Chapter 6
He’d just kissed Zaira Shanahan. In public.
What in the wee devil had he done?
“Whoo-ee!” Georgie slapped his hand against the bar counter. “I always knew that when Bellamy found the right woman, he’d be a goner.”
Bellamy was standing close enough to Zaira that he could see the hurt in her eyes at his comment about not kissing again. He meant it. He couldn’t kiss her again. But he didn’t have to be a donkey’s hind end about it.
“He’s a goner!” Georgie shouted again. “Madly in love.”
“Who’s madly in love?” The door of the pub opened, and Oscar stepped inside. The midday sunshine outlined his bulky body and poured past him into the dimly lit room.
“Bellamy’s madly in love.” Georgie’s grin was much too big for the occasion. “And he just kissed Zaira Shanahan.”
Bellamy couldn’t deny he’d enjoyed the kiss.
Any denial would be a total lie. From the moment Zaira wrapped her arms around his neck and moved against him, his body had flared to life with a need for her so intense that he hadn’t been able to resist kissing her back.
Oh aye, he’d tried not to, had tried to think about other things, had tried to pretend she wasn’t there, had tried to ignore her luscious lips and her hot breath and her soft body.
But he hadn’t been able to think about anything but her. The longing for her had risen so strongly that it had cut off his heartbeat and breathing, leaving him incapacitated and able to do only one thing—kiss her back.
Just once. That’s all.
“Well, it’s a good thing Bellamy’s ready for love.” Oscar threw the door open wide. “Because it’s time for the matchmaker to be finding a match.”
“So it is,” someone echoed.
Oscar stepped back outside and cupped his hands around his mouth. “Let it be known!” he shouted in his loudest voice to the passersby. “I’m now accepting offers for forming a match with Bellamy! Spread the news far and wide through the Kerry Patch and beyond!”
As he shouted it again, Bellamy wanted to roll his eyes at Oscar’s theatrics, but he folded his arms instead.
Zaira had taken another step away from him, putting a table between them.
She was even more beautiful now than she’d been when he’d stepped out of the kitchen with lunch for everyone.
In fact, he’d nearly stumbled at the sight of her.
With her long hair down and her cheeks rosy from the heat and her green eyes so vibrant, he’d had a hard time preventing himself from stopping and staring at her.
But he’d forced himself to walk past her and deliver the food.
Of course, she hadn’t been willing to let him snub her. And she’d been right. He shouldn’t have canceled their bargain. It hadn’t been noble of him. If he’d done as he said, then he would have avoided having her come to town and seek him out in a public display that was sure to cause gossip.
He didn’t necessarily mind the gossip about himself. He was more worried about her reputation. Even if she was maddening, he didn’t want people speaking ill of her.
Oscar waved at several people, shouted something more, then stepped back inside.
“After failing to match the senator’s daughter,” he said as he made his way toward his corner table where his leather journal sat, “Bellamy has no choice now but to form a match of his own. ’Tis the best way to be saving his reputation as the new matchmaker and showing himself to be responsible. ”
Since the meeting between the Meiers and Whitcombs yesterday, Bellamy had talked about Zach Meier being interested in the senator’s daughter.
He’d hoped the news would alleviate some of the censure that might come his way for failing to find someone for Deirdre in a week’s time.
But most people were focused on his inability to close the deal and make something happen.
Whatever the case, Oscar was being too pushy. “There’s no need to be rushing—”
“Oh aye, there’s a need.” Oscar scraped out his chair and plopped down.
Zaira was inching her way toward the door. She was probably hoping to leave without any more notice. Her parents likely had no idea she’d come to the pub. If they discovered her presence here, they would be angry with her, even scandalized.
“No more putting off marriage, Bellamy.” Oscar opened his ledger. “You have to be proving to everyone that you know all about love and marriage and relationships.”
All the dormant frustration inside Bellamy swirled into a growing storm.
Oscar had no right to preach about proving things he knew nothing about.
He hadn’t loved his wife the way she’d needed, and his lack of sensitivity and hardheadedness had driven his wife to drink and eventually desert their family.
If Oscar couldn’t make a marriage work, why did he think Bellamy could? Especially when he was well aware the McKenna matchmakers were unlucky in finding true love?
“The match between Zach Meier and Deirdre will eventually work out. I felt the thin breeze between them.” Bellamy tried to infuse his statement with a determination he wasn’t yet feeling inside.
A thin breeze was usually one close to the ground that most people missed but that signified a change in weather. The same was true in relationships. Other people might miss the thin breeze—the slight changes in a relationship—but not the matchmaker.
“Thin breeze or no, you still have to be seen as responsible.” Oscar leafed through his ledger, scanning each page as he did so. “And there’s no better way to be learning about love than to experience it for yourself.”
Zaira had reached the door and started to open it.
“Stop right there, young lady.” Oscar didn’t look up.
Bellamy hadn’t been sure if Oscar had even noticed her presence. But the old matchmaker was obviously still as keen as he’d always been—one of the traits Bellamy had inherited.
Zaira paused.
“I hear Bellamy’s in love with you.”
“That’s not true!” Bellamy’s denial came out too forcefully, and once spoken, he wished he could pull it back and say it again more casually.
As it was, Oscar paused in perusing his ledger and raised a brow at Bellamy.
“Oh aye, it’s the truth.” Georgie picked up one of the bowls of stew still sitting on Jenny’s platter. “We all saw the way he just kissed Zaira Shanahan.”
Zaira lifted her chin and met Oscar’s gaze bravely, as though she intended to take full responsibility for all that had happened between them.
“It wasn’t really a kiss,” Bellamy said, trying to figure out a way to save Zaira from being drawn into the situation. “And it didn’t mean anything.”
“Whoo-ee!” Georgie called out again almost gleefully. “If that wasn’t a kiss, I don’t know what is.”
Several of the other men chortled and made comments under their breath about how it was definitely a kiss.
Oscar already had the mistaken impression that Bellamy liked Zaira—or at least was attracted to her. No doubt, now after discovering they’d kissed, he would start planning a wedding right away.
Bellamy needed to set Oscar straight. “I’ll not be marrying Zaira. So don’t even say it.”
Her narrowed eyes shot to Bellamy. “Bellamy McKenna, you’re arrogant for thinking I would marry you. Because the fact is, I wouldn’t consider it, not even if you were the last man standing in St. Louis.”
Her voice was filled with a derision that took him off guard. He wasn’t used to women disliking him. Before he could think of a response, she flung open the door the rest of the way, stepped out, and then slammed it shut behind her.
With the echo reverberating in the silence, Georgie tried for a whistle through his toothlessness. “You blew that, Bellamy.”
He shrugged. “I’m not getting married, especially not to her.”
Oscar was quiet, staring at the closed door. All eyes swung to him. Everyone was waiting for his final say about the kiss with Zaira. As if that mattered.
Bellamy started toward the bar counter, suddenly needing to get away from the scrutiny and the gossip and the pressure. As he moved past Georgie and rounded the counter, he could see in the large mirror behind the bar that Oscar was watching him now.
“Fine.” Oscar’s voice boomed through the pub. “If not her, then you’ll have to choose someone.”
“We’ll see about that, won’t we now?” Bellamy halted beside Jenny, avoiding her gaze, which was full of a hundred questions.
Oscar had already told him the Shanahans would be looking for a match for Zaira soon and that James Shanahan would want his youngest daughter to have a profitable match with someone in her social class, especially since her brother Kiernan had recently married a poor housemaid.
It didn’t matter to Bellamy. He wasn’t considering Zaira or anyone. And Oscar would learn that soon enough, because no matter how stubborn Oscar was, Bellamy was more stubborn. No matter how savvy Oscar still was in finding matches, Bellamy was equally as savvy and would find a way to outwit him.
He held Oscar’s gaze in the mirror for another moment. The glint in Oscar’s dark eyes said that he intended to win the coming battle.
Bellamy forced a grin in return, one he hoped conveyed that he also planned to win. In fact, he had no intention of losing. He’d rather stay single than doom himself—and more importantly doom his future wife—to a lifetime with an unhappy marriage.
The door of the pub swung back open, and Bellamy couldn’t stop himself from anticipating Zaira’s return to sling another comment at him.
The breathless, sweating person that stumbled through the door wasn’t Zaira. He was Mr. Boland, the watchmaker from the corner shop down the street. Had he run all the way to the pub?
“Oscar!” the spindly man called as he bent over and gasped for air. “I’m here to be the first to offer my daughter in marriage to Bellamy.”
Before Mr. Boland could catch his breath, a second man bumped into him from behind, Mr. Flemming, who owned two boardinghouses in the Kerry Patch as well as several rental homes.
A burly fellow with a severe expression, he lifted his flatcap from his head and scowled at Mr. Boland.
“I would have been the first if you hadn’t pushed that cart in my way. ”
Folding his hands on his protruding belly, Oscar reclined in his chair, a grin settling over his countenance. “Come on in. I’m ready to start the meetings.” As Oscar spoke the words, he looked directly at Bellamy. “Let’s find my son a match.”