A Shadowed Groom For Christmas (Spinster Mail-Order Brides Book 6) Read online

  A Shadowed Groom for Christmas

  Spinster Mail-Order Brides #6

  Marisa Masterson

  Table of Contents

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Epilogue

  Leave a Review

  Author’s Note

  Coming Soon

  Available Now

  Sneak Peek

  About Marisa

  Dedication

  To Arti. I miss you my baby boy.

  Prologue

  Grand Rapids, Wisconsin, Early October 1886

  He kept his face turned away from them. As rude as he knew it was, he couldn’t face his family members. Not with the way he looked now.

  He rarely left his home any longer. Though still a young man, his life as good as ended with the accident that burned the right side of his face and much of his chest. That part of him could at least be hidden, but not his face. At least not easily.

  A voice pulled him back to the gathering of people around his dining room table. “Kit, don’t you feel well? If you’d rather not chew the rag tonight, your mother and I will understand.” His cousin looked at the only non-family members attending before continuing, “I’m sure Forrest will excuse you as well.”

  Always the protector. Wish he’d been there to protect me from the fire instead of off protecting someone else.

  Rather than seizing on the excuse to escape from his own dining room, Kit Randolph leaned back against the fanned back of the cherry wood captain’s chair and rested on the arms of the chair. His other dining room furniture had burned along with much of his belongings in the mysterious fire last fall.

  It was a wonder that he’d found his way out of the house, managing to escape out into the night, one side of his body literally ablaze. A neighbor who’d just left his own home to investigate the fire had tackled him to the ground and smothered the flame that clung to Kit with a quilt the neighbor had slung around his shoulders before going out into the cold autumn night. Still, the kind gesture had done nothing but doom Kit to a life of…

  “Kit, didn’t you hear me? Do you want to give us all the boot?” Phineas asked.

  Keeping his scars hidden by focusing on the wall beside his chair, Kit broke his silence. In a flat voice he answered, “No, I wanted you here tonight since I have news to share.” With the exception of Mrs. Forrest, everyone at the table was important in his life. Typically, he saw them individually, when one or the other called on him to check his recovery or just to visit. They were all family except for Robert Forrest and his wife.

  He often saw Forrest professionally since the man partnered with him in several businesses. As Kit refused to leave this new home to supervise their lumber business or the factory where they produced shingles and buckets, he’d urged Robert Forrest to bring him the books to keep current. His partner had refused, assuring Kit that he was managing fine and using the excuse that Kit was still recovering.

  Realizing his mind had wandered again, Kit gathered his courage and turned to face his guests, revealing his withered right cheek to them. Mrs. Forrest gasped and held a balled-up napkin to her lips. Kit’s mother sighed but didn’t look away. The most encouraging response came from his cousin, Phineas. He smiled at him approvingly.

  Always the protector and champion.

  Clearing his throat, he hissed in a quiet voice that hadn’t worked correctly since the fire, “I need a wife as a companion in this self-imposed exile.” Kit paused and looked around the table. His mother and Phineas both nodded and smiled, but Forrest and his wife wore smiles that seemed almost sinister, he noticed, before each faced Kit with grave concern manufactured on their faces.

  It’s almost like they’ve practiced their responses for tonight’s dinner.

  Questions erupted around the oval table. He held up his hand to forestall them. With determination edging his voice he explained, “I’ve sent away for a mail-order bride. My lawyer’s acquainted with someone in South Carolina who is quite talented at that.”

  From there Kit’s time with his guests quickly came to an end, probably because they sensed Kit’s desire for them to leave. At last, only Phineas remained. Already wearing his coat in anticipation of going, Phineas gripped Kit’s shoulders and looked into his cousin’s face, something he could do easily since they were the same height. In fact, they even had the same hair. As boys, they’d pretended to be brothers rather than cousins and that close bond still existed between them.

  His cousin looked directly into his face without cringing and smiled. “Proud you are trying to build a life for yourself, even if it is behind the doors of this house.”

  Kit looked into eyes the same shade of blue as his own and smiled. “You’re like a brother as well as a cousin. I appreciate your support in this.”

  Kit stared at him intently, trying to memorize him. He suddenly had the oddest feeling they would never meet again. Then all went black as pain seized his middle and he slid down the wall behind him.

  Chapter 1

  Charleston, South Carolina, October 1886

  Father is dead. What do I do now? This thought and the question it created repeatedly hammered its way through Kitty Donaldson’s mind. How would she maintain this modest home without being forced out into the world to find some means to support herself?

  Standing in front of the oak hall tree, she gazed into the almost full-length mirror built into that piece of furniture. She saw a trim form garbed in unbroken black, as she was once again wearing the mourning clothes purchased after her mother’s sudden death two years before. Lifting her arms, Kitty placed a broad-brimmed black hat on her sable brown hair. The hat’s large crown was trimmed with black silk roses and netting.

  As she pulled at the netting down over her face, Kitty stopped and intently studied her face—something she typically avoided doing. The rich ruby red of the port wine stain caused her stomach to clench. The mark stretched from the inside of her left eye down her nose and almost to her left ear. How could she force herself to spend day in and day out amongst others when she looked like this?

  With determination, she covered her face with the netting affixed to the hat and moved to the front door. With the Lord’s blessing, perhaps her father’s lawyer would have an idea of what Kitty should do.

  This thought started anew the mantra in her head. Father is dead. What do I do now?

  With her head held high and her carriage straight, Kitty began the ten-block walk to the lawyer’s office. Staring ahead of her, she studiously avoided making eye contact with anyone, neighbors included. Kitty knew what was said about her by them. She was considered unfriendly and odd. Still, she remembered the unkind remarks and taunts hurled at her during childhood by so many neighborhood children. Though she might forgive them, forgetting was something she’d yet to do.

  After five blocks, the heat of the brilliantly shining sun began to take its toll of her. Her skin inside the dark and heavy garments was slick with perspiration. Her mother had passed away during January so the mourning dress was made out of heavy wool rather than a linen material more appropriate for an unusually warm fall day.

  She longed to raise the netting and feel a hint of the cooling breeze against her face. Fear and her own self-loathing prevented her from doing so entirely. Resting for a moment on a bench placed in front o
f the dress shop, Kitty did, however, raise the edge of the netting and roll it so that her chin and mouth were exposed.

  Though she felt nervous being out amongst people, Kitty nonetheless relished the freedom to walk along the street. For the last year, her father’s deteriorating health had kept her confined with him in their home. Much of her life, her father had been distant and always occupied with his business. The last year had allowed the two of them to grow closer. She had needed to be with him constantly since his first debilitating fit of apoplexy. As the doctor had predicted, he eventually suffered another attack so severe that he passed on.

  That memory triggered her worry. Father is dead. What do I do now?

  Self-absorbed as she worried, Kitty almost walked past Mr. McKinley’s office. Composing her thoughts, she entered the front door of the building and ascended the steps to the man’s second-floor office.

  Seated behind her desk, the secretary’s blonde head was bent over her typewriter. After hitting a few more keys and then pressing the foot treadle to return the carriage to the next line, she raised her face and greeted Kitty with an impersonal smile. “Good afternoon. How may I assist you?”

  After explaining in a soft and low voice that she had an appointment with Mr. McKinley, Kitty took the seat indicated for her. The woman rose and lightly tapped on the inner-office door. Kitty assumed Mr. McKinley invited her in since the woman opened it.

  Only a moment passed before Mr. McKinley, himself, came out and, greeting her, invited her into the inner office. Once seated before his desk, Kitty waited expectantly for him to read her father’s will.

  Though the lawyer had seated himself, he made no move to pick up the will. Instead, he fixed her with a speculative gaze before asking, “What do you plan to do now that your father has passed?”

  Quietly clearing her throat, Kitty forced herself to speak loudly enough to be heard. “I’d rather hoped you might have an idea about that.”

  The man nodded. “Yes, I do have a few suggestions. Whether you act on them is up to you.” He paused and Kitty wondered why. Then he shocked her with his suggestions.

  “You’ll need to sell the house. It’s left to you in your father’s will. As was the business.” At this he shook his head, “But of course that’s already gone.”

  This surprised her as much as his advice to sell her home. “Gone? I was sure Father’s partner was still running it.”

  Giving a tsk-tsk the lawyer explained, “Your father had to sell his share to his partner under their contract when he was unable to carry his share of the load to run it. The money from the sale is what sustained you for the last year. With the cost of his burial, the sum is nearly exhausted.”

  After another pause, Mr. McKinley asked, “How old are you, Miss Donaldson?”

  When Kitty gasped at his question, he immediately apologized. “Forgive my impertinence, but I have a reason for asking.”

  Uncomfortable with the question, Kitty frostily answered him. “I will be twenty-eight next month.” Then she waited for him to explain the reason for his odd question.

  “You are still of an age to marry and have a family. I encourage you to do so quickly.”

  Stunned at his idea, Kitty felt her mouth hang open. Jutting forward her chin, she challenged his suggestion, “Do you honestly believe it is such a simple thing to accomplish, sir? And just consider my deformity.”

  He hurriedly explained, “My sister arranges such things for couples. She arranges for them to correspond before the woman travels to meet her groom.” Mr. McKinley nervously pulled at his right ear. “Such things have become so much more common since the war between the states. Widows left behind, you know, and fewer marriageable men. Though you aren’t a widow, you could benefit too.”

  Here he paused as gazed at her as if trying to see past the netting that covered her face. “Perhaps you’d raise your veil.” He left the half-question hanging in the air. Kitty raised a trembling hand and lifted the netting, waiting for a gasp or other reaction from him since the man had never seen her without the covering.

  Tipping his head to the side, the lawyer put his hand to his chin and studied her. After a long moment, he sighed. “I don’t think it is an impossibility that you will find a husband, regardless of the mark. You have a lovely face and should see my sister.”

  Picking up an envelope, he handed it across the desk to her. “Her address and business flyer are in this. Now if you will sign the papers, I will begin the probate of the house. That will give you a month to consider what I’ve advised in regards to selling.”

  Over the next few days, Kitty pondered the lawyer’s advice. As she cleaned drawers and the armoire in her father’s bedroom, she became all that much more aware of her situation. Both of her parents were dead. She had no siblings and no relatives in the United States as both of her parents immigrated as adults to this country.

  The quiet of the house pressed in on her. She had no one to chat with and nothing but the chiming of the parlor clock to break the oppressive silence.

  Maybe I should get another dog? Even while she thought that she cringed. When she was seven, her mother had brought home a small Spitz to keep Kitty company. She’d adored the little dog she named Tipper. But it too had died, soon after Kitty’s mother. She wasn’t sure she could bear giving her love to another creature only to have it die.

  As she walked through her lifeless home, Kitty’s eyes were drawn to her small desk set in a corner of the front room. The envelope Mr. McKinley had given her lay waiting there. Perhaps she did need to contact his sister.

  With that thought in mind, she took out a clean sheet of stationery and composed a letter to the woman asking for a day and time that would be convenient for the other woman so that Kitty might visit her. Steadying her hand to prevent it from betraying onto the paper how very nervous she was, she explained her reasons for seeking a mail-order marriage.

  Opening the envelope given her by the lawyer, the anxious girl stared at the contact information a moment before addressing the envelope. Then it was quickly stamped and mailed. She’d decided about her future. For the first time in her life, she’d made a decision about herself for herself.

  In less than a week, Kitty sat in Miss McKinley’s small parlor sipping tea while listening to the small bird-like woman chirp on about the matches she’d arranged. Kitty smiled and periodically nodded her head in response to the woman. Truthfully, the older woman was quite likable and it was a pleasure to visit with another person after the quiet of her house.

  What most impressed Kitty was Miss McKinley’s reaction to her face. Shortly after the matchmaker had welcomed her into her parlor, she had asked Kitty to raise her veil. With shaking hands, Kitty had hesitantly done so.

  Not even a hint of revulsion had been evident on the woman’s face. She only smiled and hummed softly. “You have lovely eyes, my dear. And such luxurious hair. You are a lucky girl,” she’d said admiringly.

  Kitty could only stare at her, mouth agape. How was this woman able to look past her birthmark? Then, she thanked her before ducking her head while drinking her tea.

  “I believe I have a most blessed arrangement for you. Just a moment and I’ll retrieve the letter for you to consider.” At that the woman winged her way out of the room only to return in mere moments.

  Whatever she sought must have been right at hand? A letter? The perfect groom for me? That seems impossible.

  Setting her teacup carefully and soundlessly on the piecrust table nearby, Kitty took the offered sheet of stationary. Immediately she noted the monogram on the thick cream paper—the letter K along with the image of a cat. Considering her name, no wonder Miss McKinley believed this might be the perfect match for me.

  That woman began an explanation so Kitty forced her attention away from the letter and back to her hostess. “Of course, there was another letter. An inquiry regarding my services and such. That one isn’t important to you.” Here her thin lips took on an almost teasing smile as sh
e leaned forward. “You only need to read this letter to know this is the match for you.”

  Since that was just what Kitty wanted to do, she nodded her head before bending it over the paper she held.

  My Dear Lady,

  As you are reading this, I feel sure that Miss McKinley has selected you as a potential wife for me. That being the case, let me be completely honest with you. I am a man confined to the shadows.

  By that, I mean that I have suffered an accident to my face which keeps me away from most people. In fact, I rarely see anyone other than my servants, my mother, and a close friend. With such a small circle of people around me, I hope you can imagine my loneliness.

  Because of that loneliness, I am trusting Miss McKinley to find a wife who is both understanding and content to live in the shadows with me. I need a wife who will not shy away from a touch by my scarred hands. Perhaps, might you be that wife?

  I assure you that I can provide a comfortable, if isolated, life for you and any family we may have. Beyond that, I will make no other promises and hope that will be enough for you to consider joining me at my home in Wisconsin.

  Most sincerely yours,

  Kit Randolph

  As intrigued as she had been by the letter, his name shocked her. Was the similarity in their first names merely coincidence or was this a heaven-ordained match as Miss McKinley hinted? Kitty didn’t think long over it before lifting her head to change her life by saying, “I will marry him.”

  The woman then told her something that reverberated inside Kitty’s head for a long time afterward. She had inclined her head to Kitty and with a grave voice said, “I think there are two verses you need to consider. They’re Psalm 34, verses 4 and 5. ‘I sought the Lord, and he heard me, and delivered me from all my fears. They looked unto him and were lightened: and their faces were not ashamed.’ Please consider those words.” The kind woman reached out and laid a palm on Kitty’s marked cheek. “Trust the Lord and don’t be ashamed of your face.”