“Meghan—”
She opened her mouth with the intention of stopping their passionate exchange, but he ventured past her lips with his tongue. And then Meghan was inviting him to continue as she responded with a whimper of pleasure and the dueling of his tongue with her own.
Fire burned through Meghan’s blood, blossoming in her abdomen and tingling in her breasts. He thrust gently against her, and she felt Lucas’s hardness pressing against her skirt as she made a sound of pleasure that he shared her feelings.
Lucas kissed her neck, and she gasped. His hands slipped to her sides along the outer curve of her breasts, down to her waist where his fingers squeezed gently for a moment before slipping lower.
Meghan moaned as he cupped her buttocks. With his mouth, he worshiped the area exposed above the neckline of her gown, and she closed her eyes as her senses swam with desire.
He straightened and found her lips with his mouth. Slipping her hands to his nape, she clutched his head and kissed him back, glorying in the dizzying, bodytingling sensations that rocked her. He raised his head to gaze at her with longing.
“Meghan,” he whispered, “come with me.”
She stared back from beneath lowered eyelids, wishing only that he’d continued to kiss and caress her.
“Come with me, Meghan. I promise I’ll be good to you. You’ll not have cause to regret it.”
Reality brought a cold curling in her breast. She shivered and pushed him away. “No,” she choked. “I can’t.” What had she done?
“Can’t?” he said, anger darkening his features. “Or won’t?”
“I’m betrothed!”
Lucas stared at her with frustration. “You couldn’t tell that a moment ago!”
He heard her gasp and felt regret for hurting her. But he wanted her, and the pain of knowing he couldn’t have her was killing him by slow degrees. She wanted him; he knew it! Why wouldn’t she give in?
Her face was ashen, her blue eyes huge and bright against her paleness. Lucas wanted to take her in his arms and comfort her, but he knew that the gesture would quickly turn to something else. If he held her in his arms again, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from taking her on his bunk. He wanted her in his bed that badly.
“Goodbye, Lucas,” she said. Her lips quivered.
He couldn’t keep his eyes off her damn lovely mouth. He extended his hand. “Meghan—”
“I have to go,” she cried and rushed past him to the door.
“Meghan, wait!”
She froze with her hand on the door, but she didn’t turn around.
“Be happy,” he said.
She nodded and only then did she glance back. “You, too, Lucas Ridgely,” she whispered. And then to his disappointment, she was gone.
Meghan stood at the ship’s rail and with tears clouding her vision stared at the dark shadow of land in the horizon.
“Oh, Da,” she breathed. “I miss ye so. Tell me what to do!”
She closed her eyes, and moisture fell on her cheek. She hurriedly brushed it away, for she’d made a vow to be strong … for Da … and herself.
But then she hadn’t counted on her involvement with Lucas Ridgely. She was wrong to desire him; she knew it, but yet her body betrayed her whenever he was within distance.
“I shouldn’t have gone to his cabin,” she murmured. She should have realized to do so would be courting trouble, that Lucas might take her appearance the wrong way.
She felt alone, so alone. Da was gone. Rafferty waited for her in America, but it had been so long since she’d seen him. Almost two years.
And now she fought a physical attraction for a man she’d known for a few days over a week.
Meghan didn’t fool herself into thinking she loved Lucas. She barely knew him. He’d rescued her, and she was grateful, but that was all.
Well, not quite all, she thought. She always knew that physical attraction had nothing to do with love. It was the reason she’d consented to marry Rafferty. A good marriage was based on friendship and respect. Passion often clouded a person’s judgment, tricking one into believing that what one felt was love, while actually physical attraction was simply nature’s way of reminding men and women of the differences in their bodies.
One didn’t need passion to have children. Passion was a temporary state, while love based on mutual admiration was enduring. Hadn’t the Bible warned against sins of the flesh?
Dear God, forgive me, she silently prayed. I’ve sinned. I’ve allowed me lust for a man to rule me heart.
The worst of her sins, she realized, was that for one moment while she was in Lucas’s arms, she’d actually contemplated accepting his offer. She’d nearly sacrificed her immortal soul for a few months in a man’s bed!
Thank God she’d come to her senses in time.
By early evening, she’d be stepping off the ship onto American soil. Rafferty would be waiting for her. They were a day late in their arrival, but he would have found a place to stay to wait for his best friend and his future wife
As Meghan turned from the rail, a gust of wind caught her in the face, tearing off her hood, whipping through her unbound hair. The tears on her cheeks dried as if she’d never given in to the weakness. Swallowing hard, she fought to pull up her hood and then made her way to the ship’s ladder and the comfort of her cabin mates’ company below.
Eight
Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
Rafferty O’Connor clenched his fingers about his glass as he lifted it toward his lips. How could he be expected to remain another day? he wondered angrily. He tossed back a shot of whiskey; heat burned a path down his throat and seared his belly. He’d been in this port city for two days now, waiting for the arrival of the McBrides, whiling away his hours at this bloody tavern. He’d need another day to travel back to Somerton Mill in New Castle County, Delaware.
He had to get back to his job at the store; he couldn’t afford to wait another hour.
The Irishman squinted his eyes against the sun’s glare as he came out of the tavern’s dark interior. He checked the docks one last time, hoping for a sight of the Mary Freedom. There were several vessels tied up along the shore, but none of them was the ship from Liverpool.
Rafferty scowled. “Sorry, McBride,” he mumbled. A man had to report to work in order to keep his employment.
He felt a moment’s regret that he’d not be there to greet his dear Meghan when she came ashore. He searched the quay for someone to meet the McBrides, someone who could arrange to take his friends to Mrs. Pridgly’s boardinghouse in Somerville where he lived.
He rubbed his stubbly chin as he surveyed a man hawking his wares from the shop across the way. Peddlers pushed carts while others drove horse-drawn wagons; their singsong voices filled the air proclaiming the quality of the goods.
Rafferty scowled as he studied the people around him. There wasn’t a soul in sight he’d entrust with Meghan’s care, until he spied a youth about twelve years old as the boy ambled by, pushing a cart of apples.
“Boy!” Rafferty called. “Boy!”
The lad stopped, caught Rafferty’s gaze, and with an anticipatory grin approached. “Apple, sir?” he said, holding out a red, shiny specimen for the man to examine.
Rafferty shook his head. “Not today.” He stopped the lad from leaving. “What’s your name, son?”
“Tom, sir.”
“Care to make some coin?”
The boy suddenly looked wary. “Doin’ what, mister?”
“Will ye be here tomorra as well?”
Tom nodded.
“Me woman’s arriving tomorra morn’. She’ll be coming on the Mary Freedom. Her name’s Meghan McBride, and she’ll be traveling with her father. I’d like ye to stay today and tomorra as well, until ye can give the lady me note. Can ye do that?”
His expression brightening, Tom inclined his head.
“Here’s something for yer trouble,” Rafferty said, handing the boy two bits.
“Two lev
ies, sir!” the boy exclaimed. “Thank you, sir.”
Rafferty nodded. “If ye help the lady get to Somerville on the Brandywine, I’ll see that ye get a full dollar.”
Tom’s eyes glowed as he caressed his coins. “Aye, sir. I’ll do it. I’ll see that yer lady gets to Somerville.”
The ship docked in Philadelphia late afternoon two days later than expected. Meghan hugged each of her cabin mates in turn, saving Mrs. Finn for last.
“Ye be sure to write me now, lass,” the old woman implored.
“Aye, Mrs. Finn. I’ll be sure to do it.”
“And make sure your fiancé takes good care of ye. I’ll be after his hide if he doesn’t.”
Meghan nodded, her eyes stinging with tears. She knew that the woman had forgotten to whom she was engaged, but it didn’t matter. Mrs. Finn cared … and Meghan would probably never see her again.
“So ye’ll be traveling to Delaware,” Bridget said.
Meghan smiled. “Aye, to a place in the county of New Castle. A place called Somers or the like.” She had actually enjoyed Bridget’s company once the young woman had recovered from being ill.
“Me—I’ll be staying in Philadelphia,” Bridget said. “Me cousin Sean lives here. He’s arranged me employment.”
“Good luck, Bridget.” Meghan held out her hand. “Take good care of yourself.”
The young woman blinked, her eyes overly bright. “I will,” she whispered.
The four women stared at each other as they stood on the upper deck. They’d shared quarters for eighteen days. They’d begun as strangers and now were parting as friends, never to see each other again.
“Where’s yer intended?” Mary Beth asked.
Meghan felt a jolt. “He’s down below, but he’ll be comin’ up soon.”
Someone called Bridget’s name. “Sean!” the young woman called back joyously, recognizing the man who waved vigorously from the shore. She turned back to her former cabin mates. “God go with ye,” she murmured, and then rushed ashore, happily greeting the dark-haired gentleman who hurried forward to meet her.
The three remaining women stood quietly together as each waited for someone to come for them. Donal Finn, brother to Mrs. Finn’s late husband, came up from steerage. A thin man with twinkling blue eyes and smile lines at the corners of his mouth, he nodded to each lady before addressing his sister-in-law.
“Doreen?” he said. “Are ye ready to go now?”
“Aye, Donal,” she replied, and Meghan was surprised to see her blush. Meghan smiled. The man was younger, but Mrs. Finn had admitted that he was even more handsome than his late older brother. And Donal Finn was a kind man … and single.
“Goodbye, dearies,” the older woman said as she followed her brother-in-law off the ship.
Soon someone came for Mary Beth, and Meghan waited on deck all alone. Her gaze searched the shore for Rafferty. Would she recognize him or would he have changed too much since he’d left Ireland?
No one in her line of vision resembled the man who’d been her father’s best friend.
Oh, Da! What now?
The air was cold and nippy, and she wore her cloak—Lucas’s cloak. She clutched her small bundle of belongings and wondered what she should do.
She hadn’t seen Lucas since their kiss in his cabin. She told herself she was glad, for he was a complication in her life she didn’t need. Meghan glanced over her shoulder and then scolded herself severely for looking. What would she hope to gain from one more glimpse of Lucas Ridgely? She should be glad, not disappointed that there was no sign of the handsome man.
Meghan gripped her cloth bundle tighter and started toward the platform that would allow her to leave the ship. Goodbye. Lucas, she thought with a pang of longing. She pulled herself together as she stepped onto the gangplank. Hello, America. Will ye be good to me?
The feel of solid earth beneath her feet was strange as she stepped off the ship. She’d gotten so used to the sway of the vessel on the sea that it felt odd to be on firm ground. Meghan moved out of the way of other disembarking passengers, her gaze alert for her betrothed. She experienced a growing panic after minutes had gone by and then an hour with no sign of Rafferty O’Connor.
Now what do I do? Where could she go? She had no money or place to stay. In the name of God, Rafferty, where are ye?
She was alone in a strange country without coin or friends. She was vulnerable to criminals and thieves, and afraid.
“Meghan.”
She spun at the sound of the male voice. Lucas Ridgely stood beside her, eyeing her with concern.
“Lucas!” she gasped.
He frowned as he studied her. “What’s wrong?”
She swallowed against a lump, fighting emotion. She’d never expected to see him, and now he was here when she was scared and feeling the most vulnerable.
“There’s no one here to meet me!” she cried, panic evident in her tone.
“Your fiancé isn’t here?”
She nodded, fighting tears. No, she thought, turning away. I will not cry. Tis a sign of weakness! And she’d promised Da.
“Do you know where he lives?” Lucas asked. His query was as gentle the hand that he settled on her shoulder.
She hurriedly wiped her eyes, before facing him again. “Somerton or Somerville—I don’t know … I have to think!” What did she remember from Rafferty’s letters? He worked for a company that made paper. Paper and cloth.
“They make paper.”
“Somerton Mill along the Brandywine Creek?” Lucas sounded surprised “I know where it is. I’m passing that way; I’ll take you there.”
“Ye will?”
He smiled, and she basked in the warmth of his grin.
Meghan experienced doubt. I shouldn’t go with him. What if Rafferty came and she wasn’t here?
They stood on the wharf with people all about them, but Meghan’s thoughts were with Lucas and how she wanted to go with him, but was afraid. She wondered why Rafferty wasn’t here and prayed that nothing serious had happened to him.
“I don’t know what to do,” she admitted. “What if me fiancé comes?”
Suddenly, a young boy with an apple cart rushed up to them. “I’m supposed to find a lady,” he gasped, “but my mam kept me late. Now I think I’ve missed her!”
Lucas placed a hand on the youth’s shoulder. “Who are you looking for?”
“Meghan McBride,” he said. “My name’s Tom.”
Meghan inhaled sharply. “I’m Meghan McBride.”
Tom looked at Lucas and raised his eyebrows. “You her father?”
Lucas chuckled. “Do I look old enough?”
“Nope.”
“Me father’s dead,” Meghan said. “Died coming across the sea.”
“I’m sorry, miss,” the boy said.
Meghan nodded, unsmiling. “Thank ye,” she whispered. Feeling Lucas’s regard, she looked up, met his dark gaze, and saw the compassion there.
“I’ve a message from Mr. O’Connor.”
Meghan stiffened. “Where is he?” she asked.
“He couldn’t be here,” Tom said. “He was here, but he had to leave.” He reached inside the pocket of his grubby shirt and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. “He gave me this to give to ya.”
Meghan took and unfolded the note. The only thing written on the piece of paper was Rafferty O’Connor and another name. “I don’t understand,” she said.
“Let me see it.”
Lucas scowled after reading the paper. “For God’s sake, what is that supposed to mean!” He turned to the boy. “Did he say anything else?”
“Just that he had to get to Delaware.”
“It must be his work,” Meghan murmured. “I hope he hasn’t lost his employment.”
“I doubt it,” Lucas said. “I’ve met Mr. Somerton. He seemed like a decent enough fellow.”
Tom shifted on his feet. “The man said there was coin in it for me if I got you to Somerville, miss.”
Lucas dug into his pocket and pulled out a gold coin. “Here you are,” he said. “I’ll see that the lady gets home.”
The boy’s eyes widened. “A quarter eagle, sir? But Mr. O’Connor—he said just a dollar!”
“A reward for finding us, Tom.”
Tom beamed at his one-dollar-and-fifty-cents bonus. “Thank you, sir.”
Lucas nodded and, when the boy had departed, placed his arm about Meghan’s shoulders. “Come. I’ll hire us a carriage.”
Meghan was stunned by Lucas’s generosity. He must be rich, she thought, recalling the boy’s overjoyed expression. She’d entertained the notion of his wealth before; why then did his actions surprise her?
“I’m sorry,” she said, allowing Lucas’s arm to remain. “It seems that fate has you rescuing me again.”
“Fate,” he said. He shook his head. “Pleasure, Meghan, not fate. It’s my pleasure to see that you reach your destination. After all we’ve been through, I’d hate for anything bad to happen to you now.”
He called and waved to a crewman from the Mary Freedom, who left and returned later with Lucas’s sea chest.
“Wait here while I arrange for that carriage.” Lucas smiled to reassure her.
She nodded, her heart palpitating within her breast as she watched Lucas walk away. She immediately felt the loss of his company, recalling how vulnerable she’d felt until his arrival only moments ago. He was back beside her within minutes with a smile on his face and a man leading a horse-drawn conveyance by the animal’s reins.
After seeing his trunk loaded in the back of the vehicle, Lucas tossed in Meghan’s small bundle, helped her into the carriage, and climbed in to sit beside her.
“How far is it to Somerville?” she asked, hiding her surprise that he would be driving.
“About twenty-five miles or so,” he told her. “We’ll travel some distance and then stop to eat at an inn.”
Meghan bit her lip. Twenty-five miles! Would they make it to Somerville this night? She had no money for dinner, and she didn’t want to take his charity. What if she needed a room?
Lucas glanced over at her and stared hard, before setting his gaze back on the road. “I can afford our dinner,” he said as if reading her mind.
Irish Linen Page 6
