Page 10 of A Wager with the Matchmaker (A Shanahan Match #3)

10

The past few nights of visiting with Bellamy’s prospects had gone well. Kiernan had met with three possible brides, and each one had potential. Bellamy had assured him he had four more meetings lined up for next week.

Kiernan tugged off his cravat and tossed it on his bed. If everything was going splendidly, why did he feel so restless?

Unbuttoning his vest, he stepped to his open window and let the cool night breeze soothe him. After the recent rainy days, the heat and humidity had dissipated, replaced by cooler temperatures.

Even though his dinner with tonight’s prospect had taken him to the city, he’d decided to return to Oakland. It was more convenient for reaching the brickyard. And it was safer. Every day, they were getting reports of the increasing death toll in the city. While cholera was still more rampant in the immigrant communities than elsewhere, it was no respecter of a person’s neighborhood or family and would eventually reach everywhere in St. Louis.

Kiernan finished with his vest and shed it. As he started unbuttoning his shirt, his gaze snagged on a flicker of light in the field beyond the summer kitchen. He stopped short and peered more closely. The light was too big to belong to an insect. It had to be the flame from a lantern. Alannah’s lantern.

“Blast.” He scowled, frustration curdling inside his gut.

She hadn’t gone back outside at night since that time he’d caught her and warned her against it—at least that he’d been aware, and aye, he’d been looking. He’d assumed she’d heeded him. But maybe the reason she’d refrained was because of the wet weather. Now that it had finally stopped raining, had she decided to resume her nightly ventures?

He should have known she was too independent to rely upon him for advice. And she was too much like a wildflower to be confined inside. She seemed to thrive on the fresh air and the beauty of nature and the openness of the sky. Already in just a week of her living at Oakland, her skin had gained color, her hair was more golden, and her cheeks were rosier.

The move to the country had been good for her. If only he could convince his mam of the same.

He expelled a tight sigh. He could admit another reason he was coming back to Oakland every night was to make sure his mam didn’t fire Alannah after she’d witnessed them talking together by the back door earlier in the week.

Mam had expressed her concern about his forming an attachment to a maid, reminding him of their household rule not to dally with the hired staff.

“She’s a pretty young thing, so she is,” Mam said, as they sat stiffly together on the front veranda. “And naturally you might feel some attraction.”

Oh, he felt attraction to Alannah, and it was only getting stronger. However, he didn’t intend to do anything about those feelings ... except douse them, which he’d been trying to do, especially since his conversation with Torin. Kiernan still had a knife prick under his chin to remind him of Torin’s threats.

“You’ll be keeping your eyes and hands off that maid,” Mam continued in her usual blunt manner. “I won’t stand for you using her or any of the staff.”

“Don’t worry.” He’d been slightly embarrassed by the nature of the conversation, but he couldn’t fault Mam for bringing up the issue. “She’s like a little sister. That’s all.”

Maybe that wasn’t exactly all. But that’s what he was aiming for—treating her like a sibling.

His mam shook her head. “You’ll also not be putting notions into her head so she starts thinking of herself as more important than she really is.”

The comment needled him in all the wrong places. “Just because she’s a maid doesn’t mean she’s not important.”

“You know what I mean, Kiernan.”

Aye, he did know. If he made it clear to his mam that he would behave honorably, would she leave Alannah alone? “I have no intention of having a dalliance with a maid. Not now. Not ever. And as far as courting her, she’s not someone I would ever seriously consider.”

“Good, because the cook tells me she knows nothing about all the uses of silverware, doesn’t understand mealtime mannerisms, and doesn’t know the appropriate way to serve tea.”

He wanted to chastise his mam for her emphasis on such trivial things. But how could he when his list of wifely requirements had included things like having a well-bred wife, one from high society who was poised and could manage a large house?

The conversation hadn’t gone much differently for the rest of the five minutes or so that they’d talked. He’d finally ended it by telling Mam to treat Alannah fairly and to leave her alone.

Unease had nagged him ever since. He sensed that Mam had made up her mind to dislike Alannah from the day he’d first brought her to Oakland. Lucinda Shanahan was stubborn and determined and wouldn’t be swayed. But he was equally as stubborn and determined, and he didn’t intend to be swayed either.

Alannah was staying, and that was all there was to it.

And since she seemed bound to read alone in the moonlight, he would have to make sure she stayed safe.

Without bothering to don his vest or coat, he headed outside, going as quietly as he could so no one—especially Mam—would hear him sneaking around. A part of him resented that he had to sneak at all. But he didn’t want to get Alannah into trouble. And it would certainly be best for her reputation if no one knew of his presence there with her.

As he passed by the flower beds, he breathed in the brisk air and felt the restlessness begin to fade. Once again, at his approach, she didn’t notice or hear him, was too engrossed in her book—the Jane Austen he’d given her. As before, she was lying on her stomach in her nightgown. But this time, she was wearing a cloak.

He paused at the edge of the blanket she’d spread out, folded his arms, and waited for her to glance up and see him.

After a moment of standing, frustration pooled low in side. The entire Farrell gang could have surrounded her, and she wouldn’t have heard them.

He exhaled a huff of exasperation.

At the sound, she released a soft squeak of surprise and slapped her book closed. Her gaze flew up to him, her eyes wide and guileless. Her face was soft in the lantern light, a warm tan, with pieces of hair framing her cheeks and the rest contained to a braid.

“You scared me.” She pushed herself up so that she was sitting.

“I told you not to come out here.”

She lifted her chin, and her eyes flashed with sudden defiance. “I tried to stay away, but I needed just a few minutes.”

He didn’t wait for an invitation to join her. He stepped onto the blanket and began to lower himself. “Since you refuse to listen to me, you leave me with no choice but to join you and watch over you.”

She reached for the lantern and her book, sliding them aside. Was she so easily making room for him and welcoming him to be here with her?

He took the spot beside her. As he stretched out his legs and then leaned back on his elbows, he glanced at her sideways.

She was watching him, her eyes still wide, her long lashes framing them and making them even more beautiful.

The words “You’re beautiful” pushed to the tip of his tongue. But he couldn’t say anything like that, had to treat her like a sibling, had to prove to Mam that he had no intention of having a dalliance with Alannah or anything else even close to it.

“How do you like Jane Austen?”

Alannah caressed the back cover of the book. “I love her. She’s my new favorite author.” A long daisy stuck out of the middle of the book where she’d closed it.

He couldn’t stop a strange pang of jealousy, that she didn’t like him as much as the book and that she was caressing the inanimate object rather than him. He swallowed the desire for her attention and touch and instead focused on the stars overhead. The rain clouds were gone, leaving a few wisps behind.

“Looks like you’re about halfway done.” He forced his tone to remain casual.

She released a soft laugh. “This is my second time reading it, so it is.”

“Really?”

“Really.” She lowered her head, an embarrassed smile playing over her lips.

“You’re a fast reader.”

“Oh aye.” She hesitated, then her smile widened. “I admit, I stayed up most of the night after you gave it to me.”

“You must have been tired the next day.”

“I was, but reading it was worth the loss of sleep.” She pulled her cloak around her tighter. “I promise I’ll return it to you when I finish this time.”

“I don’t want it back.”

“You don’t?”

When she turned her wide eyes upon him, he suddenly felt like he was drowning in their depths and couldn’t come up for a breath.

What was it about this woman that made him react this way?

He scrambled to find his breath and his sanity. He had to remain in control of himself and of the situation.

“I can’t keep it,” she persisted.

“It’s a gift, Alannah.” Somehow his words came out calmer than he felt.

“And I can’t be taking gifts from you either.” Her tone held a note of chastisement. “Your mother won’t be liking that—”

“Mam’s not making life miserable for you, is she?”

“No, she’s not said a word to me all week.”

“Good.”

“You know what they say: A storm is always brewing on the horizon.”

“You know what they also say: Sunshine always follows the rain.”

She laughed again lightly.

He liked listening to her laugh, liked seeing her smile, liked knowing he could make her happy with something as simple as a book. He’d have to get another for her.

She was quiet for a long moment, the gentle rustle of the breeze in the grass filling the lull.

He felt strangely content lying beside her.

She shot him a sideways glance. “Miss Douglas came by earlier this evening looking for you.”

The comment was like a bucket of cold well water dumping over him and waking him up to real life. He didn’t want the reminder of Shelia. He didn’t want to think about her or Liam or the upcoming engagement party.

Alannah seemed to be holding her breath.

He forced down a brusque retort. He couldn’t take out his frustration on her.

“I’m sorry for bringing it up, so I am.” She spoke hesitantly. “The gossip is none of my concern—”

“What is the gossip these days?” He couldn’t keep the bitterness from his tone.

“We can talk about something else.”

“Since you know about Shelia, you may as well know the truth and not hearsay.”

She fingered the lettering on the front of the book. “Do you still love her?”

Did he still love Shelia? Maybe there were still times when he cared about her and thought about what he could have had with her, but he had forced himself to let go of her for Liam’s sake.

“She was my first love.” He stared ahead at the meadow shadowed with darkness and the dense woodland beyond. For a short while, he shared with Alannah about growing up next door to Shelia, becoming friends, and then falling in love with her. He told about her trip to Europe and how she’d shifted her affection to Liam at that point.

“I suspect she was pressured by her family,” Kiernan finished. “After all, Liam is one of the wealthiest men in St. Louis, and though I have means, I am still trying to make my own way.”

“Ach, if she truly loved you, that wouldn’t have mattered.” Alannah’s voice held a thread of indignation, and he liked it, liked that she was upset on his behalf.

“She and Liam are having an engagement party this summer.” Because of the cholera, it would be a smaller gathering than it would have been otherwise. Even so, the Douglases would likely make it as grand as possible.

“You’ll be feeling obligated to go?”

“He’s my business partner and best friend. I have no choice in the matter.”

“He doesn’t sound like any best friend I’d care to have.” This time Alannah’s voice didn’t have just a little indignation. It was loaded with it.

Kiernan lowered himself the remainder of the way so his head rested against the blanket. Not so he could see her face better, but it didn’t hurt to have a better view. “Liam’s a good fellow. I don’t think he ever realized that I harbored feelings for Shelia.”

Alannah made a scoffing sound. “Seems to me a best friend ought to be the first to know about a love interest. My cousin Hugh was my closest friend, and he always knew who I liked, sometimes even before I was willing to admit it.”

“And exactly how many hearts have you broken?”

Her lips curled with a smile, showing off that tiny pucker in her upper lip, a pucker he wanted to trace, even if for just a second.

“Who says I’ve broken any hearts at all?”

“I do.”

She cast her eyes down, her lashes falling against her cheeks. She clearly liked his roundabout compliment. He was tempted to be more direct, but if he had any hope of keeping his relationship with Alannah platonic, then he couldn’t get carried away.

“So?” he persisted, not sure why he cared so much about the previous men in her life, but he did.

She hesitated a moment longer before telling him the stories of different boys and men who’d tried to win her hand. Kiernan wasn’t surprised that she’d had more interest than she could keep count of.

But she’d only ever had two that she was serious about. One had been a family friend her da had wanted her to marry. But apparently after her da died, the relationship hadn’t lasted.

The other had been with a fellow who had joined a rebel group, the Young Irelanders, with Torin in an effort to fight for Ireland’s independence from Great Britain. The young man had died of a gunshot wound he sustained during a skirmish during the uprising in ’48.

“What about here in St. Louis?” Kiernan couldn’t keep himself from probing, a strange need driving him.

She twisted the loose hair at the end of her braid and didn’t meet his eyes.

His gut cinched. “You do like someone.”

“Maybe.” Her response was tentative.

Maybe? What kind of answer was that? “I haven’t seen you with anyone.” Did this have to do with Bellamy? Had Torin gone through with using Bellamy even though Kiernan had asked him—no, ordered him—to call off the matchmaking?

Kiernan pushed back up to his elbows, frustration mounting within him. He had no right to interfere with Torin and Alannah’s decision in the first place.

“So do you think you’ll marry him?” The question popped out before Kiernan could censor it. It was meddlesome, but once spoken, he refused to take it back.

Alannah still didn’t look up, kept her focus on the tip of her braid. “I’m trying to figure it out.”

Kiernan wanted to tell her that he’d figure it out for her by canceling all plans with the fellow. But he’d already been forward enough.

“How about you?” Her cheeks were most definitely turning rosier. “Do you think you’ll marry Bellamy’s choice for you?”

He had a wager to uphold. And one way or another, he was getting married. “I’m still trying to figure things out too. But I gave him my word I’d cooperate, so that’s what I’m doing.”

Her smile faded. “Oh. So it’s been difficult for you?”

His thoughts returned to the three women he’d met with over the past few nights. Bellamy had done well. Each had all twelve qualifications on his list, and the visits had been pleasant enough. But at the end of each, he hadn’t been attracted to any of them, not even a little bit.

“I’m trying to move on,” he said. “But it’s been difficult.”

Alannah nodded, her expression still solemn. “It’s alright. There’s no rush. As they say: If you don’t know the way, walk slowly.”

He wished he could take reassurance from her. But he wasn’t one to sit around and wait for things to happen. He preferred to make the moves first.

She pushed herself up so she was standing, tucked the book under one arm, and took up the lantern in the other hand. “Friendship is always a good place to start any relationship.” She offered the words of advice almost shyly.

“So it is.”

“I think you’d make a great friend.”

“You don’t know me.”

“I know you well enough.”

He’d lost track of the trajectory of the conversation. How had they gone from talking about his matchmaking to their friendship?

He stood and gathered the blanket.

“Friendship, then?” She ambled toward the flower beds.

He’d gotten a glimpse of her ankles and calves the last time they were out in the field, and now he caught sight again of that stretch of her legs, the creamy skin, the smooth shape. Just the tiniest look sent a trail of heat blazing through him.

He tore his gaze from her. What was he doing? He had to stay far away from lusting after her. Was the best way to do that to focus on being friends, the way she was requesting?

“Well?” She stopped beside one of the raised beds. The blooms were an array of colors that even in the darkness held a vibrancy and heady scent.

“Friendship it is.” What did two people do when they were agreeing on becoming friends? Should he offer a handshake?

She gave him a smile, one that was warm and encouraging. “It’ll be good. Kiernan.”

At the use of his given name, the last resistance inside him came tumbling down, and he smiled in return. Friendship with Alannah wouldn’t hurt anything. In fact, maybe it was just what he needed.