Page 73 of Calling on the Matchmaker
Riley hadn’t yet buttoned his shirt, was in the process of strapping suspenders over his shoulders. “I haven’t moved on, Finola. That should be obvious enough after this morning. And Bellamy’s going to make sure Oscar tells Daniel that I won’t be taking up his offer. Right, Bellamy?”
Bellamy nodded. “Rightly so.”
Riley was all but admitting he still cared for her. It shouldn’t matter. She shouldn’t encourage it, but she couldn’t keep a breath of relief from blowing through her.
She sat up and drew the covers about her shoulders. Even though one of the blankets promptly slipped down, revealing Riley’s shirt, her long hair fell like curtains and provided another layer of cover for her indecent attire.
Riley released an exasperated breath. “But I told Finola I wouldn’t coerce her, and I haven’t changed my mind about it.”
“What if you don’t need to coerce me?” The words came out before she had time to think about what she was saying.
All three men turned their attention upon her.
For long seconds, she didn’t dare move, not even to squirm under the scrutiny as they waited for her to expound on what she meant. Maybe she’d been rash. Maybe she was making a terrible mistake. But she had to at least consider what she could do to help Riley.
“I’d like a moment alone with Finola,” Riley said.
Father O’Kirwin still stood with his prayer book open. “Might as well not delay the inevitable.”
“One moment.” Riley’s tone took on an edge that made it clear he was a leader and wouldn’t be told what to do, no matter how much pressure the others put on him.
Bellamy was the first to step to the door, and Father O’Kirwin reluctantly followed. As soon as they exited into the hallway,Riley started to close the door but then must have thought better of being alone with her again in his bedroom.
The gesture was noble of him, but their reputations were already in tatters.
He crossed toward the bed and stood at the edge. She could feel him waiting for her to look up and meet his gaze. But she couldn’t, was too afraid of what she’d see in his eyes, that he’d be able to win her over all too easily.
“I meant what I said the other night,” he whispered.
She knew he was referring to their parting of ways, when he’d informed her that if she didn’t want to be with him, he wouldn’t try to convince her otherwise.
“I’ll stick to it, if that’s what you really want.”
Was that what she really wanted?
After the past few days of thinking she’d lost Riley, she had to finally be honest with herself and admit she wanted Riley Rafferty. But if she allowed herself to get married, she’d give up the peaceful and controlled future she’d planned for herself. How would she find peace when the nightmares and the sound of crying haunted her? How would she be able to be a good wife? And how could she ever be a good mother?
She didn’t want any babies of her own, but from as passionate as Riley was with their kisses, she knew he’d never be satisfied with a chaste marriage. In fact, he’d already made it clear just how much he wanted her. She wouldn’t be able to deny him—wouldn’t want to deny him.
She clasped her hands to keep them from trembling. Was she really ready to abandon her vow to enter the convent? She didn’t want to disappoint God or the Sisters. But what choice did she have?
She couldn’t hurt her da or Riley. But she’d cause them both much grief if she didn’t go through with the union. How could she stand in the way of their progress? Doing so would be utterly selfish on her part.
Aye, she’d questioned Riley about his stand against slavery, had confronted him about not adding it to his platform. But she still wanted him to run for mayor, still wanted him to make a difference in the city, still believed in him.
“Finola.” He brushed the hair on her shoulder, his fingers skating along her collarbone. Even though his shirt was now in place and covering her, his touch turned her insides upside down and right-side up again. “Please talk to me. Tell me how you honestly feel.”
Whenever she was with Riley, he seemed to demand that she speak openly, wouldn’t let her get away with her usual subversive tactics.
“I want to marry you.” His whisper was hoarse. “But I won’t do it—absolutely won’t—unless you’re willing.”
She tried to draw the blanket higher, wanting to hide within. But nothing could hide her emotions at this point, especially not from herself. Was she willing? Could she agree to it?
If she went ahead with the matchmaking plans, she’d do it for Riley and her da. But she would deny herself any pleasure or happiness in the union. Doing so would be a form of penance.
Steeling herself, she made herself say the words she knew she needed to. “Aye, Riley Rafferty, I’ll marry you. Willingly. And I promise this time I won’t try to find a way out.”
He released a breath. Was it one of relief? Was he glad for her answer? A dozen questions seemed to radiate in his eyes. “You’re sure this is what you want, Finola?”
