Page 20 of Calling on the Matchmaker
Her mam poked her with enough force that Finola knew it was time to make her grand entrance. She started forward, and when she reached the wide stairway with the carpeted runner, she stepped down, the high chandelier oil globes lit and shining upon her.
The men were still talking. And a familiar voice joined the conversation. “I admit I was surprised when Bellamy told me he’d arranged the meeting.” The voice belonged to none other than Riley Rafferty.
She stumbled and had to grasp the rail to keep from falling.
At her clunky movement, all eyes shifted in her direction, including Riley’s midnight blue eyes.
What was he doing here?
His face was cleanly shaven and his waves of blond hair were parted on the side and combed into submission. Instead of the simple attire he’d worn on previous occasions, he’d donned formal evening wear including a dark gray vest over a starched white shirt, matching gray trousers, and a black broadcloth tailcoat that fit snugly and showed off his muscular form. Heheld a black top hat and carried himself with the assurance of one who was as comfortable in an opulent mansion on Third Street as he was in a dingy tenement in the Kerry Patch.
Riley seemed to be taking in her appearance in the same measure, scanning her hair, gown, and the dainty slipper showing at the hem. Without the nun’s attire and the mud, she probably looked different too. What did he think?
As his gaze traveled back up to her face, she found herself holding her breath. Not that it mattered what Riley thought about her appearance tonight. She wasn’t making her grand entrance for him. She was making it for...
She glanced to the rest of the men, trying to locate the newest suitor, the one Bellamy had picked for her to meet first. But the only other men present were Bellamy, Kiernan, and her da. All three were dressed in evening suits in a similar fashion to Riley. And all of them were watching her.
Where was the mystery man who was coming tonight?
As though answering her unspoken question, Riley took several steps toward the stairs and looked up at her with a seriousness that sent strange flutters through her heart.
“How pleasant to see you again this eve, Miss Shanahan.”
She pressed a trembling hand against her chest before she realized she was doing so. Riley Rafferty couldn’t be the suitor. Could he?
Why else would he be visiting? Here? Now?
A strange sense of panic bubbled up, and her gaze darted to Bellamy. The young matchmaker must have made a mistake to arrange this meeting with Riley.
But Bellamy stood with his arms crossed, leaning against the doorframe to the parlor, the hint of a smile upon his lips, as though the evening was unfolding exactly the way he’d hoped. No doubt Bellamy had heard about Riley coming to her rescue and then her reaction afterward. Had he also learned about Riley seeing her changing clothes in the horse stall?
At Bellamy’s imperceptible nod, she had the feeling he was answering a silent yes to both questions.
She gave him what she hoped was an imperceptible frown back, one that told him she wasn’t pleased with his prying.
The clearing of her mam’s throat from behind was equivalent to a poke, another signal to behave. And in this case her mam expected her to greet their guest politely.
Finola gripped the rail again and took another step down. “Mr. Rafferty. I was not expecting to see you.”
She hadn’t expected to see him yesterday in the Kerry Patch either. But after the encounter, she only had to ask one or two questions to find out everything she wanted to know about the Raffertys.
They had lived in the Kerry Patch neighborhood almost from its inception. And instead of building a big house with profits from his burgeoning wagon-making business, William Rafferty had invested his money into buying other businesses.
He owned several liveries and a large dry-goods store that specialized in items needed for the overland journey west. Not only that, but William gave a portion of his earnings back to the community, helping to build better roads and fund the school on Wash Street.
Even so, Riley wasn’t the type of man Da would want for her. Surely Da preferred a wealthy, cultured man from among St. Louis’s elite families.
Aye, she needn’t worry. There was a misunderstanding. Her da would soon set everyone straight.
Drawing in a breath of resolve, she continued down the steps. “How is your father getting on today, Mr. Rafferty? I do hope well.”
“A sight better.” His gaze was riveted to her.
“Mr. Rafferty’s father suffered a heart attack earlier in the week.” She offered the explanation to her father, Kiernan, and Bellamy.
Kiernan had the same imposing build as Da and an intensity about him that could often be intimidating to those who didn’t know him well. His hair wasn’t as red as Da’s—more auburn, making him a fine-looking man wherever he went.
“Bellamy informed us.” Da offered Riley a sympathetic nod. “We’re glad to know he’s on the mend.”
