Kitty_Bride of Hawaii

by Janelle Daniels

  A vacation was just what he needed to figure out the mess Charles had dumped in his lap.

  * * *

  Kitty’s body heaved over the side of the ship as the five-mast schooner sailed from San Francisco.

  Perhaps Hawaii was a mistake after all.

  She groaned, sliding down the wooden railing to the recently mopped deck, uncaring about the watermarks on her deep green skirts. Had she known she might die from sea-sickness before setting foot on Hawaiian soil, she would have picked another groom closer to home.

  Her stomach roiled before she scrambled back over the edge.

  A crewman chuckled as he walked by, but she didn’t have the energy to scold his bad manners. Truth be told, she was exhausted. But with puffy, white clouds dotting the sky, it wasn’t overly hot. A true blessing.

  Fortunately, Mr. Banner was working in San Francisco for a short time after sailing with a shipment when her letter arrived, and they’d been able to come to an understanding within a month’s time. However, he’d traveled back to Hawaii before she’d arrived, and now she was stuck sailing alone.

  She eased back to the deck, panting shallow breaths of briny air, feeling slightly better now that her stomach was empty. It continued to spasm, but there was nothing else coming up. She was grateful for small favors.

  Now that the threat of imminent death had passed, she was able to observe the workings of the Castle Crown, one of the many ships owned by Castle & Snow Industries used for transporting both their own crops and other precious commodities from the mainland.

  The crew carried on as if it were just a normal day. And now that she thought of it, it was a normal day for them. Her life may be in upheaval, but this is what they did for a living.

  She only wasted a moment on envy that they didn’t suffer the same sickness she did. She needed to pull herself together, get up, and get settled in her cabin. She might be a passenger aboard the Castle Crown, but she didn’t plan on being the pathetic carcass she’d be if her stomach continued to revolt.

  Oh no. Her body heaved again, and she cursed as more contents came up. How was there still something in her stomach?

  Heavens, would this be her lot the entire voyage? Would she be forced to make camp here for the duration of their journey?

  Groaning, she curled in a ball, praying for death.

  * * *

  Bleary-eyed, Warren scrubbed a hand over his face and pushed away from the nailed-down desk. He’d lost hours to his work. The sun was starting to set, darkening his surroundings until his eyes strained to read his documents.

  It would be close to meal time soon, and he was ravenous from missing lunch.

  A deckhand snapped to attention as Warren stepped on deck. “Can I get anything for you, Mr. Castle?”

  Fresh ocean air filled Warren’s lungs. “No. I planned to check on when dinner would be served.”

  “Five o’clock. The new cook is extremely prompt.”

  “Excellent. When did—” Warren lost his train of thought at the sound of retching. “What on earth?”

  The wiry deckhand glanced over his shoulder to a mass of skirts now huddled on the deck, the woman’s hands clenching the railing. “Don’t mind her, sir. She’s having a hard time adjusting to her sea legs. It should pass.”

  The woman trembled as another bout of illness overtook her. Warren couldn’t make out anything about her other than deep emerald fabric and graceful hands. “What is she doing on board my ship?” He had strict rules about transporting random passengers to and from Hawaii. No one other than those who worked for the company were allowed passage.

  The man swallowed his tongue at Warren’s dark look. He stuttered. “Well… well, Mr. Castle, she’s headed to see Mr. Banner, sir.”

  “And who, may I ask, is she? I know Mr. Banner doesn’t have any family.”

  “That there’s his bride.”

  “His bride?” He eyed the woman again. “Mr. Banner married?”

  “Not exactly. She’s his mail-order bride. He set up passage for her on the Castle Crown from San Francisco once she agreed to marry him.”

  “I see.” His shoulders loosened. “Thank you for explaining.”

  The man nodded vigorously, but Warren had already dismissed him from his mind now that he was fully focused on the woman emptying her stomach. He should turn away, head back to his room. He knew that. It would be easier to forget he ever saw her in such a state. No doubt she’d prefer that as well, but as she was Timothy Banner’s fiancée, he felt it his duty to check on her.

  “Miss?”

  The woman whimpered, curling in a ball.

  Warren knelt down beside her. “My name is Warren Castle. Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable?”

  She shifted, and fiery red curls tumbled from pins, cascading down around her shoulders. The sight took his breath away. He’d never seen such thick, beautiful hair in his life. It shimmered in the sun like an offering to the gods.

  When emerald eyes, the same hue as the dress she wore, met his, he reeled back. Desire hit him square in the chest, robbing him of breath.

  She whispered something, her eyes pleading into his.

  “Pardon?”

  He leaned closer to her as she whispered, “Just make it stop rocking.”

  “The ship?” he asked, amusement catching him by surprise.

  “Everything,” she moaned.

  He swallowed his laugh. He imagined she was so ill she didn’t care what she said, but her words struck a chord of humor. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  Her eyes returned to his, a small twinkle there. “Thank you.”

  “Is this your first time on a boat?” Perhaps a distraction would help ease some of her discomfort.

  She nodded before clenching her eyes tight. “Had I known this is what it’d be like, I would have stayed in San Francisco.”

  He settled next to her now that a little color flushed her cheeks. His conversation seemed to help. “Is that where you’re from?”

  “California? Oh, no. I’m from the East. Most formerly Massachusetts.”

  “Massachusetts? So far?” Why had Timothy chosen a bride from the East? Surely there were plenty of women in Hawaii or even San Francisco who would have jumped at the opportunity to marry him. “You must be exhausted from traveling.”

  She chuckled, but the sound was raspy, no doubt raw from retching. “You have no idea. Once we reach Hawaii, I am never traveling again.”

  He didn’t have the heart to tell her that it was common to travel between islands. “Are you feeling a little more stable? Could you stand?”

  “I think so.” She stretched her leg, testing the movement.

  “Allow me.” He stood first and offered his hand. He didn’t want her to lose her balance and take a fall.

  “Thank you.” She placed her chilled hand in his, and he was startled by the pleasure the contact gave him. He gripped slender hands, her long fingers delicate to his touch as he pulled her upright.

  She moaned, swaying from being on her feet again. He caught her by the shoulders before she fell. “Steady now.”

  She gripped his hands and refused to release him. But he had no intention of letting her go.

  She was smaller than he’d first thought. The top of her head barely reached his shoulders, and her body was so slender her waist looked unreal. Women and their fashions.

  “I’m all right now.” She slowly let go of his arms, and his grip loosened in degrees as he released her. She swayed, but caught herself before he intervened.

  “Thank you, Mr. Castle. I appreciate your assistance.”

  “It was no trouble, Miss…?” he asked easily, until those bewitching eyes met his again. Then he had trouble breathing.

  “Catherine Jones. Kitty. And still, it was appreciated. I’m not sure many men would relish touching a woman who’d cast up her crumpets repeatedly.”

  Awareness pumped through him, but he forced a smile. He didn’t want to startle her. “I’m s
ure everyone on this ship has had a bout of seasickness before. It’ll pass as you get used to it.” It was true in most cases, but he didn’t mention that occasionally a person never acclimated to a ship’s movements. It was better to remain positive at this point.

  Her brows narrowed slightly. “Wait. Warren Castle? As in the Castle Crown?”

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  She tucked hair behind her ear self-consciously. “Do you own the ship?”

  “Yes. I’m the Castle in Castle & Snow Industries.”

  “The sugar plantation?” she choked. “You own the plantation?”

  He grinned. “Along with many other things. Is that a problem?”

  “No.” She muttered something under her breath. “I’m just mortified.”

  “There’s no need. I’m just a man.”

  She eyed him slowly, her perusal sending hot waves through him.

  She shook her head softly. “Somehow I doubt that.”

  Chapter Three

  Kitty’s system rebelled against what was happening to her. Not the sickness. That was passing. It rejected the currents zinging through her body from Warren Castle’s touch. He was a dangerous man. Because for the first time in her life, she knew what true attraction was.

  And she was engaged to another.

  He smiled at her, but she couldn’t recall what he’d said. “I’m sorry. I think I should go lie down.”

  “Of course. I’ll escort you.” He tucked her hand into the crook his arm, not bothering to ask her permission.

  She didn’t mind though. As much as it unnerved her to touch him, she didn’t think she’d make it to her cabin without assistance. “Thank you. I don’t know how I’ll repay your kindness.”

  “There is no debt.”

  He said the words easily, but there was always a debt to be paid. She just didn’t know what it would be.

  At her door, he turned her to him. “Would you care to have dinner with me?”

  Her heart raced at the invitation.

  “I know our options are rather limited aboard the ship, but we could have some friendly conversation all the same.”

  Is that what he wanted? Friendly conversation? How could her body light up from his touch while he seemed unaffected?

  She took a deep, calming breath. She was engaged, but friendly conversation was permissible, especially when they were stuck aboard a ship anyway. “Sounds lovely.”

  His brown eyes searched hers before he smiled. “I’ll meet you back here in an hour.”

  She closed herself in her doll-sized cabin, pacing the sparse floor and panting against her corset. The muffled booted steps from the men above echoed in her room, reminding her she wasn’t alone.

  She knew what this was, what she felt for Warren. But it was wrong. Completely wrong. She’d given her word to marry another man. She had no right to desire him.

  But as she closed her eyes, she saw only Warren Castle. He was attractive, wealthy, and kind. Just the type of man who would have been suitable, if…

  Her hand fisted at her waist, cutting off that train of thought. She’d gone years without loathing her illegitimacy. She’d acclimated to her life, to her future. She didn’t begrudge her half-sibling the life she could have had if her father and mother had been married. It was the way of life. And truth be told, she was lucky her father had cared enough to take responsibility for her and place her in a good school. She’d be nowhere without her education.

  Yet in this moment, she resented her lot in life. She resented the fact that she wasn’t worthy of a man like Warren Castle. She could fulfill the duties of a wife to a man in such a position—the Highwood School for Young Ladies had taken care of that—but it was all impossible.

  She sunk to the pallet mattress bolted to the wall. What was she thinking? She might be stirred up about Warren, he’d been nothing but kind toward her, but she would not repay that kindness by mooning over him and lamenting her life. Both were silly.

  Buck up, Kitty.

  Her chin notched up as she marched to her washstand. She’d dine with him tonight. They would have a friendly conversation, and then she wouldn’t see him again beyond passing him on the deck. Their journey to Hawaii could take up to two weeks. Warren—Mr. Castle, she forced herself to think of him as—would be busy.

  And once they docked in Hawaii, she’d never see him again.

  She forced a smile to her face and ignored the sick churning in her stomach at the thought of never seeing him again. It was a silly attraction. Nothing more. She’d get over it, and she’d marry Mr. Banner.

  Fairy tales didn’t happen in real life.

  * * *

  When Warren wanted something in life, he went after it. No matter the cost. No matter the time consumption.

  For the first time in his memory, he wanted something, or in this case someone, and there wasn’t a thing he could do about it. Timothy Banner was a good man whom he’d known most of his life. Warren wouldn’t steal away the man’s bride.

  But the desire was there. Kitty was the most beautiful, enchanting woman he’d ever seen, and there was something about her that called to him.

  He knocked on her door, preparing himself for another onslaught of desire. When the door cracked open and she smiled at him, he realized he couldn’t brace himself enough against her.

  He forced a cheerful tone. “I heard the cook has prepared a hearty stew. Shall we?”

  She closed her door before slipping her arm in his. It felt so natural to escort her like this, like they’d done it many times in the past. “I hope it will agree with you.”

  She chuckled. “So do I. But I have high hopes. My stomach has settled for the most part, and if my pangs of hunger are any indication, my body will fight off sickness just to keep nourishment down.”

  “Then we’ll hope for the best.”

  He led her to his cabin where he had a table arranged with his personal china.

  Her hand slid away from his arm at the threshold. “This isn’t the dining room.”

  He coughed. “No. It’s my cabin. I know it’s unorthodox, but I thought we’d be able to talk more easily without the other men around. It’s perfectly respectable though,” he rushed to say once her eyes locked on to his bed. “The door will be open, and one of the men will be with us to see to our needs the whole time.”

  She blushed. “I didn’t mean to imply…”

  “Of course not,” he said, covering her embarrassment. “I imagine this seems rather odd for someone who’s never traveled by ship. I can assure you, though, that dining like this is common on merchant vessels. Isn’t that right, Robert?” He looked to the sailor who waited to assist them.

  “Ah, yes. Mr. Castle is correct.”

  “I see.” Her smile returned. “Forgive me, then. Apparently, I’m not cultured enough.”

  He belly-laughed. He doubted other women of his acquaintance would be willing to admit to such a thing. Her honesty refreshed him. “I don’t know if etiquette for dining on merchant ships is taught in finishing school, but regardless, I wouldn’t worry over it.”

  He led her over to the table, pulling out a chair. His lips tugged at the way she blushed. He couldn’t get enough of her.

  She placed her napkin in her lap. “It isn’t taught, by the way.”

  He’d just taken his seat. “What isn’t?”

  “Etiquette for dining on ships.”

  “Is that so?”

  She nodded, sipping at water from her thin-stemmed glass. “Yes. At least at my school I was never taught such things, and for a time I felt like they taught me everything I’d need to know for every circumstance.”

  He discreetly studied her dress. It wasn’t shabby by any means, but it wasn’t exactly the finest quality or style. Not that he cared about such things. She looked fresh, beautiful. But she didn’t seem to come from a background able to provide luxuries such as finishing school. If she had an affluent background, her choice to become a mail-order bride to hi
s foreman confused him even more.

  Although there were all types of schools, catering to both middle and upper-class patrons, he had a feeling she’d attended the latter. One way to find out. “And what things were you taught there? I’ll admit I’m intrigued by the hoops women have to jump through to become refined.”

  She chuckled. “More than you’d ever want to know. Dancing, flirtation, fashion. All the niceties for mixing in society along with more practical matters: meal planning, mathematics, literature, sewing, finance. Anything a woman might need to know to run a household.”

  “How to be an accomplished lady.”

  “Exactly. We’re instructed on both social and business dinners, parties, balls. Honestly, most of that part of my education felt silly because I knew I’d never use those skills.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because my husband won’t have a need for such skills.”

  “Your husband?”

  Conversation paused as Robert placed hearty bowls of stew in front of each of them, along with a platter of thick, crusty bread. “Can I get you anything else?”

  “Not right now, Robert. Thank you.”

  The first taste of stew hit him like a ravenous man. It was spiced to perfection, and the meat practically dissolved in his mouth. Whatever he was paying the cook, he was worth it and more.

  She sampled the stew, dabbing at her lips in a way that caught his attention. Full. Gorgeous. Enticing. His body clenched. What would she taste like?

  She cleared her throat. “I have no husband yet, but I am on my way to Hawaii to be married.”

  It took him a moment to tear his eyes away from her plump red mouth and refocus on what she’d said. “Yes, I’d heard that. Mr. Banner, if I’m not correct?”

  She nodded shakily, sampling more stew.

  “How do the two of you know each other?” he asked, already knowing the truth.

  She shifted in her chair. “We don’t exactly. Not well, anyway. I answered an advertisement for a mail-order bride. Mr. Banner was in San Francisco for a time and was able to come to an arrangement with me rather quickly. He’s the one who arranged travel on the Castle Crown.”