Chapter 22
A strange desperation raced through Bellamy. “You’re sure she’s unharmed?” he asked the doctor again.
The silver-haired man was packing the leather satchel beside him. “I didn’t personally examine her, but she claimed to be fine.”
Bellamy pushed up with his uninjured arm, making it to his elbow.
“Careful now.” The doctor eased Bellamy back to the hallway floor of the bank basement. “We’re getting ready to transport you soon.”
Bellamy tried to sit up even more. He needed to find Zaira to see if she was okay. But as soon as he elevated himself again, both pain and dizziness slammed into him so that he felt he might be sick to his stomach.
“Bellamy?” Her voice echoed from a distance.
He shifted to watch her slip through the outer door and start running toward him, her hair unbound and flowing about her in long, flaming waves.
As she drew nearer, the doctor stood and moved aside. The lantern light fell over Zaira, highlighting her beauty—the delicate lines in her face, her wide eyes, the elegant curves of her body. She had such a determined stride, such a confident way of holding herself, such a spark of life.
He loved every part of her, and he suddenly wanted to pull out a blank canvas and spend the day painting her.
He had the feeling that even if he painted her portrait every day for the rest of her life, he still wouldn’t be able to capture everything about her.
She was an endless source of beauty and inspiration.
In the next instant, she was kneeling beside him. “How are you feeling?” She grasped his hand and held it tightly.
“I’ll survive.” He tried to assess her, but she was leaning over him and had cupped one of his cheeks.
Her face hovered above his, her eyes worried. “Are you in a great deal of pain?”
He shook his head. Even though the doctor had given him some laudanum, his shoulder still throbbed. But that didn’t matter. All he cared about was that she was unharmed. “Did he hurt you?” He managed to get the question out even though each word felt heavy.
“I’ll survive.” Her words were soft and teasing and followed by a slow smile, one he wanted to kiss.
If only he had the strength to do so. But he was weaker than he’d realized, and his head thudded back to the floor and his lashes fell closed again.
Oh aye, he loved every part of her. Every single part.
He didn’t know why he’d resisted her for so long, why he’d been opposed to having a relationship with her, why he’d fought against his feelings for her.
Why had he, when all he wanted to do was pull her into his arms and have her for the rest of his life?
Somewhere in his jumble of thoughts, he knew there was a reason why they couldn’t be together, why he’d worked so hard to keep his distance from her. But he couldn’t think of one thing about her he didn’t like.
The truth was so obvious. He loved her, and he couldn’t imagine ever loving any other woman the way he did her.
“Bellamy,” came the stern voice of James Shanahan from behind Zaira.
Bellamy pried open his eyes to find Zaira’s worried face still above his.
“Bellamy, son,” Mr. Shanahan called again.
Bellamy tried to find the red-haired man, but his vision blurred, and his consciousness began to fade.
“Prepare yourself for a wedding.” Mr. Shanahan spoke loudly. “You’ll be marrying Zaira just as soon as it can be arranged.”
He thought he heard Zaira’s protest, but blackness claimed him, taking him to a land where there was nothing but emptiness.
Bellamy stirred, and as he did so, he could feel the firmness of a mattress beneath him. The silkiness of sheets surrounded him, and a feather-stuffed pillow cushioned his head. The quality was too fine to belong to his family, which meant only one thing. He was at the Shanahans’.
“I’m sorry for deceiving you both.” Zaira’s voice came from beside him, and he guessed she was sitting in a bedside chair. A decidedly feminine scent wafted in the air and in the linens, and he guessed he was probably in Zaira’s room.
“Your apology won’t fix the mistake.” Kiernan’s voice dropped low and was edged with frustration.
“But we can put an end to that right now.” The harshly spoken statement came from James Shanahan.
Bellamy tried to pry open an eye, but he felt groggy and his body heavy.
“Da, please,” Zaira responded. “Try to understand—”
“No, you need to understand,” Mr. Shanahan spoke forcefully. “This sort of behavior is inappropriate for a young woman, and you’ll be stopping this immediately.”
What was Mr. Shanahan referring to? Were they discussing the inappropriateness of two young unmarried people staying the night together? Surely the two knew by now that he and Zaira hadn’t done so intentionally and that their time together had been innocent—except for one long and excellent kiss.
Obviously no one knew about the kiss, and even if Mr. Shanahan or Kiernan had discovered it, how could they condemn one kiss? Especially because he and Zaira were engaged?
“What if I don’t want to stop?” Zaira’s question held a note of boldness that Bellamy hadn’t heard her use with her da before. What was she saying, that she didn’t want to stop being with him? Was she growing to care about him too?
His mind spun back to the few minutes of being with her in the hallway before he lost consciousness again. What had her da said?
“As soon as you’re married,” Mr. Shanahan continued, “you’ll understand the need to focus on your husband and home.”
Zaira released an audible sigh. “That’s why I want to wait.”
“When is the priest coming?” Mr. Shanahan asked impatiently.
“Any moment,” Kiernan answered.
“He should be here by now.”
“We also need to wait for Bellamy to awaken.”
He tried to stir to let them know he was gaining consciousness, but he couldn’t get his eyelids to lift or his lips to open.
He suspected the doctor might have given him more pain medicine for the ride to the Shanahan mansion, and that now he was too weak and tired to participate in the conversation.
“Da, Kiernan.” Zaira spoke again, the boldness still in her tone. “It doesn’t matter if the priest comes or not. I’m not marrying Bellamy.”
“You have no choice.” Mr. Shanahan’s statement was curt.
She was silent for several long heartbeats. “Our relationship is only pretend.”
“Pretend?”
“Aye, ask Kiernan. He knows that Bellamy and I agreed be together for a short while to help each other out, and that we never intended to go through with the marriage.”
A strange protest welled up inside Bellamy. She was right. Even last night, he’d pushed her away after their kiss when she’d been questioning what their relationship meant. He hadn’t wanted to explore what might develop between them, hadn’t given a future with her any consideration.
Oh aye, his family had a terrible history with relationships. And he’d always been scared of repeating the same mistakes. But in attempting to avoid the mistakes and searching for a perfect match, was he making things even worse?
No man or woman was ever perfect. He wouldn’t be a good matchmaker if he didn’t acknowledge that fact.
Zaira’s accusation pressed at his consciousness. “Maybe a perfect match has to do with how well a couple displays humility and perseverance and the willingness to forgive.”
Was she right? If a husband and wife were so busy looking for perfection from one another, would they overlook the need for humility, perseverance, and a willingness to forgive? Those attributes that would really make a difference in having a happy and lasting marriage?
“What’s all this about a pretend relationship?” Mr. Shanahan asked.
Kiernan cleared his throat. “It was a way to protect Zaira after her first kiss with Bellamy.”
“And?”
“I assumed once they were together, they would soon realize they’re already in love with each other.”
“We’re not in love.” Zaira’s response was quick and angry. “We don’t even like each other.”
Kiernan snorted. “Everyone could see at the eating-the-gander party that you’re both crazy about each other.”
“We drive each other crazy, but that’s all.”
“It doesn’t matter now,” Kiernan continued. “After you spent last night together, there will be no breaking off your relationship now.”
“Oh aye, I’ll be breaking it off.” Zaira’s chair bumped against the bedside table as she rose.
Bellamy blinked, finally opening his eyes to morning sunshine pouring in through an open window.
She was facing her da and brother, who were both standing just inside the door of a room that was definitely Zaira’s.
With white furniture and yellow everywhere, it was feminine and bright and whimsical, just like Zaira.
Kiernan was scowling at her. “You’ll marry him, and that’s all there is to it.”
Her back stiffened. “Bellamy will never agree to it either.”
He wanted to tell her she was wrong, but the words stuck inside him. Was he really ready to throw away all the caution he’d previously used and jump into a marriage with Zaira? He didn’t want to go from one extreme to the other, using restraint to using none at all.
“Bellamy won’t have a choice,” Kiernan said. “He’ll understand that your reputation is severely compromised, and he’ll do the right thing.”
“Aye,” Bellamy managed to croak. “So I will.”
Zaira spun and nearly tripped over her chair in her haste. Kiernan and Mr. Shanahan both straightened and riveted their gazes upon him, their eyes filled with accusation.
“I won’t need convincing to do the right thing.” This time Bellamy’s voice came out stronger. Although he felt weak, the doctor had assured him the wound would heal and that he’d be fine within a week or two. In the meantime, he would have to rest since he’d lost so much blood.
Mr. Shanahan nodded curtly. “I knew Bellamy was a man of honor.”
Zaira narrowed her eyes on Bellamy as though she was thinking of everything they’d talked about after their kiss. “I refuse to trap a man into marriage so he can save my honor.”
“You won’t be trapping me—”