“They fall in love, but the love ends up being a disaster, so it does.”
She tried to take in what he was saying so she could respond thoughtfully. “I’m sure matchmakers aren’t the only ones whose marriages start out with luster but then fall into disrepair.”
“But the matchmakers’ marriagesalwaysfail.”
“So you want yours to be different?”
“Aye.”
She could admire his desire to have a good marriage. That was noble of him, since some men didn’t consider whether a marriage was good or bad, only that it was ordained by God and for the procreation of children. On the other hand, he couldn’t let fear stop him from getting married. “Did you ever consider that unlucky streaks are always made to be broken?”
“It hasn’t been broken yet.”
“Maybe we can’t sit back and wait for luck to decide the future of our marriages. Maybe we have to decide the future of our relationships ourselves.”
“Sounds like something Oscar would say.”
“Or you.”
He shrugged. “The matchmakers have advice on relationships for everyone else, but they can never make the advice work for themselves.”
“I think I’ve also heard Oscar say that happiness in a marriage doesn’t happen by chance, that happiness is a matter of choice.”
“He didn’t choose it, that’s for certain.” The bitterness in Bellamy’s tone took her by surprise.
She knew Bellamy’s mam had died before the McKennas immigrated, but he hadn’t spoken much about her, even last night during their conversations about their families. “You may not want to talk about this, Bellamy. But if you’ve a notion to, I’d like to hear about your mam and Oscar.”
Bellamy hesitated, then shifted, as though he was leaning against a wall. “My mam told me that Oscar was her knight in shining armor, that he rescued her from a terrible home and took her away so they could have their fairy-tale life.”
She smiled. “It’s hard to picture Oscar as a knight in shining armor.”
“He always loved thecraic, the grand times, the late nights.”
“Now, that doesn’t surprise me because he still does.”
“Oh, aye. If there’s a party to be had, Oscar Fingal McKenna is sure to be present.”
“Your mam was the same?”
“If truth be told, she liked the craic more than Oscar.”
“Then they must have made quite the pair.”
“Everyone said they were a perfect love match, and never did a fellow adore a woman as Oscar adored her.” Bellamy’s tone suddenly turned sad.
“What went wrong?”
“She loved to paint and would spend hours and hours at it. And he never supported her in it, even tried to get her to quit.”
“Oh, that’s terrible.” Zaira knew that was a possibility with her writing, that her future husband might not support it, especially once she had children and was busy with her family. “I’m sure it’s difficult for any mother to find the balance between her family and what she loves doing.”
“I admit, Mam wasn’t always good with that balance. She was gone a lot—gaining inspiration for the painting, or so she’d said. And when she was home, she spent nearly all her time painting.”
“Then you painted to be with her?”
“Aye. ’Twas the only time she noticed me.” His admission was soft. “In my childish mind, I thought that if I was good enough at painting, maybe she’d want to be with me more.”
“So you tried harder?”
