“But,” Jenny continued, “we’ll not be turning down the help if you’ve a mind to offer it.”
“I’ve a mind.” Seamus spoke seriously, as though a miniature man lived inside his body.
Zaira’s nose scrunched up with the beginning of more protest. Obviously, she didn’t know what it was like to be poor and to also try to cling to one’s honor. Sometimes honor was the only thing the poor had left, and if Seamus felt better working for his keep, then they needed to let him.
Bellamy crossed to Jenny and held out Moya.
Jenny hesitated for only a heartbeat, then gathered the little girl in her arms. Moya didn’t resist Jenny and instead leaned into her.
“I’ll be back shortly.” Bellamy crossed toward the door. “After I take Zaira home.”
Zaira said her good-byes to the children and promised she’d check in on them from time to time when she could. But she didn’t linger much longer. He guessed she was needing to get back home before anyone realized she was gone and came looking for her.
When she’d shown up at the pub in the early afternoon inquiring if he was ready to go search, he’d already been making plans to head to the river and check among the camps. He should have told her to stay back at the pub.
But when it came to Zaira, he couldn’t say no very easily. Not only was she persuasive in getting what she wanted, but he found himself giving in to her whims so he could make her happy.
When they exited the kitchen, she stopped him with a touch to his arm, which always turned up the degree of heat in his body more than he wanted to admit.
“I walked over here by myself, Bellamy, and I’ll be just fine going home alone.”
“I’ll accompany you.” He broke away from her light hold and started toward the horses. “I’m sure your da will be expecting me to escort you home.”
She didn’t say anything and didn’t move from the shade of the building. Even flushed and damp with perspiration, she was prettier than any woman he’d ever met.
When he reached his horse and gathered the reins, he glanced back at her with a raised brow. He was putting her in an awkward situation where she would have to explain that she’d gone behind her da’s back this afternoon. But Bellamy wanted her to know that he knew the truth.
She met his gaze, a glimmer of guilt in her eyes. “He doesn’t know I’m with you.”
“Is that a fact?” He’d left the horses near the watering trough, and now they swished their tails and flicked their ears to ward off flies. “So he won’t be happy to see me, then?”
“Bell-amy,” she softly chided.
He liked the way she said his name, although he wasn’t sure why. “I’ll still ride with you home.”
“I don’t mind the walk.”
“And I don’t mind the ride.”
She sighed with exasperation. “The truth is, Da doesn’t even know I left the house, and I’ll need to sneak back up the trellis.”
Bellamy stuck his foot in the stirrup and hauled himself into the saddle before giving her a pointed look. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
She was watching him, her head cocked. “What wasn’t hard?”
“Telling me the truth.”
She flushed even more and ducked her head.
“Seems to me you’re not only a grand actor, but you’re the expert at lying.”
Her head snapped up, and her eyes suddenly blazed. “How dare you!”
“How dare I confront you about all your lying?”
“That’s swell coming from someone who’s an expert at it too.”
Was he an expert at it too? He hadn’t considered himself a liar. But he supposed it looked like that to her since he had a pseudonym for his painting and had just agreed to be in a fake match with her. Both were big deceptions.
