“Oh, there’s always a right price.” Shaw cocked his head at Alannah. “I want to marry your sister. That’s the only payment I’ll accept.”
“No!” Torin thundered.
Shaw’s lips had curled up into a grin. “Give her to me, or you’re a dead man.”
Torin had spewed more curses as Shaw and his men left. Once they were gone, Torin had asked his boss for help in hiding Alannah. Much to their surprise, Kiernan had made arrangements for her to work as a maid for his sister Enya, Mrs. O’Brien. Alannah had come to the O’Briens the next day, and she’d been in hiding there ever since.
She wanted no part of Shaw’s plan, not only because she wanted to protect herself but because if she fell into Shaw’s clutches, it would kill Torin.
With her heart pounding out a fresh urgency, she studied the parlor again, her gaze snagging upon the draperies. Could she hide within the folds? They were thick enough that if anyone glanced into the room—and didn’t look too closely—she might be able to remain undetected.
Another breeze rushed in the window and fluttered the elegant material.
The window. Maybe she ought to sneak out the side window. Then she could race around the back and hide in the carriage house. Mr. Dunlop would surely do his best to keep her safe.
“I’m sorry,” Mrs. Christy said, “but I cannot allow Alannah to be away from her duties for even a moment.”
Alannah started across the room toward the window. The kindly housekeeper was buying her time, and Alannah couldn’t squander it.
“Her brother sent me.”
Alannah halted midstride beside the piano. If Torin had sent this fellow, he’d be safe. Maybe he’d even relay news of another employment opportunity.
“I’m Bellamy McKenna. My da is Oscar McKenna, the matchmaker.”
Bellamy McKenna? She hadn’t met him before, but she’d heard about him through Mrs. O’Brien. As the next in line to take over for his da’s matchmaker role, Bellamy had recently started forming matches. He’d brought together Captain and Mrs. O’Brien’s earlier in the year. Alannah had never seen a couple as in love as those two.
Apparently, Bellamy had also found a lovely match for Mrs. O’Brien’s older sister, Finola, and Riley Rafferty. Soon Bellamy would be tasked—if he wasn’t already—with finding Kiernan a match. Not that Kiernan needed a matchmaker. His auburn hair and dark blue eyes were fetching, to be sure. With his chiseled features, brawny build, and the dimple in his chin...
Alannah stifled a dreamy sigh. He was the most perfectly handsome man she’d ever laid her eyes on, so he was.
In addition, he was kind and fair and decent. He paid his employees well, and he also took an interest in them beyond just their work for him. When one of the men feared he’d lose his apartment and his family would be homeless, Kiernan had found him a place in one of the Shanahan tenements. When another fellow had been sliced by glass at the factory and required stitches, Kiernan had paid the doctor’s fee.
When Torin had needed help, Kiernan hadn’t hesitated. He’d not only found her the maid position, but he’d stopped by on occasion to check on her. Even the night of the fire a couple of weeks ago when he’d raced into the neighborhood to see how his sister was faring, he sought her out and made sure she was safe.
Kiernan Shanahan would make some lucky lass a good husband. And Bellamy’s job of finding that lucky lass would be easy.
“I know who you are, Bellamy McKenna,” Mrs. Christy said, her tone still unyielding. “If you give me your message, I’ll pass it along to Alannah.”
Alannah straightened and resituated her lacy maid’s cap.There was no harm in meeting with Bellamy for a few moments, especially if he had news from Torin.
She crossed to the door, her leather half boots tapping a hard rhythm, even against the plush rug. She exited into the entryway painted a fresh bright cream and that contained more of the same pretty blue accents as the parlor.
Bellamy, standing in the doorway and holding his tweed flat cap, shifted his attention to her. With swarthy skin, dark hair, and dark brown eyes, he was much more good-looking than she’d pictured. Even attired in simple, worn garb—wool trousers, white shirt, with a vest and coat—he had an enigmatic and charming aura about him.
“Top of the morn to you, Alannah.” He was taking her in too—not lustfully but in a more calculated way, as if he was intending to find a match for her, which was a silly notion altogether.
Torin wouldn’t do that without asking her first, would he? For that matter, how did Bellamy know she was Alannah and not some other maid?
Mrs. Christy’s sweetly rounded face was wreathed with concern. Twenty if not thirty years older than Alannah, the housekeeper had wispy, grayish hair in a loose topknot and brown aging spots on her cheeks and nose. She wore the same style of dark frock and white apron as Alannah, with a similar starched white collar and cuffs.
She planted her hands on her ample hips and frowned at Bellamy. “I’m doing my best to send the fellow on his way.”
“’Tis alright, Mrs. Christy.” Alannah gave the woman what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “I’ll meet with him.”
Bellamy didn’t wait for Mrs. Christy to agree. He stepped into the hallway and closed the front door behind him.
“You’re sure?” Mrs. Christy raised her brows, clearly not understanding why Alannah would visit with a fellow after the past weeks of shunning all interactions.
