Irish Linen

by Candace McCarthy

  “Where are Patty and the boys?” Meghan said as she hurried toward the open window. She breathed in a rush of fresh air, glad to escape the smoke.

  “Outside, I think,” Susan said. “It was James who warned us.”

  Once the smoke had cleared from the room, Meghan saw that there was plenty of moonlight to light the yard and outside wall.

  Priscilla sat on the bed, whimpering. Betsy perched on the edge beside her and placed an arm about the frightened girl.

  Meghan stuck her head out the window and examined the distance to the ground. This wasn’t her time to die, she thought. And she’d allow no fire to hurt her friends—or anyone she cared about ever again. She searched the room for a rope. There was none, but she had an idea.

  “Susan, pull off yer bed blankets,” she said, turning to capture the girl’s gaze. “We’ll knot them together and then tie them to—” She looked around the room. “—your dresser chest.”

  Susan stripped off two blankets while Betsy urged Priscilla up from the other bed so that they could do the same.

  The chilly night air seeped into the bedchamber, but Meghan didn’t feel the cold; her only concern was to get them all out of the house alive. The exterior walls of Patty’s house were granite, but the interior partitions and the ceiling were wood … fuel for the fire.

  Meghan knotted the ends of the blankets and then threw one end of the fabric chain through the window opening. The makeshift rope fell down the stone wall halfway to the ground.

  “It doesn’t reach!” Priscilla cried.

  “It will have to do,” Meghan said. “Who wants to be the first to go?” The smoke was thickening in the room as it came in through the thin crack under the door.

  None of the others wanted to go first. “I’ll go then,” Meghan said. “I’ll wait on the bottom and catch each one of ye when it’s yer turn.”

  Three feminine heads bobbed in unison as the women agreed.

  The floor beneath their feet, Meghan noticed, was starting to get warm. A dangerous sign that the fire was spreading. She took hold of the blanket rope and swung her leg over the windowsill. Next, she tugged once on the rope to see if it would hold, and then her gaze touched briefly on each friend.

  “Susan, Betsy, be ready to grab the dresser if it starts to move under me weight,” Meghan said. Her heart raced as she met each of her friends’ gazes.

  Susan nodded, and Meghan lowered herself outside, releasing her grip on the window edge. She hung suspended, her knees and elbows bumping against the warm stone. The temperature of the granite urged her to hurry, and Meghan loosened her grasp and slid down.

  When she reached the end of the chain, she gauged the distance to the ground and decided that the sixfoot drop wouldn’t kill her. She let go and fell.

  Betsy had cried out during Meghan’s final drop; Meghan experienced the bone-jarring impact through her entire body as she landed briefly on her feet and then her backside.

  “Meghan, are you all right?” Susan asked.

  The Irishwoman glanced up as she rose, stifling the urge to rub her behind. “I’m all right,” she called up, meaning it. Her gaze went to the lower level of the front of the house. Flames shot through the windows, lighting up the yard. “You’ll have to hurry,” she told her friends above. “Send Priscilla first—I’ll catch her.”

  The next moments seemed agonizingly long as they struggled to get Priscilla to hang on to the rope. Finally, Meghan lost her temper. “Damn it, lass! Do ye want to die?” she shouted.

  Priscilla whimpered but she grabbed the rope and climbed out of the window. She cried softly as she began to lower herself down.

  “I’ve got yer feet!” Meghan exclaimed. “Now let go!”

  The woman obeyed, and Meghan stumbled as she took Priscilla’s weight, but both girls remained unharmed. “All right! Who’s next?” Meghan asked.

  Susan urged Betsy to go; and as the young woman started down, James and his brothers came to help them. “Hurry, Bets!” Meghan urged.

  Susan’s descent happened soon after, and everyone was all right. The girls hugged and cried, and the boys urged them to leave the area of the building.

  They found Patty nearby at a neighbor’s house, wrapped in a blanket, shivering. Her expression was bleak as she stared at the burning house. She smiled, though, when she saw that everyone had escaped the fire without harm. Someone handed Meghan and the others blankets. Meghan accepted hers gratefully and wrapped it tightly about her shoulders.

  A fire brigade of men had formed at the other end of the house, but although they worked hard, handing buckets of water down the line to the burning porch, they were ineffective in saving Patty’s home.

  “Everyone’s fear now is that the fire will spread to the other houses,” James said to his mother. “I’m going to help the men, Ma.”

  Patty nodded, and all three of her sons went to help wet down the neighboring houses’ roofs.

  Everyone from the village had awakened and gathered to watch a friend’s home burn. It was a sobering experience for the Gibbons Mill residents.

  Meghan heard that someone had gone up to the big house to tell Mrs. Gibbons. Then, she heard the deep anxious timbre of Lucas’s voice.

  “Is everyone all right?” he asked one of Patty’s male neighbors.

  Shivering with reaction more than the cold, Meghan stood behind Patty and her neighbor, Mrs. Trill, with Susan, Betsy, and Priscilla.

  “Mrs. Rhoades.”

  “Mr. Ridgely,” Patty answered in a hoarse voice. “We’re all right. Everyone is all right.”

  “Thank God,” Meghan heard him say with feeling. He stared at the burning house. “We’ll rebuild for you,” he said. “You mustn’t worry.”

  “Thank you,” Patty said, then she began to cry. James, returning from the brigade, pulled his mother into his arms.

  It was then that Meghan saw Lucas anxiously searching the crowd. He turned in her direction. Their gazes locked, and his eyes glowed as he excused himself, pushing past Susan and Betsy to reach her side.

  “Meghan,” he muttered, and then uncaring of everyone around, he jerked her into his arms and held onto her trembling form tightly. “Oh, God, Meghan, I thought you had—” She felt him shudder and pressed against his chest, clutching his waist. She could hear his thundering heartbeat that matched her own. The rush of joy Meghan experienced made her head spin as she rested, cradled within his strong arms.

  After a long moment, Lucas set her back and peered into her face, his ebony gaze probing. “How did you get out?” he asked huskily.

  “There,” she said. “Through the window of Susan’s room.”

  “Good God,” he exclaimed when he looked to where she pointed.

  She smiled. “Aye, but we made it.”

  He nodded, and then his attention was taken by his aunt who had just come down the hill.

  “Lucas, dear God, how did this happen?” the woman exclaimed.

  Meghan was too busy studying Lucas to hear his answer. She gazed at his handsome face and fought the strongest desire to grab and kiss him. She’d never forget how wonderful—or right—it felt to be in his arms.

  “You have no idea how the fire started?” Flora Gibbons asked her nephew.

  Overhearing her, James turned from his mother’s side. “We found a lantern and an empty whiskey bottle by the kitchen door.”

  “You think it was set deliberately?” Lucas asked with a frown.

  The boy nodded, and Lucas promised to investigate the matter.

  “Patty, you all must come up to the house to stay,” Flora said.

  “I’ll take in Patty and the boys, Mrs. Gibbons,” Mrs. Trill offered.

  “Susan and Priscilla can stay with us!” said another woman.

  Mr. Jones said that although he had three daughters, he’d be able to take one of the two remaining girls.

  “Meghan will come with us then,” Lucas’s aunt said. “She’s employed as my seamstress, so it makes perfect sense.”


  “Then I’ll go with the Joneses,” Betsy said.

  The bedchamber Meghan was given was beautiful. She stepped into the room, and tears filled her eyes as she was hit by the magnitude of what she’d managed to escape.

  She saw the lovely green damask draperies and the green and ivory woven counterpane on the bed, and her tears increased, forming trails down her smokedarkened cheeks.

  “My cloak,” she gasped. “I’ve lost me beautiful green cloak.” It was the color of the room that made her think of the cloak.

  Aunt Flora, who had accompanied her to the room, made a clucking sound of concern. “I’m sure it can be replaced,” she said.

  But Meghan knew it couldn’t. How could she replace an item that had come to mean so much to her because it had been a gift … a treasured gift from Lucas? She’d lost some money, but she didn’t care.

  “You’ll want to get out of those dirty clothes,” Lucas’s aunt said.

  Meghan blushed as she nodded. What she must have smelled like to Lucas while he’d held her! Then, she recalled the way he’d kept her close and she no longer thought he’d noticed or cared that she reeked of smoke.

  “I’ll get you something to wear to bed,” Flora said kindly as she turned to leave.

  Meghan touched her arm. “Mrs. Gibbons—” She suffered a resurgence of fresh tears, and her throat closed up, making it difficult to speak.

  The woman seemed to understand. She gave Meghan a tender smile that brightened her dark gaze. “You’re welcome, dear.” She patted Meghan’s arm. “Now, don’t you worry about a thing. We’ll take care of things for you.”

  Touched by Flora’s caring, Meghan nodded.

  She’d barely turned to look for a washstand to bathe her face when Lucas knocked on the open door. He came to her immediately and caught her shoulders in a gentle grip.

  “Are you all right?” he rasped.

  “Aye.”

  He shuddered and closed his eyes before he released her. “Good.” Lucas glanced about as if to ensure that everything in the bedchamber met his approval. “I think you’ll be happy here. Beth usually sleeps in this room and she finds the bed quite comfortable—” He paused when he caught her staring. “What?” he said.

  Her lips quivered. “I lost me cloak. I’m sorry.”

  Lucas’s expression softened. “Oh, Meg.” He touched her cheek. “It’s all right—honestly.”

  She swallowed and nodded, but was unconvinced.

  “Here we are,” Flora announced as she entered the room. She seemed unsurprised to see Lucas. She crossed the room to where the couple stood and handed Meghan a white garment. “I think this will fit.”

  “Thank ye,” Meghan said hoarsely. She could feel Lucas stiffen beside her as if he’d just realized something unpleasant.

  “You’ve lost everything,” he said disbelievingly, as if he’d just become aware of the tragedy of the fire.

  “Aye.”

  “No, Lucas dear,” his aunt said. “She hasn’t lost everything. She has her life, her friends … and us. I think that’s plenty to be thankful for, don’t you?”

  Twenty-eight

  Smoke clogged Meghan’s throat, choking her. She sat up in bed, panicking when she couldn’t see.

  “Meghan! Ye must get out! Get out of the house now!”

  “Mother?”

  “Go, daughter!” her mother screamed.

  “Mother!”

  “I’m all right, Meggie. Go and save yerself. I’ll be right behind … as soon as I can come.”

  Heat seared Meghan’s face and hands. The fire licked at her nightdress, and she screamed, beating at the hem with her hands.

  “Meggie!”

  “Da!” She turned with joy toward her father’s voice. “I’m here, Da!”

  “Keep comin’, Meg. Ye’re all right, lass.”

  The heat was unbearable. The smoke stung her eyes, but she listened for her father’s encouraging words and obeyed him. Finally, she was outside in the night air with Da bending over her.

  “Where’s your mother, Meggie?” he demanded while she gasped for air.

  “Inside. Da—”

  “No!” he cried, and her gaze followed his to the house which was entirely engulfed in flames.

  Meghan started to run toward the entrance. “Ma!”

  ‘No, Meghan.“ Da rasped. “Ye cannot go in, lass.’ Tis too late.”

  “No!” she screamed. “No … No … No!”

  “Meghan!” The deep voice called her from the hells of her nightmare. “Meghan, love, wake up. It’s just a dream, sweetheart. A terrible dream …”

  Strong hands gripped her shoulders and gently lifted her.

  “Lucas?” she breathed, shuddering with the horror still fresh in her mind.

  “Yes, love,” he said softly. “It’s me.” A candle burned on her bed table, and the flame flickered, casting his features in soft light. He released her. With a wild cry, she flung herself into his arms, and he immediately embraced her, pulling her onto his lap.

  “ ‘Twas awful,” she sobbed, burrowing against his chest. “Our cottage was burning, just like before.” Her words were muffled against his bare skin.

  “Before?” He’d been stroking her back; his hand stilled. “At Patty’s?” he said.

  She pulled back and shook her head. “No,” she said. “Me cottage where I lived with me mother and father.”

  Surprise then distress crossed Lucas’s face. “This happened to you before?”

  She nodded, her eyes spilling tears. “Da and I—we made it out alive, but me mother—” She threw herself back against him, and Lucas held her tightly while making soothing sounds of sympathy.

  He kept her against him for a long time while she cried for all that had happened in her young life. She mourned again for her mother and father. She sobbed for the hurt she’d known at Rafferty’s betrayal.

  Meghan felt safe within Lucas’s arms, her wet cheek against his chest. As she hiccupped through the last of her tears, she became conscious of the warm, sleek skin and muscles of Lucas’s bare chest … of the strong legs that cradled her within his lap … and of the wonderful feeling of her arms wrapped about him with her hands at his back. A tingling began at the base of her neck and spread.

  “Lucas,” she whispered.

  He set her back to study her. What he saw must have mirrored his own thoughts, for he groaned and fastened his mouth to hers. She responded instantly, wildly; she’d wanted this kiss …

  Sensation shot through to her breasts, making them swell and her nipples harden. Lucas cupped her head as he worshiped her mouth and nibbled on her lower lips.

  “Open your mouth,” he whispered.

  When his lips touched hers, she obeyed immediately, moaning softly as he explored the inside of her mouth with his tongue. She imitated his actions, wanting to give him pleasure, and he made a strangled sound.

  Meghan gasped as he kissed her neck and trailed his lips down her throat.

  Lucas lifted his head and studied the trembling woman in his arms. “Dear God, woman, when I think of what could have happened to you in that fire!”

  She raised soft fingers to his lips. “I’m alive,” she murmured.

  “Yes,” he rasped. He kissed her and rose up to watch how her eyes dilated in the burning candlelight. His desire for her was thick and urgent, but he hadn’t come to seduce her, only to hold and comfort her.

  Her wild cries hadn’t awakened him, for he’d already been awake. He was unable to sleep with his thoughts of her. She touched him in a way that no other woman ever had before.

  He knew he should leave, but he couldn’t find the will or the energy. “Meghan, I should go—” He started to pull away.

  “No, Lucas,” she said. “Please stay … I need you.” She reached out for him. Her warmth and sweet scent radiated toward him, pulling him in.

  A shudder passed through him. With a guttural exclamation of need, he bent, recapturing her mouth, and the pulsing heat that g
athered blood between his thighs filled him until his whole body burned and hummed with feeling.

  Meghan closed her eyes as she felt the passion in the man who held her and experienced a growing urgency of her own. She slid her hands over Lucas’s chest, loving his sleek hardness, the heat of his skin. She welcomed his intermittent kisses, murmuring her pleasure as he alternately paid attention to her neck and her mouth. She loved his strength, his passionate tenderness.

  Her breasts grew hot and full as they pressed against her soft cotton nightgown. Warmth and a strange budding sensation tingled and throbbed in the most secret intimate area between her legs.

  “Lucas!” she gasped as he began to slowly untie the ribbons on her nightdress.

  He stopped and searched her gaze, apparently encouraged by what he saw for his fingers went to the button below the tie. After he had undone two buttons, he lifted her from his lap and stood her on the floor before him. His ebony gaze glowed hotly as it caressed her length before settling on her breasts.

  Meghan trembled as he settled his hands about her waist. The warmth of his fingers seared her beneath the fabric. She held her breath as he pulled her close and leaned forward to capture her breast with his mouth. Stars flashed behind her closed eyelids, stars and bright colored lights swirling about in a wild frenzy. “Lucas.”

  He released her breast and leaned back, gazing up at her with heavy-lidded passionate eyes. A pleased curve formed on his sensual lips. “Sweet,” he murmured. “So sweet …”

  She shivered as he bent to lavish attention to her other breast. Moisture gathered low, and she arched her back as she recognized the need there for Lucas’s touch. “Please, I—”

  “Sh … sh …” he soothed her, shifting her back so that he could rise.

  Meghan swallowed hard as he rose to his full height. His trousers rode low on his waist, and her gaze fell to his flat belly and then lower beyond the button closure. Prickles of awareness heightened her desire as she took note of the fabric taut over his thigh muscles. And then her interest followed down the length of his legs to his bare feet.

  Lucas had remained still while she studied him. When she lifted her eyes to meet his glittering gaze, she felt her cheeks warm, embarrassed that he’d noticed her appreciation of him.