Page 19 of Calling on the Matchmaker
“Even though you deny it, I know it’s because he’s Protestant.”
Mam didn’t respond and instead held herself rigidly.
Finola’s gaze darted between her mam and sister. Though Enya had Da’s red hair and fiery temper, she took after Mam in almost every other way, including the fact that both were strong-willed and stubborn. Because of that, they’d been clashing since the day Enya had kicked and screamed her way out of the womb—as Da liked to say.
“I’m old enough to decide for myself what I want.” Enya’s statement was low and filled with challenge. The words weren’t new. Enya had spoken them during other arguments. And she’d likely speak them again. The trouble was that the arguments were growing more frequent and more intense, causing Mam’s eyes to crinkle at the corners with exhaustion and Da’s smile to show itself less frequently.
Mam took in a breath, squared her shoulders, then answered with a calmness that was clearly forced. “I’ll not be arguing with you tonight, Enya. This eve is for Finola, and we’ll not do anything to compromise her chances of finally getting a match.” Before Enya could form a retort, Mam opened the door and stepped into the hallway. “Now come along with you, Finola.”
Finola gripped the cushion of her chair, and she wished she could tell Mam she didn’t want to get matched, that this would all be a waste of time.
But even as she opened her mouth to say something, the words got lost inside, just like they always did. What more could she say to change her parents’ minds than she already had?
Maybe if she were like Enya, she would have been able to voice her wishes more forcefully. At the very least, she could have brought it up on another occasion and insisted that she needed to go into service to the church. The trouble was that every time she considered saying something more, the moment just didn’t seem right.
Like now.
Enya glared after Mam, her eyes brimming with bitterness. But Mam’s footsteps were already firmly leading away from the room.
Stifling her own frustration, Finola let go of the cushion and stood. With the tension her parents were experiencing with Enya, she didn’t want to add to their problems. She would simply have to handle this new matchmaking effort her own way.
She took a step, only to have Enya grasp her hand. “You don’t have to do this, you know.”
Finola shifted so she was face-to-face with her sister. She lifted her other hand and cupped Enya’s cheek. What should she say to this dear sister who had been the one to speak up for them both during their childhood? She loved her sister and her parents both and didn’t want to disappoint either side.
“We aren’t living in the Dark Ages, Finola.” Enya was as seriousand passionate as always. “We don’t need our parents or a matchmaker to tell us whom we can or can’t marry.”
“Don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself.”
Enya wavered, seeming suddenly so young and uncertain.
Finola pressed a kiss to her sister’s forehead. “I heard you composing a new song earlier on the piano. Will you play it for me later?”
“I don’t have it quite finished.”
“I still want to hear it.” She squeezed Enya’s hand before she released her and followed after Mam.
Her mam was waiting several paces away from the top of the spiraling marble stairway that led to the grand entrance hallway. Mam placed a finger to her lips and cocked her head down the steps.
The men were exchanging greetings, among them her da’s voice and Kiernan’s. She wasn’t surprised her da had invited Kiernan to be a part of the matchmaking process. After all, as the oldest son and heir to the Shanahan fortune, Kiernan would have to form an advantageous marriage soon.
Perhaps her brother had even been the one to suggest sitting in so he could prepare for using the matchmaker himself. Only a year younger than her, Kiernan was reaching marriageable age too, but Da and Mam had made it clear they intended to see her wedded first.
Although Kiernan hadn’t complained about her string of failed relationships, she could sense his growing frustration with her. As far as she knew, Kiernan didn’t have his sights set on one particular woman, but lately he’d been dropping hints that Finola needed to hurry so he could have his turn.
“My father sends along his greetings,” Bellamy said. “But he’s busy making another match tonight, that he is.”
“It’s that time of year,” her da said good-naturedly.
“Oh, aye.” Bellamy’s voice held a note of sarcasm. “Everybody is scrambling to find their special someone before Lent.Rue the poor man or woman who has to celebrate Christ’s resurrection as a bachelor or a spinster.”
Laughter wafted up the stairway. And Kiernan’s sounded strained.
Finola’s chest pinched with guilt that only seemed to be getting stronger every day. Maybe her delays were making Kiernan more unhappy than she’d realized. She didn’t see her brother often. Between her charity work and his many business endeavors, they were rarely at a family meal together. Or maybe she’d just been too preoccupied with her own future to take his into consideration.
“Let’s hope the discussion tonight is fruitful,” Kiernan said.
She’d been selfish and inconsiderate. From now on, she’d have to work more rapidly and stringently to bring about the dissolutions of all the relationships.
