Chapter 2

2

"Oscar won't be here tonight." Her da paused outside the pub door.

Like half the Irish population of St. Louis, the owner of the pub and the local matchmaker, Oscar McKenna, was probably making his way to all the wedding parties, drinking and dancing and taking full advantage of the last night of revelry that would occur until after Easter.

Kiernan guided Enya, having tucked her hand into the crook of his arm. His touch was gentle, as though she were fragile glass that could break with the slightest pressure.

Maybe her brother hadn't exactly been enthusiastic about her news that she was pregnant. But at least he was treating her with extra tenderness and consideration now that he knew she was in the family way.

Her da and Kiernan had admonished her to wait in the barouche while they went inside the pub, since proper women didn't frequent such establishments. Kiernan had even reassured her that he only planned to invite the matchmaker to visit them at their house tomorrow.

But she had no intention of being left behind, not even for the initial contact with the matchmaker.

"We don't need Oscar." Kiernan twisted the doorknob. "Not when we're looking for Bellamy."

As the pub door swung open, Enya halted. "You want Bellamy to find me a husband?"

"Aye." Kiernan's lips rose into a grin. "If anyone is up to the challenge of finding you a husband, Bellamy will be."

Everyone speculated Oscar's youngest son would take over for him, not only in running the pub but also with the matchmaking role. Being the matchmaker was an important job, one Oscar had inherited from his father and grandfather. In fact, the matchmaker blood had been a part of the McKenna family as far back as the days of St. Patrick himself—at least according to Oscar.

Even if Bellamy had succeeded in helping Finola find her true love with Riley Rafferty, that didn't mean he would have success in matching anyone else. He was, after all, a young man of only twenty-two years of age, untried in the ways of love and marriage.

As Kiernan stepped with Enya into the pub, the stale odor of cigar smoke and beer assaulted her, turning her stomach. She sucked in a quick breath and blinked through the hazy, dimly lit room.

Spittoons sat in every corner, and a dozen or more square tables spread out over the establishment. Only two were occupied, and those by older men who weren't partaking in Shrove Tuesday festivities. They paused in their discussions, gawking at the newcomers.

Were they shocked that a lady was entering the pub? Or were they surprised to see the Shanahans? Either way, Kiernan paid them no heed, and neither did Da.

She'd expected the pub to be busier, even on Shrove Tuesday. But Kiernan had likely known it would be deserted, or he wouldn't have stopped and chanced bringing more embarrassment upon the Shanahan name.

With dark wood paneling covering the walls, the only color in the gloomy barroom came from the lovely oil paintings, each a different setting of somewhere in Ireland, most of rural landscapes depicting the beauty of the old country.

Of course, Enya didn't know what the old country looked like, since she'd been born in St. Louis and had never traveled far beyond their country home, Oakland, just outside the city. But her parents were native-born Irish and had immigrated to America during their youth and ended up in St. Louis on the western frontier.

A lone old fellow with light red hair sat on a stool at a polished mahogany bar counter that ran the length of the room, with shelves lining the wall behind it. Rows of glasses and bottles of all colors and shapes filled the shelves. A tub of dirty dishes and a few mugs, empty except for dregs, littered the counter.

With a nearly untouched glass of amber liquid in front of him, the older patron at the bar swiveled on his stool and stared just like the others had. His face was pale from too much time spent inside the dark pub, and the tip of his nose was large and purplish from a lifetime of heavy drinking.

"Georgie McGuire, where is Bellamy?" Kiernan directed his question to the pale, old man.

"Where is Bellamy?" Georgie's lips curved into a crooked smile, revealing only a few remaining teeth. "That's the question now. And I'd say it's a good one, to be sure."

Kiernan released Enya and gave her a stern frown, one that cautioned her to remain by the door. Then he stalked toward the bar, her da right on his heels. Their footsteps thudded ominously, so much so that Georgie's smile disappeared, and he picked up his mug and took a slurp, sloshing liquid over the edge.

Kiernan didn't halt at the bar but instead made his way around toward a door that led to the kitchen at the back of the pub. Before he was halfway there, Bellamy, with dark mussed hair, stepped out of the kitchen with a pencil and pad in one hand and a thick leather-bound journal in the other. He was wearing an apron that covered his trousers and vest, and his white dress shirt was rolled up at the sleeves, revealing muscular arms.

There once was a time when Enya had considered Bellamy incredibly attractive. With his tanned skin, well-built physique, and devastating dark brown eyes, he was the kind of man who easily turned the heads of women. But she wouldn't let that happen to her. Not anymore. She'd let one such handsome and charming man turn her head, and she'd learned her lesson.

"Bellamy McKenna." Kiernan approached the matchmaker, hand outstretched. "Just the man we're here to see."

Bellamy set the bulging book on the counter along with his paper and pencil before accepting Kiernan's handshake. "Kiernan Shanahan, what brings you out on a night like this?"

Bellamy's gaze flitted from Da to her to Kiernan and then back to her. He had a sharp gaze, one that seemed to see right past every facade.

Her black velvet cloak was open to reveal one of her best gowns—emerald with the low, V-shaped bodice that made her waist appear smaller and her bosom fuller. Her red hair was coiled in ringlets that were artfully arranged under a velvet cottage bonnet that matched her cloak.

She'd wanted to look her best for the meeting with the archbishop, and from the appreciative glances she'd received throughout the annulment proceedings, she'd succeeded in her efforts at maximizing her womanly allure.

But under Bellamy's scrutiny, her heart quaked. If she really went along with Kiernan's scheme, then she would be putting her fate into Bellamy's hands. What if he didn't like what he discovered about her? Worse yet, what if he didn't understand who she was and what she needed?

Bellamy and Kiernan rounded the bar, and Bellamy greeted Da and shook his hand.

"We need a favor, Bellamy," Da started.

Kiernan half perched on a stool a few down from Georgie. "We're here to discuss the possibility of enlisting your matchmaker services again."

"Are you now?"

"We are."

The few patrons in the place were hanging on to every word of the conversation, especially Georgie McGuire. He seemed to be eating it up as if it were the very food that nourished his body.

Bellamy quirked a brow in that devilishly handsome way of his and then leaned against the counter casually. "So this doesn't have to do with Finola and Riley?"

"Heavens, no." Kiernan released a scoffing laugh. "Those two are so in love it's sickening."

Was that jealousy in Kiernan's tone?

Whatever the case, he was right. Finola and Riley were most definitely in love, so much so that at times it was slightly nauseating. Da had told the newly married couple to live in the Shanahan mansion while the rest of the family was in the country, but on occasion when the family had to be in town—like for the meeting today—they were together under one roof with the newlyweds.

Enya was happy for her sister. She really was. But she couldn't deny that it was difficult to watch how much Riley adored Finola. He treated her so tenderly, selflessly, and sweetly. He couldn't seem to get enough of her, was always touching her and sneaking kisses.

It was so different from the way Bryan had interacted with her. Oh sure, he'd been solicitous and amorous right up until their wedding night. It was almost as if he'd been wooing her to get her into bed. And once he'd accomplished the challenge, he'd cast her aside like a half-used cigar no longer worth smoking.

So, aye, maybe she was jealous of Finola too. But she was also realistic enough now to know that what Finola had found with Riley was a rare treasure, one that many couples would never have. She didn't expect to find it for herself. Not anymore. The dreams of having a beautiful and loving marriage died the day Bryan told her good-bye and walked out of her life.

Bellamy was studying Kiernan's face. "I'm taking a wild gander you didn't come for yourself either."

Kiernan tilted his head toward Enya still standing by the door. "We came for Enya."

Finally all eyes in the pub turned upon her. She'd never minded attention, and at times she rather liked it. But under these circumstances, a slow burn of anger simmered deep inside. Anger that she was in this situation at all and not happily married. Anger that she was carrying a child and had no husband. Anger that if she didn't want to cause her family shame and scandal, she would have no choice but to get married again.

If she could have her way, she'd raise her child by herself and never talk to another man as long as she lived. Yet no matter how many times she'd considered the option, the results never changed. She had no way to make a living and provide for herself and a child. Even if she could find the wherewithal to start composing again, she was an unknown in the world of piano composers and wouldn't be able to make a living off her music.

She'd considered the possibility of giving piano lessons. But how could she support herself and a child on the meager income of a piano teacher?

"Enya." Bellamy spoke her name as though she was a riddle he intended to solve. "Are you in agreement to me finding you a match?"

Had he just read her mind? "What do you think, Bellamy?"

Her da broke into the conversation. "The archbishop gave her an annulment today, so he did. And the best course now is for Enya to find a good match."

The best course for him so the Shanahan reputation didn't suffer.

Bellamy tapped at the leather-bound journal on the bar counter. He'd obviously been busy, and they'd interrupted him.

As if recognizing the same, Kiernan took a step back. "Come over to the house tomorrow morning. We'd like to meet with you before we return to our country home."

Bellamy dropped his gaze to the paper he was still holding, and he seemed to read whatever he'd written there. Then he peered across the room at her again, his eyes narrowing and seeing all the way through her so that she felt entirely exposed, all her secrets laid bare.

She crossed her arms, hugging her cloak closed over her body, as if that would keep him from learning she was with child. But, of course, it wouldn't. Even if she wasn't showing, she sensed that he'd been able to deduce her condition. After all, what other reason would cause them to seek out his services so quickly after getting an annulment?

He would probably tell her to be on her way, that no decent, God-fearing man in St. Louis would want a ruined woman like her.

She didn't shift her gaze to the ground in shame the way she was tempted to. Instead, she forced herself to keep her chin up, even if he could read those words emblazed on her forehead— world's greatest fool . She took a step toward the door. "Let's go."

Bellamy shoved aside the leather-bound book. "I won't be coming tomorrow."

Kiernan's brow shot up. "Whyever not—"

"Because I'll be finding Enya a match tonight, that's why."

"Tonight?" Her question came out at the same time as Da's and Kiernan's.

Georgie McGuire was watching them with wide eyes again, and he was making a humming noise at the back of his throat. "Bellamy said he'll be finding Enya a match tonight."

"I heard Bellamy." Kiernan pinned a pointed look on the matchmaker. "But I guess I expected him to put more effort into making the match than—all of one minute."

Georgie pulled his pocket watch from his vest pocket and squinted down at it. "Actually, it's been at least two minutes."

"This is Enya's future we're deciding upon," Da interjected, "and we want her to be happy with this new choice."

Enya held back a snort. If Da was thinking about her happiness, then maybe he'd stop and consider what she wanted rather than pushing her immediately into marriage.

Bellamy turned and reached for a tall brown bottle on the shelf behind him. In the same motion, he swiped up two glasses and placed them on the bar counter. "Happiness doesn't always come easy. But with the right man, 'tis possible."

"Oh aye," Georgie piped in. "The right man is always deaf and blind ... to his wife's faults."

"A wife's faults?" Bellamy uncorked the bottle. With practiced, fluid motions, he poured liquid into first one glass and then the next. "What faults?"

"True enough," Georgie chortled. "The right fellow always takes the blame for every argument."

"Good man, Georgie." Bellamy smiled as he slid one of the glasses across the counter toward Da and the next to Kiernan. "I can see you're learning well under my tutelage."

"I only learn from the best."

Kiernan wasn't smiling, and neither was Da. Obviously they weren't finding any humor in the situation.

Good. Because she was more than ready to leave. She grasped the door handle. "This is a waste of our time. Bellamy is clearly too young to make matches."

Georgie, in the middle of taking a sip, scowled. "Bellamy might look like a suckling babe on his mammy's lap, but he's no dozer."

Suckling babe on his mammy's lap? Bellamy with all his brawn and beauty was a far cry from that picture.

Rather than taking offense, Bellamy's lips quirked into a half smile. "I'm not the Almighty."

"He's not the Almighty." Georgie spoke over his shoulder, as if to clear up the confusion with everyone else in the pub.

"But I have just the man for Enya." This time Bellamy's gaze was serious, so much so that Enya's heart gave a traitorous kick against her ribs.

No, she wouldn't let herself believe Bellamy could work his magic matchmaking skills for her the same way he had for Finola, that maybe he'd found her someone like Riley.

Kiernan took in the patrons still quietly observing the interaction. Then he lowered his voice. "Let's go someplace private to finish the discussion."

Bellamy cocked his head toward the kitchen door. "There's an office at the back of the pub."

As her da and Kiernan made their way toward the kitchen, Bellamy paused and lifted a brow at her. "Nip along, now. We can't make plans for your future without your say in the matter."

She hesitated only a moment before starting across the room. Her da and Kiernan wouldn't be pleased to have her sitting in on their matrimonial discussions—traditionally known as "plucking the gander." But if Bellamy was inviting her to participate, she wouldn't turn him down.

As she passed by him into the kitchen, she noted that the work area was empty, save a sink full of dishes that needed to be washed.

When Da and Kiernan disappeared into the office, she stopped and faced Bellamy, her hands on her hips. "Before we start, you need to be knowing one thing."

"You're with child." His gaze turned gentle.

She'd been right that he'd already figured out her condition. Even so, she couldn't keep the embarrassment from welling up inside.

"If you go into the match with your eyes wide open, Enya, you might eventually find love."

"My eyes are open, and I'm not looking for love." She'd thought she'd found love once, but she'd been wrong and had ruined her life in the process.

She wouldn't make that same mistake twice.