Irish Lace
by Candace McCarthy[ Romance ]
Eager to escape a bleak future in famine-ridden Ireland, Kathleen Maguire accompanies her cousin, Meara, to America, where her fiancé awaits. But on the voyage, Meara falls in love with another, leaving Kathleen to tell Rian Quaid that his bride-to-be has jilted him. Desperate and nearly destitute, Kathleen undertakes a bold deception by letting Rian believe that she is Meara. Now, as she loses her heart to handsome, honorable Rian, Kathleen realizes that the truth may steal her happiness away. Rian's bitter experience with his father's second marriage has made him none-too-eager to wed-especially not to a woman betrothed to him in childhood. And yet, when he meets his lovely "intended" at the port of Baltimore, he is startled by his own desire. With each passing day, his passion for her grows, until all he can see is the perfect bliss he has found in her arms. But when his beloved new wife's secret is exposed-will it shatter their blossoming love?
eBook Publisher: E-Reads, 2005
Prologue
County Clare, Ireland
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1835
"Meara Kath-leen! Meara Kath-leen!" Rian Quaid taunted her as she passed where he sat on a rock, throwing stones into a stream.
The red-haired girl froze and turned to him with a scowl. "Don't call me that!" she cried. She was younger than he by four years, but still Rian liked to irk her.
"Why not? 'Tis yer name," he insisted. "Meara Kath-leen Dunne."
"Stop it!" Her elfin face puckered into a pout. "I don't like it. I'm Meara. Only Meara."
"Well, I've a fondness fer Meara Kathleen, and I'll call ya by that name if I want!"
"I hate ya, Rian Quaid." Blue eyes flashing her fury, Meara crossed her arms and glared at him. "You're an awful beast. I hate ya!"
Fifteen-year-old Rian smiled with a sureness that unsettled her. "Nay, ya don't hate me, Meara Kathleen."
"I do!" she insisted.
He raised an eyebrow. "'Tis a pity, then, isn't it? Fer it doesn't bode well fer us, does it, Meara Kathleen, since we're to be wed someday."
"Wed ya!" she exclaimed. "Never! I'll never have ya to be me husband."
"'Tis not what Da says." He turned from her to pick up another stone, tossing it into the water and watching its splash create ripples. He swung back to her with a smile. "Our granddas want us to marry."
Disturbed, she hugged herself with her arms. Nay, she thought, shaking her head. But Rian Quaid was entirely too smug. Meara narrowed her gaze. What did he know that she didn't? Grandda wouldn't do such a thing. Would he?
They were in the field on her father's land, not far from the family manor house. Rian's family had come to pay a visit. Rian, his father, and Michael Quaid's English wife. It was true that their grandfathers were friends, had been for years. But surely they didn't hope for more.
A connection between their families, perhaps? a little voice inside jeered at her.
"Nay," she murmured, aware that Rian continued to study her with those disturbing green eyes of his. She raised her chin, refusing to be intimidated by him ... refusing to believe him.
"You're wrong, Rian Quaid," she said. "Grandda would never do such a thing without askin' first." She didn't like Rian Quaid. She didn't! She didn't like his grin or the intent way he watched her all the time. He was entirely too good-looking to be humble.
Rian's green eyes caught hers, held her mesmerized so that she couldn't look away. He bothered her, but she wouldn't let him see. His gaze made her feel jittery inside, a sensation that frightened her. He bothered her, but she wouldn't let him know.
"Nay, we'll not be wed," she whispered.
"We'll see, Meara Kathleen," he said, his voice soft and confident, his green eyes gleaming. "Believe me or not, it matters little, fer you'll see soon enough." Then he grinned as he added, "Meara Kathleen."
His answer shook her to the core.
