Bellamy wasn’t naïve to think that even with growth of character that he’d avoid problems. But he and Zaira didn’t have to make the same mistakes as their parents. They would be starting a new life, and they could build it on the foundation of all those godly qualities that made a person stronger and better.
Aye, he and Zaira could do that. He wanted to do that. As soon as possible. Now. He glanced at the door. Was it too late tonight to go see her?
“So, what do you think?” This time Oscar grinned, as though he could see Bellamy’s resolve.
After dismissing her and not treating her the way she deserved, Bellamy would have a lot of work to do to win her. But he wanted to show her how serious he was about their relationship and about his love for her. And hopefully he could convince her to give them another chance and maybe even to love him in return.
“I think I’ll need the help of the matchmaker.” Bellamy let a grin of his own make an appearance. “A wily one with ideas on how to win the woman I love.”
“I have an idea or two, so I do. But it will take you a few days and plenty of determination.”
When Oscar finished laying out the plan, Bellamy nodded. “It’s solid, even brilliant.”
Oscar released what sounded like a relieved laugh. “I am the best.”
“Aye, so you are.” Bellamy meant the words. In the past, he’d been critical of Oscar’s methods of matchmaking. But through the whole experience with Zaira, Bellamy was learning he still had a long way to go until he was an expert in the ways of love. Maybe he would never reach that goal, but he was sure willing to try.
25
Zaira held out her hand and examined the gold bracelet she’d clasped around her wrist. At the center of the bracelet, four garnet jewels formed a flower around a center diamond with turquoise enamel.
The gift from Bellamy had been delivered yesterday afternoon by a messenger to Oakland. And it had been the third gift Bellamy had sent. Three gifts in three days.
She unclasped the bracelet and set it back on the bureau in her bedroom next to the matching brooch and necklace, each of which contained garnet florets and diamonds with the turquoise embellishment.
They were exquisitely beautiful and exactly the sort of colorful jewelry she would love to wear. Except that she couldn’t wear them, couldn’t accept the gifts. In fact, she’d taken off the claddagh ring, too, and placed it next to the jewelry she planned to give back to him.
Tomorrow. She was going into town tomorrow to deliver her next segment to Mr. Knapp, the next chapter in her novelthat she’d worked on rewriting for the past few days since returning to her family’s country home.
She hadn’t told her da or mam yet that she hadn’t quit writing the way they’d assumed. She also hadn’t told them she’d pulled the manuscript from the rubbish bin by the bank and taken it to Mr. Knapp. And she hadn’t told them Mr. Knapp had only been too happy to continue publishing her work because of the growing interest in the story.
She’d asked Mr. Knapp not to say anything to her da so she could find a way to inform him she was continuing her writing with the newspaper. Since Da had been staying in the city, she hadn’t had an opportunity to talk to him more about it.
As much as she balked at the thought of having to face him, she knew she had to. Now that she’d started down the hard path of honesty, she wanted to keep going, no matter how difficult it would be.
The next step wastellingDa her plans—notaskingfor permission. She wanted his approval, but she didn’t need it.
Da wouldn’t be happy with her decision to keep writing. In fact, he would be irate that she was defying him. He would probably lose his temper and be even more disappointed in her than ever. But he wouldn’t cast her out of the family, would he?
She swept her gaze over her lovely bedroom, her heart pinching at the prospect of giving it up. The ivy-patterned wallpaper was accented by potted plants situated around the room, making her feel as though she were in a garden. The bed canopy was created from wispy white tulle and the comforter patterned in white and green stripes and decorated with lacy white throw pillows.
Whatever might happen, she had to press forward in doing what she knew was right. She needed to stop hiding and learn to live her life more openly, then pray that Da—and the people she cared about—could accept her for who she was and not who they expected her to be.
It was still terrifying to think she’d been so bold, that she was still being so forthright, especially after concealing her true self. Regardless, she’d poured her heartache and frustration into the rewrites of the chapter, and she believed it was her best writing so far.
She finally understood what Mr. Knapp meant when he told her she needed to write with more emotion and from the heart. Most people glossed over their pain or tried to make it go away. But as a writer, she needed to examine all that she was feeling, try to make sense of it, and transfer it into her story. Of course, she would never wish on anyone the heartache she’d experienced with Bellamy—loving him but leaving him. But at least she could find some use for it.
An ache pulsed in her throat just thinking about walking away from him, especially as he lay injured in bed. She’d wanted to be with him, wanted a relationship with him, wanted to spend every minute by his side. She’d probably wished for that all along, even before they’d entered into their fake relationship.
The trouble was, with each day that she didn’t see him, the need for him only expanded so that she was missing him more than she’d believed possible. She wasn’t sure if she could wait until tomorrow to see him when she returned the jewelry. A part of her wanted to go into town today.
She expelled a tight sigh, forced herself to step away from the jewelry, then sat on the edge of her bed.
Bellamy was being sweet in sending her the gifts. She could give him credit for that. He hadn’t been belligerent about Kiernan and Da’s insistence that he marry her, and he hadn’t resisted their idea the way she’d expected. Instead, he’d been understanding, had even come to her defense with her writing when her da had belittled it.
At the thud of horse’s hooves coming down the long lane in front of the house, she shot up and pressed a hand against her chest. It was about the time of the afternoon when Bellamy’s messenger had come the past three afternoons. Was Bellamy sending another gift today?
She rushed to the window, threw aside the curtain, and fixed her gaze on the horse and rider. The swarthy skin, chiseled features, and dark hair belonged to only one man—the devastatingly handsome Bellamy McKenna.
