Page 69 of Calling on the Matchmaker
Finola threw back the blankets even farther and started toscramble out from underneath, but as she took in the sight of herself wearing his clothing, she drew the covers back and lay down stiffly beside him.
It was too late. He’d gotten a peek of his shirt askew, revealing her bare shoulder. But so had every other person in the room, and that realization formed a hard knot in his gut. He didn’t want anyone else viewing what was his.
Was she his? Did he still have a claim on her?
Embarrassment was etched into her delicate features. She clearly hadn’t expected to have half the city of St. Louis show up in his bedroom either.
For a few chaotic moments, Riley insisted that everyone leave. When Bellamy and Father O’Kirwin were the only two remaining, Bellamy closed the door and leaned casually against it.
His eyes were asking the same question that was running through Riley’s mind: how had Finola ended up in bed with him? From her shocked reaction when she’d awoken in his arms, she obviously hadn’t expected to be with him any more than he had with her.
What had happened during the night to bring them together this way?
Bellamy rubbed at his arms over his coat and then blew into his hands. “’Tis cold enough up here to freeze the whiskers off a cat.”
“Aye, that it is.” Father O’Kirwin’s tone was as righteous and zealous as if he’d been standing in the pulpit at mass.
Riley could only stare at the two. Why in the name of the blessed virgin was his campaign manager here?
“Finola, I thought you intended to keep the fire going.” Bellamy’s eyes held a glimmer of mischief.
“You left me with an empty coal bin, so you did, Bellamy McKenna.” She shuddered.
Without thinking, Riley tucked the covers around her more firmly.
Although she didn’t try to extricate herself from the bed again, she tossed him a glare, one that told him his touching her was only making them look all the guiltier.
The fact was, their situation was already incriminating enough. Nothing could make it worse.
Father O’Kirwin stepped up to the bed and peered down his wide nose through spectacles at Finola, his brows furrowing together into a straight line. “Is it possible you decided to let the stove die so you’d have an excuse to get into bed with Riley Rafferty?”
She released an indignant huff. “No, I never did. I was cold, and I stuck my legs under the covers to get warm. I didn’t mean to end up next to him.”
“If you were so cold, why did you get undressed?”
“Bellamy spilled water on my gown, and I had to take it off.”
Bellamy spilled water on her? Riley studied the young matchmaker’s face again.
He shrugged and avoided meeting Riley’s eyes. “I was bringing Finola more water just in case she needed to make additional amounts of her remedy.”
“And you just happened to spill it on her?”
Bellamy nodded. “I insisted that she go home, but she wanted to stay.”
Finola ducked her head, her cheeks turning pink.
This was interesting news. Finola had wanted to stay with him? To take care of him? Because she’d been worried?
Father O’Kirwin glanced at Bellamy, and the matchmaker gave him a nod as though to continue. But continue what?
“Finola Shanahan.” Father O’Kirwin’s voice dropped. “From the looks of things, you mishandled this situation. If you realized your mistake and wanted Riley back, you should have said so instead of staying the night with him like this.”
Finola’s eyes widened, the mortification in them growing. “I did no such thing. I vow it.”
“Then why are you in bed with him?”
“I couldn’t find any other blankets.”
