Page 27 of Calling on the Matchmaker
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Finola pressed the folded slip of paper in her pocket and then let herself look more fully upon Riley, who sat at the opposite end of the dining room table from her.
He hadn’t paid her much heed throughout the feast, using only the most formal of manners whenever he’d interacted. She hoped his politeness meant he was forgetting about their first unfortunate encounters and was trying to finally behave as a gentleman.
As with earlier in the week when he’d visited for the initial matchmaking meeting, he was attired in a white shirt underneath a vest and coat, and a cravat tied about the turned-up collar, accentuating his angular jaw and the other handsome lines of his face.
Just because she intended to foil the match didn’t mean she couldn’t appreciate his fine looks, the way his toasted blond hair curled up at the back of his neck and near his ears, the stretch of his coat across his broad shoulders, and even his muscular arms.
He wiped his hands on the linen napkin and placed it beside his plate as the servants finished clearing off the remains of theirmeal—roasted goose with bread stuffing, cabbage and potatoes with bacon, and honey-glazed carrots.
The cook entered the dining room carrying a silver tray laden with a traditional round cake made with dried fruit and spices.
Mam rose from her spot and motioned for the cook to set the cake on the nearby sideboard. “Time for the barmbrack.”
Finola couldn’t keep from releasing an exasperated sigh, one that drew Riley’s attention. He peered at her through the glowing light of the candelabra at the center. “I take it you don’t like barmbrack, Miss Shanahan?”
The polished oak dining room table had been set with their finest porcelain, polished silverware, crystal goblets, and spotless linen. The room, like the others in the spacious house, was lavishly decorated, the paneling and wallpaper complementing the black horsehair upholstery of the chairs. One wall contained an enormous mirror above a large black marble fireplace. The other wall held a large sideboard with another mirror.
“Oh, I like it well enough.” Why did her pulse start to speed every time she had an exchange with him? “I just think the superstitions associated with it are silly.”
“I admit, my family doesn’t regard some of the old traditions.” Riley was leaning back in his chair as relaxed as if he were completely at home. With his dad still recovering from the heart attack, his family had regretfully declined the invitation to join in eating the gander. Da had suggested having another celebratory supper closer to the wedding, one that hopefully Mr. Rafferty would be able to attend.
Finola knew what Da had left unsaid, that he didn’t quite believe another supper would come, that the wedding plans would fall apart before then. Though she didn’t want to disappoint him, she’d silently agreed the chances of having a second celebration were slim.
She fingered the sheet again in her pocket—the list Madigan had gathered with Riley’s sister’s help. When Finola had read it yesterday, she’d been more than a little shocked by the nature of the things Riley found disagreeable, so much so she questioned whether the list was true.
Once Madigan had explained that Riley was a widower, the list had taken on new meaning. And she’d finally understood why a heroic and popular man at the age of twenty-six hadn’t yet been snatched up by an eager young woman, because he’d already once been snatched up by a woman named Helen.
Aye, Finola could admit she’d had Madigan inquire further into Riley’s first marriage, and he hadn’t discovered much except to report the rumors that it had been short and tumultuous.
According to Riley’s sister, her brother had been opposed to remarriage. But shortly after his dad’s heart attack, he reluctantly promised his dad that he would get married, particularly because he wanted to honor what he thought was his dad’s dying wish. Only then had he agreed to meet with the matchmaker.
Now, here Riley was, honoring his dad’s request. Even though William Rafferty was no longer at death’s door, Riley intended to go through with the match. But he apparently wanted to do things “right” this time by building a friendship first and not focusing on the physical attraction.
His goals were noble, and under other circumstances she would have respected his solid plan. But her situation was anything but usual. If she had her way, this breakup would be the quickest yet. She might even be able to facilitate it tonight.
“The barmbrack cake is a fun tradition, Mr. Riley.” Enya spoke from beside Finola. As one of the servants placed a freshly cut piece of cake in front of her, Enya twisted the porcelain plate around as though peering for one of the items within the cake’s dark layers. “There’s a ring hidden within.”
“Tell me about it.” Riley’s gaze had already shifted away from Finola onto Enya.
“It’s believed that whoever finds the ring hidden within the barmbrack will get married early.” Attired in an emerald gown that highlighted her red hair, Enya was as vivacious as always. Tonight she’d transformed from an ancient Celtic goddess into a regal queen.
Finola had the strangest urge to be the one telling Riley about the tradition—but not because she’d didn’t want Riley paying Enya attention. Enya would never be seriously interested in a man like Riley.
In fact, Enya had argued again earlier in the day with Mam about Bryan Haynes, this fight bringing her to tears. Afterward, she’d thrown herself across the bed she shared with Finola and lamented about the need for Mam and Da to accept all people and stop being so narrow-minded.
“Long ago,” Enya continued, “the cake contained many other items beside the ring.”
“Seems that eating the barmbrack must have been dangerous.” Riley eyed his slice of cake. “At the very least it was a choking hazard.”
“The items were small,” Kiernan interjected from his chair beside Riley. The whole family was present around the massive table—Mam and Da each on an end. The boys sat in their usual spots on one side starting with Kiernan, then Madigan, and ending with Quinlan, who was thirteen and the youngest of the family.
Her baby sister, Ava, would have been the youngest ... if she hadn’t died that fateful day.
Of course there were two other siblings who’d succumbed to measles not long after Ava’s passing. Mam had been devastated to lose them so close to her baby. Her grief had been agonizing to watch. So had her disappointment in failing to get pregnant month after month so she could replace the children she’d lost.
Mam’s heartache had only made Ava’s accident all the worse and had added to Finola’s guilt, the guilt that still taunted her. Sometimes at night when she woke up to echoes of Ava’s crying, she thought she could also hear Mam’s.
