Chapter 22 #2
“You told me I wasn’t the woman for you. So what else would a marriage to me be?”
He’d been a fool, that’s what. He’d been fighting his attraction to her after kissing her because deep down he’d known he was falling harder for her. And he’d tried to put something between them to keep himself from reaching for her and promising her forever.
“No,” Zaira said more adamantly. “I refuse to marry a man who is only doing so because he has no other choice. When I get married, I want to marry someone who is doing so because I’m his first choice.”
“You are his first choice.” Kiernan pinned Bellamy with a look that told him he’d better agree. “Like I said, everyone can see that you belong together.”
“Everyone?” She released a scoffing laugh.
“Ach, Zaira.” Bellamy tried to push up from the mattress, but his body ached too much to cooperate. “We’ll get married, and we’ll make the best of it, so we will.”
“Make the best of it?”
His proposal was likely the most unromantic ever spoken, and he wanted to slap himself in the head once the words were out, especially when her lips pinched into a thin, straight line.
He needed to say something else, something sweet, something worthy of the romance she loved so much.
But his brain was hazy and wasn’t working as quickly as it normally did.
“I’ve made up my mind.” Zaira situated the bedside chair against the wall. “I’m not getting married. Instead, I’d like to focus on my writing for a while.”
Her writing? Had she told her da and Kiernan about her newspaper column? If so, why?
“No, Zaira.” Mr. Shanahan crossed his arms and pinned her with a severe look. “It’s time to put that nonsense behind you.”
“Nonsense?” Her voice rose in pitch.
Was Mr. Shanahan calling Zaira’s writing nonsense? If so, that was very insensitive.
“Aye. You’re a grown woman, and it’s time to put childish ways behind you.”
Bellamy’s muscles were tightening more with each word the man spoke.
“Zaira’s writing isn’t nonsense or childish.
She has great talent, and readers love her stories.
” He hoped she knew he was referring to the question she’d asked him last night about her story but that he hadn’t made time to answer.
All three turned to look at him again. He wished he could sit up and present himself as capable, calm, and confident as always. But he could hardly move without a wave of dizziness hitting him.
Kiernan raised a brow at him. “So, you’ve known about her writing for the newspaper?”
“Naturally.”
“And that’s why you don’t want to marry her.” Kiernan’s question came out a statement.
“The opposite. I believe she has the right to keep writing and deserves a husband who will support it.” He caught Zaira’s gaze, hoping she would understand how sincere he was, hoping she would realize he’d never be unsupportive like Oscar was to his mam.
Zaira regarded him warily.
Kiernan waved a dismissive hand. “All the more reason for the two of you to get married, since you’ll support Zaira’s writing.”
Zaira spun and began to cross the room. “It isn’t enough reason for us to get married, and I won’t do it.”
“Oh aye, lass.” Mr. Shanahan’s face was turning red. “You’ll be doing it today when the priest arrives, and that’s all there is to it.”
Zaira didn’t stop until she reached the door. Then she gave her da a sad but resigned look. “I’ve never wanted to cause problems when you already had so many. I always wanted to please you. But why was I trying so hard to make you happy when you obviously haven’t cared about my happiness?”
With that, she stepped into the hallway and shut the door behind her.
Mr. Shanahan opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out.
Exhaustion fell over Bellamy, and he couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer.
Even though his mind was fuzzy, one thing was becoming all too clear: The more Zaira pushed him away, the more he wanted her.
Of course, as a matchmaker he knew the heart-wants-what-it-cannot-have was one tactic for bringing a couple together.
Was that what he was experiencing with Zaira?
Or was it another tactic? Resistance changing into fear-of-losing-the-loved-one?
Maybe it was both.
Maybe it was also the realization that she’d told the truth about everything.
She’d been honest about their relationship.
She’d been honest about her writing for the newspaper.
She’d been honest about her objection to a hasty marriage.
She’d even admitted to a publishing venture even though she had so much to lose, especially the respect of her family.
Admiration welled up inside him. Zaira had displayed an enormous amount of courage to speak the truth.
What about him? What had he done to display even a wee amount of courage?
Nothing. He’d lectured Zaira about the need for honesty, and he’d disparaged having a relationship with her because of the lack of honesty. In doing so, all he’d accomplished was showing himself to be nothing but a hypocrite.
If he really wanted to have a different marriage than Oscar and his granda and all his ancestors, then maybe he had to be willing to change himself instead of trying to change Zaira.