The salt sprinkling was another Irish tradition, one that claimed if a woman put salt on her bed, then in her first hour of sleep she would see the man she would marry—orat least glimpse his hair color and the clothes he would wear on their wedding day.
There were other such customs, like putting a piece of somebody else’s wedding cake under a pillow to make a woman dream about the man she would marry. Or dropping hair and nail clippings into a fire to create a dream about the future spouse.
Zaira had always had fun with the traditions with her friends. But theWin the apple peeling didn’t stand forWilliam Bellamy McKenna. Their relationship was only a farce. He didn’t like her. And she could tell he was still angry with her for all her lying because he’d only spoken to her about the children since he’d arrived, and he’d hardly looked her way.
Dottie made eyes at one of the young men standing near Bellamy and then giggled. “I’m considering having a love potion made to help me find my true love.”
Was there such a thing as true love?
Zaira wanted to believe that was possible—had always believed she’d eventually find a man who loved her passionately and whom she loved passionately in return. But what if she never found a man who could love her for who she really was? A man who knew about her secrets and flaws and still accepted her and loved her regardless? Maybe such a man only existed in fiction.
After all, she had to pretend to be someone else in order to keep her mam and dad happy with her. They had such traditional views of what a woman should be like that they would never understand she wanted more—needed more, needed freedom, needed to create. Why would that change in a husband?
Regardless, she was here now, and she had to make the bestof the situation—her fake engagement to her fake fiancé. She felt terrible that her mam had gone to so much trouble for the party.
Zaira had tried to object to such a big celebration, had even suggested waiting because of the cholera in hopes of deterring Mam’s plans. But Mam had pushed forward anyway, stating that they were all safe in the countryside, that she missed the gatherings with her friends, and that eating the gander would be the perfect occasion to have company.
Da and Kiernan had also decided it would be a way to show the community that the Shanahans weren’t cowering away after Kiernan’s marriage to Alannah and that the past was behind them.
Emilie nudged her arm and leaned in. “Look who’s coming our way.”
Bellamy was crossing toward them, and Emilie was boldly staring at him as though he was a dessert she wanted to gobble up.
Strange prickles formed inside Zaira. Emilie shouldn’t be looking at her fake fiancé that way. Her friend didn’t know the relationship wasn’t real. And it was rude to make eyes at a man who was taken.
It didn’t matter that Zaira understood her friend’s attraction to Bellamy. His freshly shaven face showed off his angular jaw and high cheekbones. His dark hair was parted neatly on one side and slicked back. And his eyes were just as dark and almost brooding tonight, as if he wasn’t happy with the party.
Well, the party wasn’t her fault, if that’s what he was thinking. She wasn’t happy about it either. But she would try to enjoy the evening. After all, she never wasted a single moment of anything that happened in her life. It was allfuel to ignite her writing inspiration. Surely some day she could write all about the fake engagement party in one of her novels.
As he neared, the conversations from the clusters of women around her tapered to silence. Everyone was watching her and Bellamy. Everyone wanted to see them interact. And everyone would be judging their relationship.
She couldn’t give people anything more to gossip about. Instead, she had to pretend she was interested in Bellamy and make the guests believe the match was a good one. That’s what her parents would expect of her tonight, and she couldn’t let them down or disappoint them, especially so publicly.
No, she had to use her best acting skills with Bellamy and put on a show.
She curved her lips into what she hoped was a welcoming smile.
As he stopped, he didn’t smile in return.
“I’ve been wondering when I would get to spend some time with you.” She widened her smile and made sure to sound cheerful.
Bellamy held out his elbow. “I’ve been told it’s time for us to take our spot together at the table so the meal can begin.”
She slipped her hand into the crook of his arm and allowed him to guide her toward the center table. As they moved out of hearing range from the other guests, she leaned in and whispered, “You’ve made it clear you detest me. But remember, you have to at least pretend to like me.”
He leaned in toward her ear. “I don’t detest you.”
“You could have fooled me and everyone else here.”
“I’m sorry, so I am.” His arm brushed against her shoulder. “I just wish we could have avoided all of this.”
“Me too.” She sighed. “But since we’re here, we have to at least be cordial to each other, or people will start to wonder what’s going on.”
“Rightly so.” He released a tense breath too. “I’ll try to be doing better.”
“We can at least be friends, Bellamy. That’s not too hard, is it?”
He hesitated.
