Irish Linen Read Free

She gasped and jerked away, her eyes wide with fear.
    He watched her expression change as her nightmare receded and she realized who he was. He was strangely pleased to see her look of fear vanish. It meant that she trusted him.
    “I’m sorry.” Her voice was husky. “I couldn’t help remembering …”
    “Don’t think of it. You’re safe now, and Ned Fellows won’t bother you again.”
    She gave a weak smile. “I don’t know how to show me gratitude.”
    “You can tell me your name.”
    Her lashes fluttered against her pale cheeks. “Meghan,” she said, offering him her hand. “Meghan McBride.”
    Lucas rose to his feet and took her hand, frowningwhen he felt its coldness. He rubbed it to restore warmth. She had small hands, feminine … hands that had known work. “Meghan McBride,” he murmured. He chafed her palm until he felt heat, and then turned his attention to its mate. “You feel like ice. You’ll be lucky if you don’t sicken.”
    He heard a sharp inhalation of breath and saw her face change as if she’d just realized that he had no shirt. Wariness entered her expression, and she pulled free of his grasp.
    “I won’t hurt you, Meghan,” he said softly. He gave her a reassuring smile. He offered her his hand again. “I’m Lucas Ridgely.”
    She stared at his extended hand before she met his gaze. After a moment of hesitation, she shook his hand.
    “I don’t know what I’d have done if ye hadn’t—” She choked up, her blue eyes misting. She blinked several times against tears.
    “Don’t think about it.” He turned away to pull on his shirt. Then, he grabbed a green garment from the bunk and turned to find her staring. She looked away as he approached.
    “You need to get out of those wet clothes.” He thought that his voice sounded unusually brusque.
    Startled, she raised her gaze. Her expression changed as she studied the cloak, and the meaning of his words registered. She nodded. Accepting the garment with a murmur of thanks, she stood and laid it over the back of the chair.
    Meghan started to unwrap the now damp blanket and then froze as if suddenly self-conscious.
    “I’ll take that,” Lucas said. He extended his hand for the blanket.
    She took off her shawl and then paused in the actof unbuttoning the front of her worn gown to meet Lucas’s gaze warily.
    Realization dawned. He set the blanket on the bunk. “I’ll wait outside,” he said, moving toward the cabin door. “Will you be all right?” At her nod, he left the room.
    Meghan’s fingers shook with cold as she unbuttoned her wet garment. She could feel her bruised flesh as she took off her gown, but left on her damp shift. A quick examination brought to light several bruises made by the mate’s hand; the areas felt tender to the touch.
    She reached for the cloak, and Meghan made a sound of pleasure as she held up the garment for inspection. She’d never seen or felt a garment so fine. It was heavy and well made with a hood, a shade of green darker than the rolling hills of her homeland.
    Raising the cloak to lift over her head, Meghan stumbled and nearly fell. She lowered the weighty garment before she struggled to raise it again., She was so tired that her arms felt leaden.
    The woolen folds fell about her head and shoulders, trapping her for a moment, making it difficult to breathe. She cried out at the lack of air, reliving the terror of Ned Fellows crushing her beneath his weight, stealing her breath. She panicked and fought to be free of her fabric prison. Fear lent her new strength, and she managed to pull off the cloak. Clutching it to her breasts, she closed her eyes and inhaled fresh air until she felt calmness return to her.
    Shivering, Meghan opened her eyes and then gasped. During her attack of panic, Lucas had silently reentered the cabin. She was instantly aware that she stood scantily clad in her thread-worn shift. Heat infused her from head to toe. She clutched the cloaktighter and raised it to