She shook her head. “I’ve been saving it fine, Rafferty O’Connor. I don’t need ye to keep it.” What she didn’t leave on account at the mill, she’d stashed beneath her mattress at Patty’s. Why was she uncomfortable with the idea of spending her money on a cottage with Rafferty? She’d known all along that she’d be sharing his home some day.
Lucas Ridgely invaded her thoughts. Since she’d begun work at the house, she’d seen him daily and herlove for him had grown … while her feelings for Rafferty had … changed.
“I’ll be here next Saturday as usual, Meghan.”
She bristled. “No, Rafferty.”
Her fiancé’s hands tightened on the horse’s reins. Studying his whitened fists, Meghan had the feeling that Rafferty would like to reach over and shake her. “I’ll be ready a week from Saturday,” she told him. She didn’t suggest he come to visit her before then, although he could have if he’d wanted badly enough to see her. But she was irritated with him, and something had happened between them the previous evening that had scared and appalled her and made her want to put some distance between them for a long while.
Last night, Rafferty had kissed her, but he’d tried to touch her breasts, too, and—God help her—she’d struggled. She hadn’t wanted Rafferty’s touch. She hadn’t even wanted his kiss, let alone for him to paw at her the way he’d done! Rafferty had been furious with her, but she didn’t care.
“Good night, Rafferty.” She climbed down from the carriage. As usual Rafferty made no move to help her as Lucas did. Which was just as well, she thought, given the way she was feeling at present.
“Aren’t ye going to kiss me?” he asked angrily.
Meghan ignored him as if she hadn’t heard as she walked to the door of Patty’s boardinghouse.
“It’s been over four months since yer da died, Meghan,” he said. “It’s high time we marry!” He’d shouted his last words, which sounded too much like a threat to Meghan.
With a loudly muttered curse that made Meghan’s face flush with anger, Rafferty flicked the reins and drove the carriage away.
Meghan stood on the porch before entering the house. I can’t marry him, she thought.
“Meghan? Is that you?” Patty came out of the kitchen with a warm smile of greeting that died upon seeing the young woman’s face. “What is it?” she asked with concern.
Tired, Meghan shook her head. “It … it’s not something I can talk about yet.”
Patty didn’t appear offended. “Well, you come into the other room and join us. We’re about to taste a new cake receipt I’ve tried.”
“Thank ye, that’d be nice,” she replied, one corner of her mouth lifting in a slightly crooked smile.
But after she’d taken several steps, Meghan felt as if her limbs were leaden. She was tired of worrying about her life. She’d not slept in Somerville, not with Miss Doddleberry’s snores, which had been horrendous with an infection of the woman’s nasal passages.
“Patty,” she called softly. “I think I’ll go up to bed, if you don’t mind. I’m not feeling up to cake, I’m afraid.”
The woman nodded with understanding. “You look to need sleep.” Her gray gaze held concern. “Go on up then,” she said. “I’ll make your excuses to the others.”
Meghan murmured her thanks and then made the long, arduous journey up two flights of stairs. In her attic room, she undressed, lay on the bed, and closed her eyes. Her muscles throbbed. Her thoughts spun with images that confused and disturbed her. The memory of Rafferty’s behavior as he’d tried to fumble beneath her bodice to fondle her breasts made her shudder with revulsion.
Don’t think of him. She thought of Lucas’s kisses instead … how they made her feel warm and fuzzy inside … not chilled and … unclean.
“I can’t marry Rafferty O’Connor,” she whispered into the dark attic room.
It no longer seemed to matter about Lucas’s offer to make her his mistress. Her decision was based on her feelings—or lack of—for Rafferty alone.
I’ve enough money saved to pay Rafferty for me voyage and me clothes. Somehow I’ll pay him back for Da’s passage, too. But I’ll not stay and marry him, simply because I’m grateful for what he’s done.
Suddenly, she remembered Lucas’s words. “It’s not gratitude I want from you, Meghan …”
He wanted her still. And Lord help her, she wanted him and loved him.
She’d have to be content to live alone.
By the time Saturday evening came and she’d joined the others at the dinner table at Patty’s, Meghan felt edgy. Now that she’d made her decision to end her betrothal to Rafferty, she valued her employment as a lifeline. Fortunately, Flora Gibbons seemed to have a great deal of work to keep her busy, but what would happen once Mrs. Gibbons ran out of things for her to sew? Would she be allowed to return to the mill?
“Is Rafferty coming tonight?” Susan asked pleasantly.
“I hope not,” Meghan replied without thinking.
Susan stopped and regarded her friend with surprise.
Meghan flushed as she realized that everyone at the table was staring at her. “Have ye forgotten that I’ve work to do at Mrs. Gibbons’s?”
“Oh, yes, you told me, I forgot.”
But Meghan thought she’d heard disappointment in her friend’s tone, so she cornered her alone after dinner to question Susan about it.
“Ye don’t like Rafferty O’Connor, do ye,” she asked as she found Susan in her room. The young woman seemed hesitant to answer as she stood at the window, gazing out into the night. “Susan, please … tell me.”
Susan turned to regard her with a sober expression. “No, I can’t say I have a liking for the man.”
Meghan raised her eyebrows. “Why?” She’d never given thought to how her friends felt about her fiancé. She’d been too busy struggling with her own mixed feelings. Did they all feel the same way?
“You don’t seem angry,” Susan said with a glimmer of surprise.
“No, I …” Meghan’s voice trailed off, and she looked away. “How can I be angry when I feel the same way?”
Susan’s startled gasp brought Meghan’s head around. “You don’t care for the man, but you’re going to marry him?”
Meghan grabbed her friend’s arm as she heard voices from the stairs. “Please,” she begged, “not so loud. I don’t want the others to know yet.”
The woman blinked. “Okay,” she said, as she regarded her friend strangely. “Now would you please explain?”
Meghan had to smile. Susan sounded excited that she was the one whom Meghan had chosen to confide in. “I’ve decided not to marry him,” she admitted after a brief hesitation.
“You have!” Susan burst out.
Meghan hushed her, and the young woman apologized to her friend.
“Aye,” Meghan said. “He is … well—changed. It’s been over two years since we became betrothed, but he and I hadn’t seen each other for most of that time.” The voices outside the room receded as the women went back downstairs.
Her thoughts turned inward with old memories. “He seemed a different man when Da was alive. Rafferty was full of ambition … of life. He had such wonderful plans, ye see.” She came out of her reverie with a smile for Susan. “I’ve never met a more solid and dependable man as Rafferty O’Connor—except Da, of course.” Something twisted inside her as she recalled the months of struggling to find food. “When our potato crop failed us again, we went hungry. Many of our people gave up hope. Children sickened and died … men and women, too …” She felt her throat tighten. “We’d been eating roots, berries, and cabbage leaves, but soon they’d disappeared.”
She turned pain-stricken eyes on her friend. “Do ye know what ‘tis like to see the people ye’ve known and loved all of yer youth naked and filthy, when they weren’t dressed in rags? To watch a mother cling to her dead child, both of them looking like skeletons?” Meghan choked back a sob. “Dear God, I hope to never see or know the likes of such again.
Every day I pray for those who stayed behind, knowing that if it hadn’t been for Rafferty O’Connor, I’d still be there just like the rest of them … sick or dead … and with the Sasanaigh uncaring as long as they continued to take our grain.”
“Oh, Meghan …” Susan’s eyes filled with tears as she caught Meghan’s hand. “I’m so sorry.”
Meghan tried to smile. “There was Rafferty, ye see,” she said with a soft expression. “He never gave up hope that our lives could be better. He was fighting angry, he was. Swore no Sax’n was going to lay him low. He’d find a way to get to America, he said.” She released a shuddering sigh. “He promised to send for us—me and Da—once he had the funds.” She paused. “And he did.”
Susan’s features reflected her understanding of Meghan’s current situation. “You’re grateful to him.”
“Aye.” Meghan dabbed at the corner of each eye with her finger. “I’m grateful to Rafferty O’Connor, and when I began to have doubts about us, I kept remembering my gratitude.” She closed her eyes. “But is gratitude alone enough for a lasting marriage?”
Susan shook her head. “No,” she said. “Although there are some who have married for less.”
“And were happy?” Meghan probed with the intensity of needing to know.
“Perhaps,” the other woman said. “But I know I wouldn’t be,” she added.
“No,” Meghan agreed. “I think I wouldn’t be happy either.”
“So you’ve decided to break your engagement.”
Meghan nodded. Break, she thought with a pang. Would she be breaking Rafferty’s heart when she finally told him?
“You feel terrible about it,” Susan said as she gave Meghan’s arm a gentle squeeze meant to comfort.
“Aye. Wouldn’t ye feel the same?”
Susan’s mouth firmed. “About Rafferty O’Connor? No.”
Meghan stared at her, shocked. “Why?”
“Because he’s treated you appallingly, Meghan McBride. You’ve been so busy being grateful to him that you’ve been blind to his behavior toward you!”
“I—” Meghan bit her lip. “Ye are right,” she said with a tired sigh.
“When will you tell him?”
“He’ll be coming for me next Saturday. I suppose I’ll tell him then.”
“No,” Susan said. “You must tell him before that. Why suffer another week of worrying when you can get the deed done with sooner?”
“I guess I could go Sunday evening.”
But Susan shook her head. “We can go on Monday. It’s the easiest day in the dressing room, and I’ll be able to leave early.” The woman’s lips twisted. “I suppose there’s one good thing to working there.”
“We?” Meghan said as she realized that her friend had included herself.
“You don’t think I’d let you travel to Somerville alone, do you?” Susan replied, and Meghan experienced a rush of affection for the girl. “Quick goodbyes are always best. I’ll wait in the carriage for you.”
Aye, Meghan thought. Quick goodbyes are always best. Her heart thumped with pain. Then why couldn’t she follow that advice when it came to Lucas?
Because although she knew that the time spent in his company was a long farewell to the man she loved, she wanted to experience … to have something to remember … for those lonely nights when finally she’d be left all alone.
Rafferty gripped the jar of licorice drops fiercely, before he slammed it onto the counter. “Damn her,” he muttered. He had an ache in his loins for Meghan McBride that had become obsessive.
He’d wanted her from the first signs of her budding womanhood, but he’d done the honorable thing and waited, because she was the daughter of his best friend.
He’d been nervous when he’d asked her to marry him, surprised when she’d agreed.
“Ye’re dragging yer feet, Meggie love,” he said with a sneer. “I’ll not be put off much longer!”
Alicia Somerton had become whiny of late. Apparently, someone else had seen him leaving the Somerton residence at an unusual hour and had mentioned the fact to her husband Michael. She’d managed toallay Michael’s suspicions with the excuse of Rafferty having delivered some supplies. Her husband had seemed satisfied with her answer, but Alicia was now nervous.
Although she found Meghan annoying, Alicia wanted Rafferty to marry his fiancée soon.
“I’d hate for Michael to learn about us, darling,” she’d purred as she’d stroked his chest after the last time they’d been together. “You and I are good together—you’re so creative—but until you and Meghan are safely married, I think it best if we suffer a separation.”
His anger roiled in his gut until he recalled the pleasurable satisfaction he’d felt with what had followed their conversation … in Alicia’s bed.
He enjoyed his employer’s wife. Who wouldn’t relish bedding a lust-inciting, earthy wanton? As much as he loved to futter Alicia, he knew she was right to part company for a while. But without Alicia to sexually excite and appease him, his yearning for Meghan had increased to an agonizing, stiff bulge beneath his trousers.
His shaft got hard just thinking about Meghan’s breasts. His hand cupped his crotch to ease the throbbing. He closed his eyes and saw himself sucking her nipples as he thrust between Meghan’s open thighs.
The bell on the shop door rang, and he glanced toward the entrance. Mrs. John edged inside, her gaze noting him before sliding away.
Rafferty squeezed his crotch before releasing himself. It was early morning, the wrong time for what he had in mind, but he didn’t care. “Good day to ye, Mrs. John,” he said. “Top of the mornin’ to ya.”
The woman’s head bobbed as she nodded. She looked as if she’d skitter away at the least little provocation.
“Can I help ye with something?” He came from behind the counter, his trousers taut over his pulsing cod.
“I …” She glanced down his length and, with a small gasp, looked away.
Rafferty came to her quickly, encircling her shoulders with his arm. “No need to run, Mrs. John.” His breath rasped as he stared at her breasts. Such small breasts to nip and bite and rub hard with his hands, he thought. He imagined the breasts belonged to Meghan. “Ye look lovely this day,” he said hoarsely.
“Please,” she whispered.
He spun her to face him. “Please, Mrs. John?” He grinned as he studied her quivering mouth. “As pleased ya when I turned a blind eye to yer husband’s debt?”
Fear flashed in her eyes, but she didn’t pull away.
“I hear yer boy’s sick, Mrs. John.”
She nodded.
“I’ve a new candy treat in stock. Perhaps the boy would like one?”
Mrs. John swallowed and shook her head, and he tightened his grip on her shoulders. “Not even a wee one?” he asked.
“Yes,” she breathed.
His gaze rose to her hair, and he lifted a hand to stroke the brown strands. “Good.” His fingers slid down her face and throat, and then hovered for a heartbeat over her bodice. “Now how much did ye say ye had to spend?”
“I … I don’t—”
“No need to fret, Mrs. John,” he purred. “We’re friends, aren’t we? Good friends, I’d even say. I’ll give ya the candy for yer boy.”
Mrs. John inhaled sharply as he cupped her breast and began to worry the tip with his finger to make the nipple harden
“Thank you, Mr. O’Connor,” she said meekly.
“You’re quite welcome, Meggie,” he said. And he released her to lock the store entrance.
Twenty-two
Lucas came into the sitting room and paused inside the doorway to study Meghan. The young woman was bent over her sewing, her features taut with concentration. She looks tired, he thought. Something wrenched in his gut as he noticed how slowly she plied her needle. When she turned to grab a new piece of thread, he saw the dark circles under her blue eyes.
He’d been gone only a week. Why did it seem as if he’d been gone for several?<
br />
Because you missed her, a tiny voice inside him whispered, giving him a jolt.
Seeing her again was a feeling unlike any other. He felt alive and at peace … and what? In lust? No, he realized with a frown, because he was concerned that Meghan was overworked. There was more to his feelings for her than lust. He cared for the woman. And it was that thought that frightened him, because like his father, it made him vulnerable to pain.
Meghan sighed and paused in her stitching to arch and stretch her back muscles. She grimaced, stood, and turned at the waist. She froze as her gaze collided with Lucas Ridgely.
“Meghan.”
“Lucas,” she breathed, “you’re back.”
He nodded as he approached. “You look tired.” He stopped when he was within a few feet.
“I’m all right.” She hadn’t felt all right, Meghan thought, until just a moment ago when she’d realized that he’d returned. A pain lodged beneath her breast bone. “Did your trip go well?” It was crazy, she knew, but she’d been more than a little upset to learn that he’d gone back to Kent County without telling her a word.
“Beth’s leg is healing nicely. The doctor—”
“Your sister was injured?” she asked, unable to contain her curiosity.
He frowned. “My aunt didn’t tell you?”
She shook her head, and the furrow between Lucas’s brow deepened. “I told her to let you know,” he told her quietly.
Her heart rejoiced. “I guess she didn’t think it was important for me to know.”
He narrowed his eyes. “I specifically mentioned you.”
Meghan could see the muscle along one side of his jaw tick as anger lit up his dark eyes. She shrugged to make light of his aunt’s mistake.
Suddenly, Lucas’s features softened. “Did you think I’d forgotten you?” His voice was soft, tender, filling Meghan with a longing so poignant it made her want to cry out and confess her love for him. But she didn’t speak.
“Meghan?”
“Aye.”
Irish Linen Page 19
