cold insides for sandwiches. They couldn’t actually stuff the sandwiches until right before guests arrived or else the food would get soggy. However, the staff had prepared as much as possible in advance.

“It’s wonderful. Everything looks well in hand.” Kitty smiled at Cook, an older Hawaiian woman with a laugh as full as her figure. “I couldn’t have done all this without you.”

The woman blushed. “I’m just glad you’re pleased, miss.”

“I’ll be sure to tell Mr. Castle what a fabulous job you’ve done. Although, once he sees the arrangements, he’ll know. Now, let’s go over the plan for tomorrow one more time.”

Cook’s chin nodded hard as she shifted back to business. “The sandwiches will be prepared starting at sunrise and left cooling. I recommend sorting them on trays as needed.”

“Agreed. I think it’s best if—”

“Well, aren’t we settling in comfortably?” Warren’s mother sauntered into the room. Sniffing in disapproval at the sandwich fillings before her. “I hope this isn’t what you’re planning to serve tomorrow.”

Kitty straightened her shoulders and calmly said, “It is.”

Brittle laughter floated in the air. “You’re in so far over your head it’s almost laughable. After tomorrow, if this is what you’re presenting, Warren will have no choice but to let you go. I don’t know why I was so worried.”

Doubt needled Kitty as she scanned the selections. Warren hadn’t disapproved of her choices. From everyone she’d talked to, this was a traditional choice. Petite sandwiches, freshly cut fruit, a selections of tarts, desserts, and lemonade. It was all as it should be.

Cook’s lips pursed. “Miss Jones has gone to great length—”

“No, no.” Kitty patted Cook’s hand on the counter. “There’s no need to rush to my defense. Mrs. Castle has a right to her opinion. However, Mr. Castle was pleased when he tested the menu for tomorrow. If there were problems, he would have told me of them then.”

Cold brown eyes narrowed. “You stupid girl. You have no idea what you’re up against here. You’ll be mingling with the cream of society. It won’t last. Whatever Warren’s fascination is with you, it will fade. Just as it has with all the other women he’s taken a fancy to. If I were you, I wouldn’t get too comfortable here. He’s been generous enough, providing a roof over your head, food, even a new wardrobe. Take what you have and leave before everything falls apart.”

What a spiteful old woman. Warren had his hands full. “Thank you for your advice, but I’m afraid I’m unable to follow it. I have a job to do here, and I’ll see it done. Now, is there anything else we can do for you? Cook and I have much more to discuss.”

Red mottled Mrs. Castle’s cheeks. “You’ll be sorry. Believe me. You might feel all high and mighty here, but you and I both know what you really are. So will others. They’ll shun you.”

The cantankerous woman spun around, marching out in a huff.

“Well, that was pleasant,” Kitty remarked. Rubbing her arms with her hands, she forced away a chill the woman’s words gave her.

“I’m worried.”

Kitty waved away Cook’s concern. “Don’t. She can’t do anything. She’s only venting her frustration. Nothing more.”

“Mrs. Castle is vicious. Please just keep an eye out for her. I’d hate for you to get hurt by her nastiness.”

“I will. Mrs. Castle can’t hurt me.”

Kitty believed that with all her heart. Warren’s mother might be difficult to get along with, but there wasn’t anything she could do to Kitty without hurting her own son.

No, Kitty wasn’t worried about a thing.

H
er nerves rattling
, Kitty made her way to Castle House and its kitchen early the next morning, her checklist in hand. There were a number of things to see to before the party, and Kitty planned on finishing each and every one.

Sobbing met her ears as she stepped in the kitchen.

“Cook?”

The older woman sobbed into her apron. “Oh, miss. It’s just as I said. It’s ruined.”

A lump settled in Kitty’s stomach, but she forced her voice to remain calm. “What’s ruined?”

“Everything.”

The kitchen staff stood alongside the room, agreeing with Cook’s assessment.

“Ruined? How can that be? Everything looks in order.”

Sniffling, Cook fetched a fresh spoon, scooping out a sample of chicken salad. “Taste this.”

Accepting the spoon, Kitty settled the mixture in her mouth. Her eyes widened as she spit out the salty concoction. “Good heavens! What happened to it?”

Cook’s eyes filled yet again. “It’s as I said. It’s ruined. All of it.”

Kitty’s eyes flitted over the other bowls of fillings. “All of them? How can that be? Was there an accident?”

“I check them myself last night. When we pulled them out this morning and tested them, they were either too salty, too sweet, or some other variation. There’s only one way that could have happened.”

Kitty’s fist clenched. Cook didn’t need to say anymore. It was obvious what had happened.

Sabotage.

And only one person hated her enough to go to this length. With only a few hours to spare, remaking the fillings was out of the question. They had no food to serve the guests.

“What will we do?”

Kitty paced the kitchen. “What about the fruit? The tarts?” She had to ask, although she feared the answer.

“Same as the fillings.”

Kitty swallowed hard. “I’ll be back in ten minutes. Remove the ruined food and keep everyone on hand.”

Cook’s chin wobbled, but she quickly sprang into action as Kitty walked out the door.

She didn’t know where she was headed, but she needed the outdoors, the fresh air. Besides her brother, never in her whole life had anyone done something so cruel to her.

Kitty had underestimated the woman. She’d assumed Mrs. Castle would never hurt her own son, but she had. What kind of mother would do that? She had to know how much his business, their livelihood, counted on these parties.

Could she honestly be so vindictive?

If one filling had been ruined, even two, Kitty could rationalize that away. But not every single one. Not every item they’d planned on serving to their guests.

What was to be done?

She plucked a blossom from a bush, shredding its petals as she continued down the path.

Guests would arrive within a few short hours. She’d wanted everything to be perfect, for Warren’s party to succeed. But that wasn’t possible now.

The party would go on, and they needed to have food to serve Warren’s guests.

An idea lit her mind. It might not be traditional, but it certainly wasn’t unheard of. They’d offer sandwiches, but in a different way. Smoked meats, a variety of cheeses and breads. They’d be served with an array of cold salads, lemonade, and fried chicken. It was filling, tasty, and could be ready in time.

As she rushed back toward the house, plans firmly in her mind, she hoped they’d be ready on time.

K
itty pinched
the fabric of her spotless white glove as she scrutinized the back lawn. “And the food and drinks are set up in the tent?” Kitty asked Cook for the tenth time.

The older, native Hawaiian woman belly-laughed. “Calm yourself. All is just as you asked. I didn’t think we’d make it in time, but you were right.”

Kitty smiled sheepishly. “Forgive me, Cook. Everything looks splendid. I’m just so nervous.”

“With good reason. However, everything looks perfect. No one will know about the last-minute changes.”

Kitty hoped not. But there were some people she wouldn’t be able to hide it from. She still had no clue what she would tell Warren. There wasn’t proof his mother sabotaged the food, but no one else had motive. Would he believe her? Would he care?

Of course he would. He knew his mother and her behavior. That’s why Kitty had a job.

And although it worked out in the end, the food was ready, looking as delectable as she’d hoped, but she was still nervous.

Warren had given her two weeks to settle in. If she failed today, the rest of Warren’s plans would as well. Everything had to be perfect. The food, the entertainment—the weather. She squinted at the puffy clouds dotting the sky.

Cook patted her on the back. “I’m going to the kitchens to make sure the rest is ready. You, don’t worry anymore.”

Kitty nodded as Cook left. Frozen on a small rise on the lawn, she looked over the idyllic event. Everything screamed of wealth, ease, luxury—without trying too hard. And that was key. Old society didn’t want garish displays of wealth. Nothing could be over the top, but it all had to be of the finest quality.

She was so nervous she wanted to vomit.

The time she’d spent as a girl, dreaming of being legitimate, of all the parties she’d go to, seemed like a waste now. Perhaps she wasn’t cut out for this. She’d embarrass Warren, ruin all of his plans.

Heavens.
She fisted a hand at her stomach.
Pull yourself together!

“This looks fantastic.”

Kitty jumped, slapping a palm against her chest. “Are you trying to kill me?”

Warren chuckled, and the sound warmed to her belly, pooling there like warm molasses.

“I didn’t realize I was so quiet. Forgive me.”

She rolled her eyes. They both knew she’d been too nervous to hear an elephant approach. “Are you sure it looks all right?”

“Everything looks wonderful.” His hand brushed against hers as they stood side by side, viewing all she’d accomplished.

Her heart leaped in her throat.

How could one touch, something so innocent as two hands meeting, unbalance her so? “Are you certain?”

A wry smile touched his lips. “Would you like me to find fault with something?”

“No. Of course not. I just wondered if you’d noticed the food.”

His eyes darted to the laden table. “Yes.”

“And?”

“And what?”

“You’re not upset?”

“Why would I be? It looks delicious. It’s a step away from the boring and traditional and will make us stand out. I’m pleased.”

She spluttered. “You’re not upset I changed it without consulting with you?”

“Kitty,” he whispered. “You have full control over planning. I trust your judgment in all things. I don’t need to manage every aspect of these events. You’re perfectly capable. What you choose to serve is fine by me.”

Her shoulders sagged. “I thought you’d be mad.”

“They were just sandwiches.” He scanned the crowd filtering into the green. “What made you change your mind?”

“Well…” How much should she tell him? She didn’t want to cause any problems, but his mother really had made a mess. Even though Kitty had managed to correct everything, it could’ve been disastrous. Mrs. Castle couldn’t be allowed to do such a thing again. “It wasn’t exactly my choice.”

His brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

She blew out a long breath, still hesitating.

His finger curled under her chin, forcing her eyes to his. “What wasn’t your choice?”

She swallowed hard against the steel in his eyes. “The menu change.”

“You didn’t plan the fried chicken?”

“No. It isn't that. I did plan that… but only after the sandwich fillings and everything else were destroyed.”

The muscle in his jaw ticked, but he kept his voice light. “Destroyed? By whom?”

She jerked her eyes away, unwilling to see his reaction to what she had to say. “I don’t know for sure who did it. I only have guesses.”

“Then who do you think would do such a thing?”

She twisted her hands together. “Your mother.”

He cursed, his eyes narrowing on the woman in question. “I’m sorry.” His eyes returned to hers. “What did she do?”

Kitty swallowed. “She confronted me yesterday afternoon in the kitchen with Cook. She didn’t threaten anything, exactly. But she made it clear she didn’t want me here and that everyone would be better off, including myself, if I left. The food was sabotaged sometime during the night.”

His jaw clenched again. “I imagine it’s been stressful for you. I’m even more impressed with what you’ve done here today.”

His words humbled her. “Thank you.”

“I’ll make sure nothing like this happens again.”

“But how—”

“I’ll handle her.”

Kitty swallowed another question. She didn’t think he’d answer, and now wasn’t the best time anyway. They’d spent far too much time removed from their guests.

“Shall we?” He offered her his arm.

She sucked in a deep breath.

“They won’t bite.”

She chuckled, accepting his escort, but didn’t agree. High society ladies did bite. They sensed blood quicker than bloodhounds and moved in for the kill with stunning accuracy. If they smelled a whiff of insecurity, they went for the throat.

The key was to hold strong, project confidence, and keep a serene expression. Before she knew it, the party would be over, and she’d have cleared the first hurdle.

She hoped it was as easy as that.