He blew out a taut breath.
“Is something amiss?” She lobbed the question back at him, smiling at the same time so he would know she was teasing.
He was swinging the carriage door open. As he stretched one foot out onto the carriage step, he glanced at her again, and his brows rose.
She supposed for a servant, the bantering was out of line. But after talking casually with him about her family and past, it was all too easy to let down her guard.
Mrs. Christy had warned her against being overly friendly with the family, encouraging her never to forget that even when the boundaries of class seemed to come down, they were still there. The housekeeper had indicated that the crossing of boundaries was the primary cause of being let go from a domestic position.
Alannah couldn’t lose her job today, not now that she was here in the countryside. She wanted—no, needed—to stay. She had no other prospects. This was her best option.
Her smile vanished. “I’m sorry, so I am, Mr. Shanahan. I shouldn’t have been teasing you.”
He gave a slight shrug. “You took me by surprise, and not many people do.”
He finished descending, then held a hand toward her to assist her down as if she were a grand lady wearing a fancy gown. She needed to politely decline and climb out for herself without pretending to be someone special.
But he grasped her hand before she could tuck it away. As his fingers encircled hers, the same tingles she’d felt earlier raced along her nerve endings. This time she kept her gaze averted, not wanting to encourage whatever attraction was between them.
She climbed out of the carriage, and as her feet touched the ground, the front door opened and Mrs. Shanahan stepped onto the veranda. A petite woman with brown hair, she had delicate, pretty features that had aged well, making her appear younger than her middle age.
For as delicate as Mrs. Shanahan might look, she was the complete opposite in temperament. During Alannah’s last visit to Oakland, she’d learned the matron ran a strict home. While she was stern and exacting, it had also become clear that she loved her family fiercely and had an inner strength that was the backbone of the family.
“Kiernan.” Mrs. Shanahan crossed to the top step into the sunshine. “Is something wrong? Whyever are you home in the middle of the morn?”
“Everything’s fine.” Kiernan turned to face his mam, still holding Alannah’s hand. “I’ve brought you a new maid to work at Oakland.”
Mrs. Shanahan shielded her eyes with a hand as her attention went directly to Alannah’s hand within Kiernan’s. In the next instant, a frown puckered her forehead.
Not wanting to earn the matron’s disapproval, Alannah tugged her hand free.
“You remember Alannah, don’t you, Mam?” He stuffed his hands into his pockets. “She was here with Enya last month.”
Mrs. Shanahan descended two more steps. “Who is saying I need another maid?”
“I’m saying so. I’ll be staying at Oakland the rest of the summer to oversee the brickyard. As a result, I’m hiring an extra hand.”
“We’ve plenty of help and need no more.”
A flush worked its way up Alannah’s face. Mercy. ’Twas obvious Kiernan hadn’t consulted his mam before bringing her out. ’Twas also obvious the woman didn’t want another maid.
“Last time I was here you said that you had to leave a couple of servants in the city for Riley and Finola, and now you’re short of staff.”
“Aye, a butler, not a maid.”
“Help is help.” Kiernan turned and took Alannah’s bag from the coachman. Kiernan’s shoulder slumped momentarily under the weight, as he was clearly unprepared for the heaviness of her bag containing her collection of books.
She grasped one of the handles. “I’ll carry it.”
He straightened himself. “Did you pack bricks?”
“No, ’tis my books, so it is.” Her collection wasn’t large—only a dozen or so. But she loved each precious volume she owned and had carried them with her across the ocean, no matter how heavy they’d made her luggage.
Breaking free of her grasp on the bag, he trotted up the steps. As he reached his mother, he paused. “Alannah will be staying here, Mam.”
Mrs. Shanahan shook her head. “That’s not a good idea—”
“I’ve already made up my mind.” Though his tone was respectful, it was firm. “She is in danger and needs a safe place to hide and work.”
