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

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She was riding in a carriage with Kiernan Shanahan. Alannah was tempted to pinch herself to see if she was dreaming, but she’d refrained so far. Over the past weeks of knowing him, she’d only spent time with him in passing, just a few minutes here and there.

Oh aye, she’d thought about what it would be like to have longer, but she’d never pictured taking a carriage ride with him—the most eligible bachelor in St. Louis.

He sat on the seat across from her, more handsome than ever in a blue suit with a matching blue cravat tied about his collar. He’d removed his hat, and his reddish brown hair was combed into rakish waves, lending an air of wildness to his otherwise immaculate and put-together appearance.

With his smoothly shaven face, the dimple in his chin was visible, and the muscles in his hard jaw ticked from time to time. His dark blue eyes were fringed with lashes the same color as his hair.

“I told Torin the plans,” he said, his gaze riveted on the scenery outside the carriage window. He braced both of his large hands on his knees, fingers splayed. He had nice fingernails, clean like most gentlemen, and bluntly cut.

Alannah had plastered herself to the leather seat in the shadows as far from the windows as she could fit, and she hadn’t moved since the start of the journey a short while ago. They’d reached the edges of the city, and at the sight of the trees and meadows, she was eager to sit forward and take it all in.

The flat grasslands and forests were different than the rugged hills of County Kerry. But as with the last time she’d been in the countryside during the fire, she relished every single moment of the beauty. It took away the homesickness a wee bit.

“Your brother was agreeable to the new employment,” Kiernan continued. “But he still has a mind to have Bellamy find you a match.”

She expelled a frustrated breath. It wasn’t that she was opposed to getting married. But she didn’t want to rush into something, especially not when life was still so hard and uncertain. She’d watched too many young women her age back home get married and have families only to struggle to feed their wee ones. She’d told herself she’d never put herself in that situation, that she’d wait to be secure, maybe have an editing job and be able to provide.

“Torin’s a good brother, so he is.” He was all she had left of her family, and she couldn’t lose him. He was doing what he thought was best for her because he loved her too. “But sometimes he likes to think he’s my da.”

Kiernan was quiet for a beat. “And your da? Where is he?”

“Watching down on us from heaven.”

“I’m sorry.” Kiernan’s voice was laced with regret.

She tried to offer him a smile, but it hardly reached her lips. “He’s happy now. He’s holding Mam’s hand again.”

“Your mam died of hunger too?”

“No, neither died of hunger, thanks be. Mam passed on when I was but a girl. And Da died of a heart attack two years ago.” Was she sharing too much? It felt natural to be telling Kiernan more about her family, especially since he already knew how much she loved Torin. Even so, she couldn’t forget their boundaries, and that she was just an employee.

“So Torin’s taken care of you ever since?”

“We went to live with my aunt and cousins. But aye, Torin took on the responsibility for me and Cagney, my younger brother.” Losing him was still raw and painful.

Kiernan didn’t say anything, was instead watching her intently, as though sensing there was more heartache to her story.

As a growing young man of fourteen, Cagney had never had enough to eat during those last weeks and months in Ireland. Although Aunt Joan had done her best to provide for their family as well as her brood of children, there hadn’t been sufficient food to satisfy everyone. Even with Alannah’s favorite of her cousins, Hugh, working at the newspaper as a reporter, his pay had been sporadic, and the shortages of food all over the county had affected everyone.

When Torin’s letter with the notes for passage had finally come, she’d been tempted to spend the money on food. She hadn’t wanted to leave the place of her birth, the land she loved, or the people she cared about. She’d never gone far beyond the boundaries of Tralee, much less halfway around the world.

But she’d known Cagney’s and her leaving would ease the suffering of her aunt and cousins. So she and her younger brother had boarded the ship and headed for St. Louis where Torin had found work and Irish Catholics were welcome—or mostly so.

If only the days in steerage on the long voyage across the Atlantic hadn’t been so terrible. At the start, Cagney had already been too thin and weak. He’d lasted two weeks in the dark and damp bowels of the ship before he’d caught dysentery—or so the ship’s physician believed. Her brother had made it another week before being tossed into the sea with many others who’d died on the voyage.

“Cagney, well he...” She pushed the words past her constricting throat. “He didn’t survive the journey here.”

She almost jumped at the sudden pressure of Kiernan’s hand upon hers that she’d folded in her lap. But somehow she managed to remain absolutely motionless, even as her mind began to race.

Kiernan Shanahan was holding her hand.

Well, maybe not exactly holding it. But he was touching her—his long, strong fingers offering what he probably thought was a comforting pat.

Her body didn’t get the message that the contact was merely polite—a kind gesture. Instead, her blood rushed forward with a strange heat that went directly to her chest, warming her insides, making the already stuffy interior of the carriage suddenly sweltering.

She didn’t want to stare at his hand and make it obvious how fascinated she was by him. So she closed her eyes. Even with her eyes shut, she could still picture his fingers covering hers, his skin slightly darker, a dusting of freckles on the back of his hands, the veins pulsing there.

He squeezed her hand, then released her. “I can’t imagine how hard this has all been.” His voice was surprisingly soft and tender.

Ach, maybe he thought she’d closed her eyes to hold back tears of grief. He’d be appalled if he knew she’d done it so she didn’t get carried away by making more of his comfort than he’d intended.

“Now I understand better why Torin’s so set on protecting you.”

She let her lashes rise and caught Kiernan’s gaze again. He’d bent forward, and his face was but a foot away from hers, his eyes dark and crinkled at the corners with sympathy.

She wanted to simply admire his features. But she knew enough about the dynamics between men and women to understand that giving way to admiring glances, a teasing smile, or even a coy batting of her eyelashes would only encourage what could never be.

She’d used such tactics in her youth to gain what she wanted from the young men who’d showered her with attention, especially during that period of her life after her da’s death when she’d abandoned God and her faith, when she’d joined Hugh in his revelries with friends.

But here, now? Such flirtatious ploys were too bold and presumptuous between a woman of her low birth and a wealthy gentleman like Kiernan.

“He’s probably afraid of losing you,” Kiernan continued. “Especially after you’ve both lost so many people you care about already.”

She had. And she didn’t like to be reminded of the losses. It stirred the helplessness and the feelings of abandonment. She hated thinking about how alone she’d felt on the ship and after arriving in St. Louis when she hadn’t known anyone. With Torin already staying in a men’s-only boardinghouse, she hadn’t been able to live with him, had hardly been able to spend time with him because of his working such long hours every day.

Aye, she’d even felt abandoned by God, as if her prayers had lifted a part of the way toward heaven and then crashed back to the ground.

Kiernan was still watching her with warm eyes, likely waiting for her to say something more.

But what could she say that didn’t sound bitter? She scrambled to find something—anything—and settled on a gentler version of the truth. “I am grateful I’m alive when many others have died. But I cannot deny that I wish I’d never come here. I’ve only caused problems for Torin.”

He’d scooted to the edge of his seat, and his knees nearly brushed hers. “I know nothing I say will bring back those you’ve lost. But I’m glad you came and glad you’re here.”

She couldn’t keep from locking gazes with him again. She was being too bold as his employee, needed to remember her place in the social order. But at the moment, she craved the comfort, had been without it for so long that she couldn’t turn away from it, wanted to drink it all in while he was offering it.

Hugh had been the friend she’d turned to when she needed to talk. He’d listened well, had been there after Da’s death, and had always consoled her. She supposed in some ways she was used to a man being her closest friend, and it was all too easy to imagine—even hope—that maybe she could find a friend in Kiernan in spite of their differences.

Up so close, she could see that the blue of his eyes contained flecks of green, a fascinating combination. His gaze held hers a heartbeat longer before circling around her face, drifting to her cheek, her chin, then her mouth.

What was he doing?

His pupils darkened with something she recognized. Desire.

Kiernan Shanahan wasn’t thinking about kissing her, was he? No, he was too polite, too much a man of honor to initiate a kiss.

Even so, he clearly found her attractive.

She held her breath and didn’t move. She hadn’t welcomed Shaw’s kiss, hadn’t wanted him putting even a finger upon her.

But she couldn’t deny that she’d liked Kiernan’s brief touch and the closeness. There was also no denying that she was attracted to him. He was a magnetic man and had been from the moment she’d met him.

Yet, where could such kissing lead?

Of course, she wasn’t naive. Wealthy gentlemen sometimes had dalliances with their maids. Everyone in service knew it happened. Yet Kiernan wasn’t like that. She hadn’t known him long, but it had been long enough to recognize he was a good man. He’d never expected favors in exchange for getting her the job at his sister’s. He wouldn’t expect anything now either.

Besides, a gentleman of Kiernan’s wealth and status would never truly be interested in her. Although she hadn’t seen him with any women during his visits to the O’Briens, she’d heard his sister tease him about various women, likely the best and wealthiest of St. Louis.

Aye, sharing a kiss with him would be foolish and rash. She couldn’t let it happen now or anytime. Even though she’d exchanged a few short kisses in her life with different admirers, she wasn’t in the habit of kissing men whenever she was alone with one. She’d always wanted to save kissing for the person she intended to marry.

She sat back. From the corner of her eye, she could see Kiernan recline against his seat, too, putting a safe distance between them.

He was quiet for several moments, then spoke again. “Maybe you will be able to see Torin more often now that I’ve made him a supervisor in my new brickyard.”

Was he remembering the time when she’d cried over Torin? It had been shortly after she first started working at the O’Briens’. She and Kiernan had been talking, and she admitted how she missed spending time with her brother and how she’d never imagined that once she moved to America she wouldn’t be with him.

Hopefully, Kiernan didn’t remember that incident. She normally didn’t get so emotional around strangers.

“He’s no longer working at the glass factory?” She hoped she didn’t sound too desperate.

“No, he officially starts working tomorrow at the brickyard. It’s south of Oakland by a couple of miles.”

Relief swelled inside her. “I’ll be happy he’s out in the fresh air of the countryside away from the cholera. But ’tis a long way to be walking back and forth to work, to be sure.”

“Not to worry. We’ve started construction for housing. Until then, many are staying in tents.”

“’Tis kind of you.”

He shrugged. “Torin’s a very bright worker, always fiddling around with the machines and trying to make improvements.”

“Our da was a mechanic at one of the mills in Tralee, tasked with ensuring that the machines were in working order. Torin takes after him, so.”

She wanted to ask Kiernan more about brickmaking and what that was like and why he’d chosen to start such a business, but the carriage turned off the gravel road onto a narrower dirt lane.

She recognized the tall oaks lining either side and the long grass filled with wildflowers. They’d arrived at Oakland.

She leaned against the window to view the sprawling home. She’d never seen an Italian palace, but she imagined that’s what Oakland resembled with its square tower, cornices rising from the roof, and balconies on the second floor.

The carriage rolled down the driveway, circled a small pond with a fountain in the center, then rounded toward the front of the home.

Large potted plants graced either side of the entrance at the top of a wide stairway. Long covered verandas spread out on either side, filled with elegant patio furniture and more greenery and flowers.

Towering oaks not only bordered the lane but also surrounded the home, providing plenty of shade. Beautiful flower gardens had been planted behind the house, and the woodland and meadows all around glistened in the morning sunshine.

’Twas a home unlike any Alannah had visited anywhere else, and her breath snagged just looking at it. It might not be County Kerry, but it filled her heart to see so much beauty, and she was more than a wee bit happy to be back.

“Is something amiss?” Kiernan paused in straightening his cravat.

“No. Everything is grand.”

“You sighed.”

Had she? If so, she hadn’t noticed. “I beg your pardon.”

He resumed his task of fixing his cravat. “Just making sure you’re all right.”

Was he now? “I thank you, Mr. Shanahan.”

He blew out a taut breath.

“Is something amiss?” She lobbed the question back at him, smiling at the same time so he would know she was teasing.

He was swinging the carriage door open. As he stretched one foot out onto the carriage step, he glanced at her again, and his brows rose.

She supposed for a servant, the bantering was out of line. But after talking casually with him about her family and past, it was all too easy to let down her guard.

Mrs. Christy had warned her against being overly friendly with the family, encouraging her never to forget that even when the boundaries of class seemed to come down, they were still there. The housekeeper had indicated that the crossing of boundaries was the primary cause of being let go from a domestic position.

Alannah couldn’t lose her job today, not now that she was here in the countryside. She wanted—no, needed—to stay. She had no other prospects. This was her best option.

Her smile vanished. “I’m sorry, so I am, Mr. Shanahan. I shouldn’t have been teasing you.”

He gave a slight shrug. “You took me by surprise, and not many people do.”

He finished descending, then held a hand toward her to assist her down as if she were a grand lady wearing a fancy gown. She needed to politely decline and climb out for herself without pretending to be someone special.

But he grasped her hand before she could tuck it away. As his fingers encircled hers, the same tingles she’d felt earlier raced along her nerve endings. This time she kept her gaze averted, not wanting to encourage whatever attraction was between them.

She climbed out of the carriage, and as her feet touched the ground, the front door opened and Mrs. Shanahan stepped onto the veranda. A petite woman with brown hair, she had delicate, pretty features that had aged well, making her appear younger than her middle age.

For as delicate as Mrs. Shanahan might look, she was the complete opposite in temperament. During Alannah’s last visit to Oakland, she’d learned the matron ran a strict home. While she was stern and exacting, it had also become clear that she loved her family fiercely and had an inner strength that was the backbone of the family.

“Kiernan.” Mrs. Shanahan crossed to the top step into the sunshine. “Is something wrong? Whyever are you home in the middle of the morn?”

“Everything’s fine.” Kiernan turned to face his mam, still holding Alannah’s hand. “I’ve brought you a new maid to work at Oakland.”

Mrs. Shanahan shielded her eyes with a hand as her attention went directly to Alannah’s hand within Kiernan’s. In the next instant, a frown puckered her forehead.

Not wanting to earn the matron’s disapproval, Alannah tugged her hand free.

“You remember Alannah, don’t you, Mam?” He stuffed his hands into his pockets. “She was here with Enya last month.”

Mrs. Shanahan descended two more steps. “Who is saying I need another maid?”

“I’m saying so. I’ll be staying at Oakland the rest of the summer to oversee the brickyard. As a result, I’m hiring an extra hand.”

“We’ve plenty of help and need no more.”

A flush worked its way up Alannah’s face. Mercy. ’Twas obvious Kiernan hadn’t consulted his mam before bringing her out. ’Twas also obvious the woman didn’t want another maid.

“Last time I was here you said that you had to leave a couple of servants in the city for Riley and Finola, and now you’re short of staff.”

“Aye, a butler, not a maid.”

“Help is help.” Kiernan turned and took Alannah’s bag from the coachman. Kiernan’s shoulder slumped momentarily under the weight, as he was clearly unprepared for the heaviness of her bag containing her collection of books.

She grasped one of the handles. “I’ll carry it.”

He straightened himself. “Did you pack bricks?”

“No, ’tis my books, so it is.” Her collection wasn’t large—only a dozen or so. But she loved each precious volume she owned and had carried them with her across the ocean, no matter how heavy they’d made her luggage.

Breaking free of her grasp on the bag, he trotted up the steps. As he reached his mother, he paused. “Alannah will be staying here, Mam.”

Mrs. Shanahan shook her head. “That’s not a good idea—”

“I’ve already made up my mind.” Though his tone was respectful, it was firm. “She is in danger and needs a safe place to hide and work.”

“What kind of danger?”

“Nothing for you to worry about. But I’d like you to make sure the other servants know they’re not to mention her being here.”

Mrs. Shanahan pursed her lips, looking none too pleased with the information.

“Thank you, Mam.” He placed a gentle kiss on her cheek before moving past her toward the front door.

Alannah stood frozen to her spot near the carriage. Should she climb back inside and ask the coachman to return her to the O’Briens’?

As Kiernan entered the house and the door closed behind him, Mrs. Shanahan released a terse breath. Then she settled her critical gaze upon Alannah, taking her in from her white cap down to her black lace-up boots.

What did the woman think of her? That she would now be saddled with an inexperienced servant she didn’t need? After all, everyone knew Alannah hadn’t been a domestic long and that her position with the O’Briens had been her first.

Alannah didn’t want to cower under the woman’s scrutiny, so she took a deep breath. The least she could do was offer to leave. “I’m sorry—”

“You’ll confine your duties to the kitchen.” Mrs. Shanahan’s tone was clipped and unfriendly, and her expression was decidedly displeased. “As a scullery maid.”

A scullery maid was the most demanding of the domestic positions and the lowest ranking, requiring long hours of scrubbing and cleaning and hauling water. Alannah had heard other young women complain about how the scullery maid was given the worst tasks that none of the other servants wanted to do.

Mrs. Shanahan lifted a brow, as though waiting for Alannah to protest.

But how could she? It was a job, and she’d have a place to live. Besides, with Oakland having a detached summer kitchen near the gardens behind the house, perhaps the work would be a wee bit more bearable.

Rather than turning down the offer, Alannah curtsied. “I thank you, Mrs. Shanahan.”

The matron stood stiffly a moment longer, staring at Alannah. Finally, she cast a glance toward the door and then lowered her voice. “You’ll be staying away from Kiernan, do y’hear?”

“Oh aye—”

“No talking, interacting, or visiting with him. Do I make myself clear?” Her voice was nigh a whisper but sharp nonetheless. “If I see you so much as make eyes at him, I’ll be sending you away with nary a penny.”

Without waiting for Alannah’s response, Mrs. Shanahan spun on her heels and marched across the veranda into the house.

Alannah had no intention of making eyes at Kiernan Shanahan or any of the other things the woman had mentioned. But now she would have to be extra careful to stay as far from Kiernan as possible.

She’d do her best to prove she was a good maid and live by the old Irish proverb: A good beginning is half the work.