Irish Linen (6 page)

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 levies, 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.

She raised her chin. “I’ll repay you,” she said. She looked ahead, firming her lips.

“Don’t be absurd.”

She turned to glare at him. “I’ll not take your charity again, Mr. Ridgely.”

He scowled at her. “The cloak wasn’t charity, Meghan. It was a gift.”

After several seconds of thought, she nodded and relaxed. “Thank ye.”

“Now was that so hard?” he asked. A smile played about his sensual lips as he returned his attention to the horse. “Let me buy you dinner, because it pleases me to do so.”

“You’re very kind,” she mumbled beneath her breath.

Lucas chuckled. “I heard that.” He flashed her a grin. “It’s easy to be kind to you, Miss McBride,” he said, much to her pleasure.

They left the city streets for a bumpy country road that wound its way through fields and woods that had already taken on the rich hues of autumn. Meghan thought of the bustling dock in Philadelphia and decided she liked this scenery more.

The muddy and rutted condition of the road made their pace slower than Meghan thought was necessary if they were to reach Somerville that evening. She glanced at Lucas and saw from his frowning concentration that he seemed concerned, too.

But still the time and distance passed pleasantly until the sun set and the sky began to darken. Declaring that it was the supper hour, Lucas steered the carriage through a huge dip in the mud into the yard of a roadside inn. Meghan was glad, for her stomach was beginning to churn with hunger. Or was she nervous at the thought of not continuing the journey?

As Lucas helped her step down from the vehicle’s
step, Meghan eyed the old building with curiosity and pleasure. The public house was obviously a structure from another time. Built of stone, the building appeared to have been added to, as evidenced by the separate entranceway with its own porch and the different roof level of the edifice attached to the main house’s left side. The inn was quaint and welcomed Meghan as she absorbed the scenic beauty of a house nestled among trees bright with the season’s reds and yellows. Boxwoods planted near the two porches filled the air with their pungent, pleasant scent.