If Bellamy didn’t come soon, maybe she would return tothe stable where she’d tied the horse and find a dark corner to hide in.
The night sky was hazy, as it often was in the city with so much coal dust from the factories and steamboats. Even so, the air was fresher after the recent rain, the stench of sewage and garbage not as nauseating as she usually found it.
If only she were in Tralee, standing on the beach, listening to the waves. As she waited for the usual stab of homesickness in her chest, it didn’t come. If anything, there was only a dull ache.
Was that what time away did? Or was she less homesick because of something—someone—else? The truth was, with each passing day, she longed less for her homeland and more for Kiernan. It was almost as if he had become her new home, that she was content as long as she could be near him.
She knew it couldn’t be that way, that she had to resist those feelings—for his sake. Even so, she wished he were right beside her with his strong and steady presence. He would know what to do and how to get her out of the danger with Shaw. Not that she couldn’t figure it out for herself, because she could. And Zaira was helping, so she wasn’t alone.
It’s just that Kiernan understood her like no one else ever had.
She pressed a hand to her pocket and the outline of the book he’d given her. Her heart swelled with an aching need for him. She could only pray again that he’d remained safe and that Torin had too.
The back door of the pub swung open, and Bellamy stepped outside. He held several bottles in each hand and carried them to a crate next to the rubbish bin. He depositedthem, then stretched and started to cross the alley toward the shed.
She didn’t realize she’d been holding her breath until he neared the shed door. Should she make her presence known yet?
He opened the shed, then stepped inside, leaving the door open a crack.
Without waiting for an invitation, Alannah pushed up and glanced down the alley both ways. Seeing no one, she sidled along the shed wall until she reached the door. As she slipped through into the dark interior, Bellamy was beside her in an instant and closing the door.
“What happened?” His voice was more anxious than she’d ever heard it before.
“The Farrell gang attacked the brickyard.”
“Ach, tell me it isn’t so.”
“’Tis so, and I’m sorry it is.”
He muttered through the clanking as he locked the door. A moment later, the striking of a match was followed by a small flame. He worked quickly to light a lantern and then turned to her.
“Kiernan rode out to the brickyard,” she whispered. “And so did Mr. Shanahan.”
Bellamy’s brows were furrowed above his dark eyes. “And then someone from the gang tried to kidnap you?”
“Oh aye, Shaw himself.”
“The devil.”
“Zaira took my horse and cloak and rode out toward the brickyard, pretending to be me. And she sent me to town.”
Bellamy released an exasperated breath. “That girl. She’ll be the death of me yet.”
Alannah could understand Bellamy’s frustration with Zaira’s recklessness because it mirrored her own. “She told me to find you and stay in your studio.”
“Did she now?”
Alannah still didn’t understand what Zaira had meant bystudio, but from the crease in Bellamy’s forehead, he obviously wasn’t pleased with the pretty redhead.
“I’m sorry to impose, Bellamy.” Alannah glanced around the shed for the first time. It was filled with shelves of supplies, casks of beer, and crates of other liquor. She wasn’t sure what astudiolooked like or what it was for, but the shed didn’t appear any different than other storage units she’d been in. “Can I stay here until the morning?”
“You can come inside and upstairs to our living quarters.”
“I’ll not be putting anyone else in danger more than I already have.”
He started to protest again, but then his jaw ticked. “Zaira. She’s in danger, isn’t she?”
Alannah tried to swallow the lump of fear that had lodged in her throat ever since Zaira had ridden away.
