climbed out with the vital area of her shirt still dry as a bone and no one the wiser as to her sex.
"Ready?"
"Aye."
Trailing a small rainstorm of droplets, soaked to the skin but for that one exception, she and Willie sloshed toward the back of the house.
A heavyset woman with a round, red face made even redder by the whiteness of the crisp mobcap above it stood on the stoop, berating the three younger d'Arcys as Caitlyn and Willie approached. Her arms were folded over her ample bosom, and the expression on her face was clearly one of displeasure. A shapeless black dress covered her from neck to ankles. Her features were as large and heavy as a man's, with deep wrinkles creasing her cheeks. Strands of iron-gray hair showed around the edges of her cap.
"I'd take shame on meself, ye rapscallions, makin' his lordship wait on his supper. Get some dry clothes on now, and get inside. 'Tis on the table." She looked up and saw Caitlyn and Willie. "You two new lads, I'm thinkin' you can wear some old clothes of Cormac's. They're here." She indicated two of the small piles of clothes she evidently had just brought to the stoop. "They might be somewhat large, but you'll have to make do. You'll eat in the house tonight. Tomorrow you start supping with the O'Learys. Mrs. O'Leary feeds the bachelor men for a coin or two."
"Yes'm," Willie said, cleaiiy awed by the large, bossy woman.
Caitlyn frowned. She saw a terrible dilemma facing her. She couldn't don dry clothes here and now. . . .
The woman turned and went back inside the house.
"That was Mrs. McFee," Liam explained. "Anything that upsets Connor upsets her twice as much."
Cormac and Rory were already shucking off their wet clothes. Willie followed suit more slowly, not used to tak- ing off his clothes down to his skin. Caitlyn turned her eyes from the sight of the three naked and near naked males, and sat down plop on the lower step.
"What're you waiting on, O'Malley?" Liam addressed her impatiently.
"I'll not be changing. These clothes'11 dry." She said it without looking at him. She couldn't be quite sure, but she didn't think his brothers had yet put on their breeches. As she had discovered in her years of imposture, the bare male arse was not a pretty sight. She had no desire to see Cormac's, or Rory's, or anyone else's.
"Hey, Rory, did you hear that? He's shy!" Cormac chortled. Despite her fears, he already had his breeches on and was pulling on his shirt. Caitlyn knew, because the sound of him laughing at her again had swiveled her head on her shoulders to fix him with a ferocious glare before she considered the ramifications. Fortunately, there were not any. All four males were at least minimally decent.
Rory looked up from buttoning the last button on his breeches. A grin split his face. "Shy, is he? You got something we've not seen before, O'Malley?"
"Maybe he's got two!"
"Or maybe it's so small that he's ashamed to let it out!"
"You can't eat in wet clothes, O'Malley. Mrs. McFee won't let you into the house." Liam's voice was reasonable.
"The clothes ain't bad, O'Malley, truly. Look at me." Willie had pulled on a pair of Cormac's too-big breeches and shirt. He was rolling up the legs of the breeches as he spoke. All of the younger d'Arcy brothers topped both Willie and Caitlyn by more than a head, but Cormac was the shortest and slightest of the three. Nevertheless, his breeches and shirt were still miles too big for Willie, who was about the same height and weight as Caitlyn.
"I'll not be changing." Her eyes were as uncompromising as her voice as she fixed die gang of them with a challenging stare.
Liam shrugged. "Suit yourself. You'll miss supper, but that's your loss, not ours."
"I'll not be changing."
"Fair enough. The rest of you, come on in and let's eat. There's work to do after the meal.
O'Malley, since you're not hungry, you can start unloading the cart. Most of it's for the sheep barn, feed and such. The sheep barn's the one furthest from
"Ready?"
"Aye."
Trailing a small rainstorm of droplets, soaked to the skin but for that one exception, she and Willie sloshed toward the back of the house.
A heavyset woman with a round, red face made even redder by the whiteness of the crisp mobcap above it stood on the stoop, berating the three younger d'Arcys as Caitlyn and Willie approached. Her arms were folded over her ample bosom, and the expression on her face was clearly one of displeasure. A shapeless black dress covered her from neck to ankles. Her features were as large and heavy as a man's, with deep wrinkles creasing her cheeks. Strands of iron-gray hair showed around the edges of her cap.
"I'd take shame on meself, ye rapscallions, makin' his lordship wait on his supper. Get some dry clothes on now, and get inside. 'Tis on the table." She looked up and saw Caitlyn and Willie. "You two new lads, I'm thinkin' you can wear some old clothes of Cormac's. They're here." She indicated two of the small piles of clothes she evidently had just brought to the stoop. "They might be somewhat large, but you'll have to make do. You'll eat in the house tonight. Tomorrow you start supping with the O'Learys. Mrs. O'Leary feeds the bachelor men for a coin or two."
"Yes'm," Willie said, cleaiiy awed by the large, bossy woman.
Caitlyn frowned. She saw a terrible dilemma facing her. She couldn't don dry clothes here and now. . . .
The woman turned and went back inside the house.
"That was Mrs. McFee," Liam explained. "Anything that upsets Connor upsets her twice as much."
Cormac and Rory were already shucking off their wet clothes. Willie followed suit more slowly, not used to tak- ing off his clothes down to his skin. Caitlyn turned her eyes from the sight of the three naked and near naked males, and sat down plop on the lower step.
"What're you waiting on, O'Malley?" Liam addressed her impatiently.
"I'll not be changing. These clothes'11 dry." She said it without looking at him. She couldn't be quite sure, but she didn't think his brothers had yet put on their breeches. As she had discovered in her years of imposture, the bare male arse was not a pretty sight. She had no desire to see Cormac's, or Rory's, or anyone else's.
"Hey, Rory, did you hear that? He's shy!" Cormac chortled. Despite her fears, he already had his breeches on and was pulling on his shirt. Caitlyn knew, because the sound of him laughing at her again had swiveled her head on her shoulders to fix him with a ferocious glare before she considered the ramifications. Fortunately, there were not any. All four males were at least minimally decent.
Rory looked up from buttoning the last button on his breeches. A grin split his face. "Shy, is he? You got something we've not seen before, O'Malley?"
"Maybe he's got two!"
"Or maybe it's so small that he's ashamed to let it out!"
"You can't eat in wet clothes, O'Malley. Mrs. McFee won't let you into the house." Liam's voice was reasonable.
"The clothes ain't bad, O'Malley, truly. Look at me." Willie had pulled on a pair of Cormac's too-big breeches and shirt. He was rolling up the legs of the breeches as he spoke. All of the younger d'Arcy brothers topped both Willie and Caitlyn by more than a head, but Cormac was the shortest and slightest of the three. Nevertheless, his breeches and shirt were still miles too big for Willie, who was about the same height and weight as Caitlyn.
"I'll not be changing." Her eyes were as uncompromising as her voice as she fixed die gang of them with a challenging stare.
Liam shrugged. "Suit yourself. You'll miss supper, but that's your loss, not ours."
"I'll not be changing."
"Fair enough. The rest of you, come on in and let's eat. There's work to do after the meal.
O'Malley, since you're not hungry, you can start unloading the cart. Most of it's for the sheep barn, feed and such. The sheep barn's the one furthest from
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