Bellamy was coming. To see her? Why else would he make a trip out?
She practically threw the curtain back in place and plastered herself against the wall. What should she do?
Frantically, her gaze flew to the door. She wanted to rush down and greet him the moment he arrived. But she couldn’t act too eager, could she? She had to behave with more caution. Because she was opposing him no matter what he might say to convince her that she wasn’t trapping him into marriage, that her da wasn’t forcing him, that the marriage was what he really wanted after all.
He’d told her the truth in the bank storage room after their kiss—that she wasn’t the woman for him. She couldn’t forget that, and neither the gifts nor his pleas could change the fact that if they hadn’t spent the night together, he wouldn’t be proposing marriage at all, much less so quickly. He wasonly doing it because he was a man of honor and believed he needed to save her.
Without moving from her spot against the wall, she waited as she heard him reach the front of the house, dismount, and race up the stairs. When his fist knocked firmly against the door, she drew in a quick breath. At the sound of the door opening and then voices, she closed her eyes.
Several moments later, the light taps of footsteps hurrying toward her bedroom told her Mam had sent a servant to fetch her. After the servant announced that she had a visitor, Zaira forced herself to count to twenty-five before leaving her room and descending the stairway. She expected to see Bellamy in the hallway or perhaps in the sitting room, but only her mam waited.
“He’s outside on the veranda,” Mam whispered, approaching and tucking a strand of Zaira’s hair back into her chignon and then straightening one of the fabric-covered buttons on her bodice.
Zaira didn’t want Mam making her presentable to Bellamy, hoping he would still want her and be willing to take her even though now she was blemished. The trouble was, she was already too flawed for Bellamy’s taste, and having one more stain wouldn’t make a difference.
Mam guided her forward. “I’ve sent the servant to bring you tea.” She opened the front door and practically pushed Zaira out.
From the corner of her eye, Zaira could see Bellamy, but she shifted so her back faced him. Instead, she paused to allow Mam to follow her and act as a chaperone.
But Mam took a step back into the hallway. “Go on withyou now. You’ve kept Bellamy waiting long enough.” With that, Mam closed the door firmly, leaving Zaira staring at it.
Apparently her parents didn’t care anymore if she spent time alone with Bellamy, probably because they assumed the wedding would take place any day. Or maybe they both realized that after she’d spent an entire night with Bellamy, having a chaperone now was silly.
“Hi, Zaira.” Bellamy’s soft greeting behind her sent shivers up her spine.
Why, oh why did even the merest sound of his voice have to affect her this way?
She stared at the front door for a few more seconds, trying to pull her emotions into a semblance of normalcy. She could feel Bellamy watching her, waiting for her to turn. She couldn’t put it off forever, even though she wished she could.
Dragging in a steadying breath, she pivoted to find Bellamy leaning against the porch railing. He was half perched on the beam, his arms crossed casually, his flatcap tilted at a rakish angle, and his dark eyes unreadable.
At the full effect of his handsomeness, her heart tumbled into an endless fall. She took him in, from the dark hair curling at the edge of his collar to the stretch of his vest across his chest to the long, lean legs crossed at his feet. Although his arm was in a sling, he didn’t seem to be in pain or suffering in any way.
As she lifted her eyes to meet his, a smirk was playing at the corner of his mouth, almost as if he was enjoying watching her ogle him.
She narrowed her eyes into a glare in an attempt to rid herself of all the feelings for him that hadn’t diminishedand had only grown stronger. “Bellamy, you shouldn’t have ridden out here with your injured shoulder.”
His smirk only widened. “’Tis good to see you still care about me.”
“You’re the hero who saved my life. Of course I care about your well-being.”
“Admit it. You care for more than just my well-being.”
She pressed her hands to her hips, mostly to keep them from trembling. “I’d like to see you heal from your wound. That’s all.” If only that really was all.
He shrugged. “I came to tell you the two bank robbers were finally caught. Mr. Wright told the constables everything, and the two were apprehended getting off a steamboat near Hannibal.”
“That’s a relief.” Maybe in the end she and Bellamy had been able to do some good after all, which would make all the trouble they were in worth it.
“I also came to tell you Seamus and Moya are doing well.”
“I’ve missed them.” And she’d been wondering how they were faring.
“Gavin crafted a special stool for Moya to stand on in the kitchen because she wants to be with Jenny and help her all the time.”
Zaira couldn’t contain a smile. “I’m glad they’re getting on so well.”
“Oh aye. Right well.” His eyes were alight with a merriness she adored, one she couldn’t resist, one she didn’t want to go away. “I also came to find out if you liked my gifts.”
