Page 6 of A Wager with the Matchmaker (A Shanahan Match #3)

6

“Thank you for coming out here to Oakland to meet with me.” Kiernan perched on the wing chair across from Bellamy in the parlor. The room was formal with elegant furniture and elaborate artwork, a fashionable place to entertain and have parties.

“Think nothing of it.” The matchmaker was reclining, legs crossed at the ankles and arms folded on his chest. “I was needing to see Alannah about her match too.”

Alannah’s match? Kiernan’s brows rose with surprise. “I assumed you’d halted the matchmaking for Alannah now that she has employment.”

Bellamy was once again watching him carefully, analyzing every move he made. “Torin insists that she get married.”

“I’ll talk to Torin, assure him Alannah is safe here.”

“I already found someone for her.”

Kiernan, in the process of leaning back, halted. “So soon?”

Bellamy shrugged one shoulder. “It was easy to figure out the right man.”

Kiernan pushed up from the chair and paced to the open window, hoping for a breeze but only feeling more of the sticky air that had plagued them for the past week. He’d been tempted to meet with Bellamy outside. But he didn’t want to worry that his mam would walk past and join in the conversation.

A small part of him had hoped to see Alannah tonight, since he’d arrived home early. But so far, he hadn’t come across her. In fact he hadn’t seen her all week and merely wanted to inquire after how she was adjusting to her new position. It was beginning to feel as though she was purposefully avoiding him.

“Who is the lucky man?” He tried to make his tone casual. “If you don’t mind my asking.”

“Ach, I wish I could tell you, Kiernan.” Bellamy’s voice lacked sincerity. “But I cannot be saying so, not until I work on getting the groom ready a wee bit more.”

“So he’s not in agreement?”

“He will be soon enough.”

“If you have to push him, maybe he’s not the right man.”

“As Oscar always says, it’s the job of the matchmaker to help people see the road less traveled because too often they have their sights stuck on the predictable route.”

Kiernan frowned. “I don’t understand.”

“Sometimes a person needs a nudge toward a choice they might not normally consider.”

“So you’re nudging Alannah?”

“Oh aye. And her groom.”

Kiernan wasn’t sure he liked the sound of Bellamy’s plan for Alannah. But there was no sense getting riled up about it. He would talk with Torin tomorrow and tell him to call off the matchmaking. Then no one would be pushing Alannah for good, bad, or otherwise.

Kiernan returned to his chair and lowered himself. “Listen, Bellamy. Instead of focusing on Alannah, focus on me instead. I’ve been waiting for my turn to have a match even before you found matches for Finola and Enya.”

“Aye, so you have.” Bellamy spoke with such certainty Kiernan could almost believe the fellow knew how hurt he’d been when Shelia had chosen Liam. Maybe everyone did. Not that Kiernan had made any claims on Shelia before that Europe trip. Not that they’d even promised each other a future together. After all, she’d been too young at the time. But he had assumed they both wanted to be together and that they would wait for each other. He’d waited.

He slipped a hand into his pocket and pulled out a sheet. “Here are twelve qualities I’m looking for in a wife.” He’d come up with the list earlier in the day and had added a couple more qualifications to it when he’d arrived home. He’d been doing so when Mam had cornered him in the library and chastised him for meeting with the matchmaker without Da.

Da was back and forth between Oakland and their home in the city, and Kiernan had been spending every spare moment at the brickyard. With as busy as they both were, they hadn’t seen each other much lately. Surely Da would understand the need to move forward with the matchmaking without his involvement.

Bellamy didn’t even glance at the outstretched sheet. Instead, he stood, picked up his flatcap, and placed it on his head. “If you have that kind of list, then you won’t be needing my help.”

“I’d like you to set up appointments over the next couple of weeks, arrange meetings with each of the eligible women.”

“Would you now? I suppose you’d also like me to parade them in front of you?”

Kiernan ignored the sarcasm and extended the sheet farther. The list would narrow down the candidates, allowing Bellamy to find the most advantageous match. “Use it.”

“You use it.” Bellamy started toward the door. “I’m sure you already know a dozen women who meet the standards on your list.”

“A few. Not a dozen.”

Bellamy just shook his head.

As the matchmaker reached the door, Kiernan stood. “Wait, Bellamy.”

Hand on the knob, Bellamy halted.

“I’d like to have some input in the matter. That’s all.”

Bellamy expelled an exasperated breath. Then he turned and nodded at the list. “Input, aye. But that list is your attempt to do my job.”

“Your job is to find the kind of woman I’m looking for. The list will help.”

“My job is to decide on the kind of woman you need. Your list won’t do that.”

Kiernan swallowed his rising irritation. This meeting with the matchmaker wasn’t going the way he’d anticipated. Maybe he ought to talk to Oscar instead. No, Oscar would probably grab the list, rip it to shreds, then laugh in his face.

“All right.” Kiernan kept his voice level. “I see your point.”

Bellamy crossed his arms and leaned back against the door.

“But at least look at the list. Then you’ll know my standards.” The Shanahan standards—everything his da and mam would expect of him as the firstborn son who would carry on the Shanahan name.

He needed a woman from high society, well-bred, and well-educated. He preferred a woman who could manage a large household and host parties to entertain his business associates. A St. Louis native would also be helpful, someone with knowledge of the important people in the city and how to interact with them. He needed her to be polished, poised, and pretty.

He also wanted a woman from an affluent family who could bring that wealth into their marriage and into his business ventures. He’d been telling himself that there was nothing wrong with striving for a beneficial marriage and that most men in his social circles were endeavoring after the same thing. But he couldn’t deny that having to rely upon a dowry rankled him, made him feel weak, as though he couldn’t quite measure up to all that his da had accomplished on his own.

Bellamy was staring at him, his brows drawn. “I can already tell you that the woman I have in mind won’t meet your qualifications.”

“How do you know? Look at the list first.”

“I can’t help you, Kiernan. Not if you’re already so set on what you want.”

“I’m not set.”

“Then prove it.”

Kiernan bit back more annoyance. Maybe he should consider finding his own spouse. He could set up the invitations with the various women himself.

But what about having Bellamy’s objective advice guiding him? The matchmaker had proven himself to be wise and enterprising and even strategic while working on the matches for his sisters.

Besides, if the appointments with the women didn’t end well, Bellamy could be the one to tell each of the ladies the news. It would all be so much more professional that way.

“I’d prefer to have your help, Bellamy. But I can’t throw away my list.”

Bellamy was silent for several long heartbeats before speaking. “Let’s have a wager.”

“No, Bellamy—”

“I’ll look at your list and arrange visits with women over the next month.” Bellamy pushed away from the door and straightened. “But if you don’t fall in love with one of them during the month, then we’ll burn the list, so we will, and you’ll agree to marry the woman I pick out for you by the end of the next month.”

Kiernan hesitated. “I never said anything about falling in love with a woman.”

“Ach, love needs to go at the top of your list, Kiernan. ’Tis not meant just for fairy tales, doncha know?”

All the while he’d been writing his list, he’d never once thought of adding love to it. Was love really important? Or would liking his bride be enough?

“As long as you choose women this next month that meet the qualifications on my list.” Surely one among the batch would catch Kiernan’s attention and he’d be attracted to her. He might not fall in love, but he’d at the very least develop some feelings.

Bellamy crossed to him and took the list. Without looking at it, he folded it. “I’ll be fair. I give you my word.”

“I give you my word too.”

Bellamy stuffed the paper into his trouser pocket, then stuck out his hand. “Good. Then we have a deal.”

Kiernan shook the matchmaker’s hand and quelled the unease inside. What was he doing? He’d all but agreed to get married this summer one way or another. He hoped when the time came, he would choose the right woman.

Kiernan pressed his glass of lemonade to his cheek as he walked out of the summer kitchen. The liquid wasn’t cold, but it was refreshing nonetheless.

With the fall of night, he had hoped for relief from the heat. But in the humidity and staleness of his room, he’d tossed restlessly on his bed, even with the windows and balcony door open.

Finally, he’d tiptoed downstairs and outside, needing something to quench his thirst. His feet had taken him to the summer kitchen, just as they had many times when he’d been a boy.

He stopped in the grass and took a long drink. The land behind the house was bathed by the moon, the light of the fireflies twinkling in the darkness. He liked being away from the hustle of the city once in a while and relished the prospect of living at Oakland for the next couple of months. The place held many nostalgic memories and was still invigorating.

The only trouble was that staying in the country might make the matchmaking more complicated. He’d have to ride back to the city to meet with some of the women, but he guessed there were also plenty who were residing in the countryside for the summer or at least until the cholera was gone—if it ever went away.

His gaze snagged on a flicker of light in the flower garden. What was that? He narrowed his eyes to find what appeared to be a flame.

Quietly, he started in the direction of the light. He rounded several raised beds containing flowers, passed the gated vegetable garden, until at last he reached the edge of the meadow with its wild, untamed grass and flowers.

The light took more form, a lantern with a low-burning wick. A blanket was spread out on top of the long grass, flattening it. And the lantern was at the center of the blanket with a person—a woman—stretched out beside it. She was lying on her stomach, her long white nightgown tangled in her legs. Propped up on her elbows, she held a book close to the lantern and was reading.

Was this Zaira? His youngest sister was an avid reader and free-spirited enough to escape the heat of the house to do something like this.

As he drew closer, his foot landed in a patch of dried leaves, and a crackling broke through the soft trilling of the crickets.

The woman on the blanket glanced his way. With a startled intake, she scrambled to sit up.

The lantern light glistened now upon her hair, revealing blond waves falling all around her, nearly reaching her waist. Her face was also fully visible, her beautiful features creased with apprehension.

“Alannah?” He halted. “What are you doing?”

“Mr. Shanahan.” She didn’t move, except to close her book. “I’m getting a breath of air.”

He frowned and surveyed the property. “It’s not wise to be out here by yourself.”

She followed his gaze. “I’m alone, or I was until you scared me.”

“What if I’d been someone else? Someone less honorable?” His sights dropped to her nightgown. Even though a part of him knew he shouldn’t look at her state of undress, he took her in anyway. By the glow of the lantern, it was all too easy to see the way the light cotton material clung to her curves and the bare patch of her ankles and calves where the gown had crept up.

As though realizing her indecency, she hurriedly tugged at the hem of her nightgown, trying to cover her feet. In her haste, she yanked too hard, and the garment slid off her shoulder on one side, drawing his attention to the bare stretch of her collarbone and the elegant curve of her shoulder visible beneath her hair.

Her fingers flew to the neckline, and she slid it back up. At the same time, she was taking him in, her gaze widening with obvious embarrassment.

He peered down at himself and then remembered that he’d hastily donned his trousers and suspenders before leaving his room, but otherwise he was bare chested and had bare feet. He wasn’t decently attired either—not for an encounter with a woman.

He took a step back. “You should go inside.” His voice came out rougher than he intended.

She dropped her gaze to the blanket in front of her and held herself stiffly. “’Tis a pleasant night, and no one knows I’m here. If you don’t mind, I’d like to stay a wee bit longer.”

“Not out here by yourself.” He released a low scoff. “No.”

“I’ve been fine every single time I’ve come out here—”

“You’ve done this before?”

She hesitated.

That was all the answer he needed. “No more coming out at night.”

Even in the dark, he could see a flash of stubbornness in her expression. “While I’m not on duty, I’d like to be deciding for myself—”

“I’m deciding it for you.” He cocked his head in the direction of the house. “Now come on with you.”

Lifting her chin, she sat up straighter. “You might own me during the day, but my time belongs to me at night.”

“Own you?” He couldn’t keep his tone from rising at the absurdity of her declaration.

“Aye. I’m not a slave.”

“Nobody said you are.” He blew out a tense breath. The conversation wasn’t going well, not at all how he’d envisioned it. Not that he’d envisioned talking with her. ... Well, maybe he had imagined it a time or two, primarily finding her at work someplace in the house and then conversing for a few minutes.

“It wasn’t my intention to make you feel like you have no freedom.” He gentled his voice. “But I would have said the same thing to Zaira if she’d been the one out here. It’s simply not decent—or safe—for you to be out here alone.”

Alannah held his gaze for a moment before looking away. “I thank you for your concern, Mr. Shanahan. But I’ve sensed no danger here.”

“Even though you might feel safe, we can never forget that Shaw could still be searching for you and might trace you here.”

She examined the landscape shrouded in moonlight, and her features gentled. “I understand the concern, so I do. And I promise from now on I won’t stay long, and I’ll be more watchful.”

He opened his mouth to protest again.

But she continued before he could say more. “Being out here reminds me of home, and I need just a little time for it.”

How could he argue with that reasoning?

“Please?” Her plea was soft.

He absolutely couldn’t argue. That was the truth of the matter.

Silence settled between them with a distant squeak of bats out hunting. He drew in a breath of night air, relishing the scent of the grass and the soil and the freshness of it all.

If coming out to the field to read at night was so important to her, then he’d have to find a way to allow it so she remained safe. Should he accompany her? Or would that be inappropriate?

He didn’t want to bring harm to her reputation in any way by being with her at night in the dark alone. But if they both remained fully clothed and a proper distance apart, that would be sufficient, wouldn’t it?

A part of him knew it wouldn’t be enough, that he’d still put her in a compromising situation. Yet another part of him wasn’t willing to force her to stop her nightly rendezvous. Besides, even if he forbade her from coming again, perhaps she’d find a different spot that was less secluded and less safe.

What would it be like, instead, to sit on the blanket near her, talk to her for a while, and then maybe lie on his back as she read?

The very prospect of watching her in her nightgown with her hair flowing around her sent a spurt of heat through his blood, a heat he hadn’t felt in a long time, a heat that made him want to cross over to her and pull her into his arms.

No, he couldn’t think about her that way. He had to douse any and all heat. At the very least, he couldn’t act upon it. Not now and not ever. Instead, he had to keep his thoughts—and his eyes—from straying where they shouldn’t.

He was a strong man, and he could do it.

Regardless, his reaction to Alannah was all the more reason to start the process of finding a bride. He was clearly ready.