Page 7 of A Wager with the Matchmaker (A Shanahan Match #3)

7

Alannah chanced another look at Kiernan standing near the edge of the blanket.

Oh, saints above. His chest gleamed in the moonlight, showing every hard and rounded muscle in his upper body—a body that was honed and tough, so much so that his suspenders pulled taut against his bare flesh.

Aye, she’d witnessed men without their shirts on before, especially in the crowded living conditions at her aunt’s house and then on the ship to America. But she’d never seen a man who looked like Kiernan, either with or without his shirt.

She had the unholy urge to press her palms to his chest and feel the strength of his body rippling against her.

As though sensing her perusal, his gaze connected with hers, direct and intense and filled with interest.

Something sparked to life in the air between them, making her stomach flutter with a rush of warm pleasure.

Had Bellamy told Kiernan about their match? Was that why he’d sought her out? And was that why he was looking at her with undisguised desire?

If Bellamy intended to see them matched, why not get it out in the open? At the very least, she could hint at the subject. “So you met with Bellamy earlier tonight too?”

He seemed to wrench his attention from her and focus instead on the night sky. “Don’t worry. I told him I would discuss it with Torin tomorrow.”

A shiver shimmied up her spine. Did Kiernan really want her? It seemed unfathomable. But if he was talking to Torin about it, then maybe he was asking her brother for permission to have her hand in marriage.

“I’m not sure how Torin will react.” She plucked the long-stemmed daisy beside the edge of the blanket. What would her brother think about her being matched with his boss? For that matter, how did she really feel about it?

Since Bellamy had brought it up, she’d mostly put the possibility out of her mind, hadn’t believed Kiernan would agree. After all, he could have any woman he wanted in St. Louis—or in all of America. Why would he settle for a poor nobody like her? And should she let him? Maybe she ought to tell Bellamy that Kiernan deserved someone better.

Besides, even if Kiernan agreed to the match, she couldn’t imagine his parents allowing it, not after Mrs. Shanahan’s warning that first day of employment. But maybe Bellamy would know how to convince Kiernan’s parents and smooth over any problems.

“Torin wants you to be happy.” Kiernan’s voice held his usual note of confidence. “Once I assure him you’re happy here, he’ll be fine.”

How could Torin find fault with a man like Kiernan? How could she?

But could she push aside her concerns and fears about get ting married and starting a family? The fears that had taken root after all she’d witnessed those last months in Tralee?

She pressed a hand against the lump in her skirt pocket, feeling the outline of the hard roll she’d stuffed there after supper. She wasn’t sure why she’d felt the urgency to save it for Cagney. But she had. How long before everything became only a memory instead of a pulsing worry that still lingered at the back of her mind?

“You are happy here, aren’t you?” Kiernan slid a sideways look her way.

Was she? Her work for the O’Briens had been easier, and Mrs. Christy had been a wonderful and kind housekeeper. But Alannah certainly couldn’t complain about Oakland.

“You’re not happy.” Kiernan’s brow creased.

“No, I am.”

“You hesitated. That means something.”

“It means I’m still adjusting, so it does.”

The creases in his forehead didn’t go away.

“What’s not to like about all this?” She waved a hand at the countryside. If she went through with the match with Kiernan—and she hadn’t decided yet if she would—then she would get to live at Oakland all the time. And she wouldn’t be working as a servant anymore, would she?

’Twas too odd to think about living in the house as a part of the family and not the hired help.

He was silent for a beat. “The work is too much.”

“No, I’m a lucky lass to have it, and I won’t be complaining.”

“I’ll talk to my mam about it.”

“You can’t.” Her response came out emphatic.

He quirked a brow at her.

She climbed to her feet, as though doing so could block him from going to his mam. “She’ll think I put you up to it and dislike me even more.”

“She doesn’t dislike you.”

Mrs. Shanahan might tolerate her but would never like her, which was one more reason not to push forward with Bellamy’s crazy idea.

“Hey now.” Kiernan reached out a hand toward her arm but stopped before touching her and instead swatted away a firefly. “My mam can be an opinionated woman, but she’ll eventually grow to like you.”

“Do you really think so?”

“Who wouldn’t like you?”

She could feel a smile working its way free. “Don’t be flattering me now. You know what they say about blarney, don’t you?”

“Remind me.”

“Soft words butter no turnips.”

“They also say: A kind word never broke anyone’s mouth.”

“Aye, so they do. But I’ve heard it said: ’Tis often that a person’s mouth broke his nose.”

His grin inched up on one side, a lopsided one that made him all the more attractive, sending her stomach tumbling end over end.

She liked Kiernan. She had no reason to deny it any longer—not now that Bellamy was working on their match.

“What are you reading?” He nodded toward the book she still held, now tucked into a fold of her nightgown.

“’Tis Oliver Twist .”

“Is Dickens your favorite?”

“I like him well enough.”

“I would have guessed you are a Jane Austen enthusiast.”

“I’ve actually never had the opportunity to read any of her novels.” Most of Alannah’s books had belonged to her mam—books her da had purchased for Mam long before the hard times had fallen on their family, during the days when they could afford the luxury of buying a book.

Mam had loved reading more than just about anything else. In the years before her passing, she’d met one of her favorite authors and had started editing for him. She’d had a keen eye for mistakes and also a way with words so that eventually other authors had sought out her editing skills.

Alannah had been told she had a keen eye, too, and she hoped to follow in her mam’s footsteps. She’d been making some progress before leaving Ireland, editing for her cousin Hugh and a few other journalists who worked with him at the Kerry Evening Post . But she hadn’t done any editing in the many months since she’d sailed away from Ireland.

Standing but a foot away, Kiernan stuffed his hands into his pockets. The motion only drew her attention back to his bare chest and the well-rounded contours.

His gaze swept over her again too.

What was she doing alone with Kiernan in nothing but her nightgown? It was indecent, that’s what.

He tore his gaze from her and shifted around to face the house instead. Obviously, he knew their predicament was indecent too.

He cleared his throat. “I should go.”

“Aye, ’tis late, to be sure.”

With his hands still shoved into his pockets and his arms stiff, he started through the flower gardens. She wanted to gather up the blanket and lamp and walk back with him. But ’twas likely for the best if they made their way inside the house separately just in case any of the other servants or family were awake and happened to see them.

When he disappeared from sight, she released a tight breath and the tension she hadn’t known was building inside her.

Marry Kiernan Shanahan? Bellamy’s suggestion was too farfetched to be true. She never would have had the courage to propose a match like that on her own, not ever. But Kiernan hadn’t seemed opposed to it. In fact, he hadn’t uttered one negative word about it.

Was it possible Kiernan could want her? That he looked beyond all the reasons they weren’t right for each other and saw only the reasons they were?

And what exactly were those reasons? Bellamy must have seen something about them he thought made them fit well together.

She released a shaky laugh, then bent to retrieve the lantern and the blanket. “No, Bellamy. I’m no fool. This cannot work.”

But even as she stood and watched the house, studying the window that belonged to Kiernan’s room on the second floor, her heart pounded a traitorous extra beat. Kiernan had been good to her and Torin, had already done so much for both of them, even though he hadn’t needed to. He was hardworking, knew what he wanted, and wasn’t afraid to go after it. He loved his family and was loyal to them. Those were just a few of the things she liked about him, and there were more.

Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to get to know Kiernan better. After all, she’d told Bellamy she would give the matchmaking a fair chance, and she couldn’t go back on her word.

The trouble was, she and Kiernan were both so busy. How would she find any time to spend with him? Alone?

It would have to be alone. As inappropriate as that might be, she couldn’t risk Mrs. Shanahan discovering her with Kiernan. Not yet—not until she was more certain of what the future held.

The next morning Alannah was up at dawn, as usual, before the family awoke. It was only in those few moments of forcing herself from bed that she regretted her late-night reading habit and determined not to read so late. However, once she was in the kitchen and had a mug of coffee in hand, her resolve faded.

As she washed the remaining dishes from the previous evening’s meal, she scrambled to find excuses to go inside the house so she might orchestrate an “accidental” meeting with Kiernan as he rushed to leave for the brickyard.

But as soon as she finished with the scrubbing, Cook set her to kneading dough for rolls and bread at the center worktable. They needed to do as much of the baking as they could in the early hours of the day before the heat became more unbearable than it already was.

After Cook left carrying a fresh pot of coffee to the dining room, Alannah paused and watched out the window. The scene was too beautiful to miss with the rising sun casting a haze over the meadow where she and Kiernan had met last night. A doe and her twin babes were grazing, their ears flickering back and forth at every noise they heard, their large eyes wide and alert.

Alannah wiped her hands on her apron and approached the window to get a better view. She’d already seen the trio several other times during the week, and she never tired of their visits.

At a soft rap against the doorframe behind her, she startled and spun.

Kiernan stood in the open doorway, attired in one of his sharp suits, this one a light charcoal with a cravat that matched his black hat.

“Good morning,” he said softly. By the light of day, his blue eyes, though still dark and intense, were less intimidating. And his expression was less imposing.

Even so, she couldn’t seem to find her voice to respond to him. It had been so much easier to talk to him in the darkness.

He ducked inside and then stood with his arms behind his back, taking in the center table with the abandoned lumps of dough amidst the flour. Then his gaze shifted to her, pausing on her cheek and nose.

“Do I have flour on my face?” She lifted a hand and swiped at the spots, hoping to make herself more presentable. Her hair was coiled into the required knot and stowed under her maid’s cap, and her apron was mostly clean over her black uniform.

“You’re making it worse.” With a grin making its way up his lips, he started around the table toward her.

She took a step back until she bumped against the wall and window. Several glass bottles on the sill rattled together, and she spun to keep them from toppling. As she started to straighten them, Kiernan’s arm swept past her.

Standing directly behind her, almost boxing her in, he steadied one too.

She was suddenly conscious of his clean, masculine aftershave—a woodsy scent she’d noticed on other occasions but that was pungent this time of day and at his proximity.

His fingers lingered on the bottle, even though it was safe, and he seemed to be looking past her out the window. “Ah, the doe and her fawns are out this morning.” His voice rumbled low beside her ear, and his chest was near her back and radiated warmth.

She was almost tempted to lean into him, but she held herself still and pretended she didn’t notice how close he was, focusing instead on the deer. “They’re beautiful, aren’t they?”

He didn’t respond.

As with that morning in the carriage ride to Oakland, she felt an invisible tug toward him, something magnetic and powerful. Kiernan Shanahan was a difficult man to resist. And she wasn’t sure if she wanted or needed to resist him anymore.

Her thoughts were tangled, the threads of her reasoning crisscrossing first one way and then back the other. There were so many reasons why she needed to keep herself from falling for him. There were also reasons why she wanted to throw aside caution and embrace the possibilities.

Whatever she decided, she couldn’t stand in the kitchen practically in his arms. Cook would be back soon. For that matter, anyone could come by, including Kiernan’s mother.

She sidled away from him. “You’re usually gone from the house by this hour.”

He didn’t move from where he stood, except that his gaze followed her. “I didn’t realize you paid attention to my schedule.”

“I don’t.” A flush climbed into her cheeks as she rounded the worktable and returned to her spot in front of the dough. “It’s just that you’ve been gone such long hours each day this week.”

“So you’ve noticed I’m gone.”

She reached for the dough, her flush working its way higher. “Mr. Shanahan, I assure you—”

“Call me Kiernan.”

She paused, her knuckles fisted and ready to begin kneading again. She didn’t have the right to call him Kiernan. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

Blowing out a terse, almost exasperated breath, he shifted around to face the window, his shoulders turning rigid. He held himself motionless for several heartbeats.

She didn’t dare move either. Was he upset at her or himself?

Finally, he pivoted with a scowl. “I just came to say that I’ve thought about it more. You’re not to go out again at night. Stay in the house.”

It was her turn to stiffen. She’d been bold to speak her mind with him last night, but she couldn’t do so again today. After all, as the old saying went, a little dog can frighten a hare, but it took a big one to catch it.

She was nothing more than a little dog. What could she really do other than bark? Her bite had no strength.

He didn’t wait for her response, was already striding toward the door, his heels clicking with finality. Without another word, he exited, leaving her staring after his retreating back.

Ach, Kiernan Shanahan was a vexing man, warm toward her one moment and in the next as cold as the ocean in winter. ’Twas clear that he didn’t know what he wanted either.

Even though she’d told Bellamy she would give the match a chance, she’d said so before she’d known he had Kiernan in mind. Surely she wasn’t obligated to follow through now that she knew Bellamy had planned something so impossible.

Because the truth was ... a match with Kiernan would never work.