The Irish Upstart (17 page)

She flicked a glance toward Lord Thomas, having to admit that since they’d been on the road this morning, he had been courteous, kind, and most patient with Patrick, even when the child asked a dozen questions all in a row.

“
Lord Thomas, do we get the horses for free?
”
Patrick was asking now. They were heading for Athlone, having just started down the road again after a stop at a posting station for fresh horses.

“
No, we must pay for them,
”
he answered, his eyes attentive on the narrow, bumpy road ahead as he guided the two bays. Noting the easy, self-confident way he handled the reins, she had to admit he had a ruggedness and vital power about him, and a toughness that could not have been gleaned from leading a dandy’s frivolous life in London. So far on this journey, he had been rather distant, which was as it should be. She didn’t want to get too close. Still, she was curious about the man and couldn’t resist remarking,
“
You look as if you’ve spent much time with horses.
”

He glanced to where she sat on the seat beside him and replied,
“
I’ve just returned from managing a sugar plantation in Jamaica for three years. I practically lived on the back of a horse.
”

“
How you must have missed the delights of London.
”

“
Hardly.
”
He gave her an odd glance, raising an eyebrow.
“
I leave the delights of London to my brother.
”

Surprising. She wanted to ask more, but Patrick spoke up again. When would he be quiet?
“
Lord Thomas, how much does it cost for the horses?
”

“
One shilling six pence a mile, paid for the horses, and six pence to the postboy.

“
Why didn’t you hire a coach?
”

“
There’s only the three of us. A curricle is sufficient.
”

Thomas was forced to veer to the side of the narrow road as a coach and four came thundering by, the coachman, whip in hand, riding high and haughty in the seat box atop.

“
I think I should like to be a coachman when I grow up,
”
Patrick announced.
“
I think it would be great fun. I’d feel like the king of all I surveyed.
”

Evleen and Thomas exchanged amused glances.
“
That's an admirable ambition, Patrick,
”
Thomas said thoughtfully,
“
but you had best wait to decide. You might find being a lord and managing a vast estate will take much of your time.
”

“
Will we get clear to Dublin today?
”

“
I think not,
”
Thomas replied patiently.
“
Tonight we shall stay at an inn in Athlone.
”

An inn? Evleen felt definitely uncomfortable at the thought. In all the excitement, and agony of parting, she had not given any thought to the journey itself when here she would be, alone, except for her little brother, in the middle of nowhere, with this tough, attractive man and he... what? Timothy had warned her about his intentions, but as far as she could tell, Lord Thomas was treating her with politeness and that was all. No wonder, she thought glumly. This man came from a world where women adorned themselves in satins, silks, and laces; where they had lady’s maids to coif their hair and iron their gowns; where they would consider themselves disgraced if ever they had to lift a finger to do for themselves.
What must he think of me?
Evleen uncurled her strong, slim fingers and surreptitiously examined her hands. True, they were tidy and neatly kempt, yet they didn’t have the pampered softness of a lady’s hands. Tending the garden most definitely did not help, she thought, bemused, nor did cooking, or scrubbing the floors.

No wonder Lord Thomas was being only merely polite. He must think of her, if he thought of her at all, as just another poor Irish peasant, so totally beyond the realm of his privileged world that he hardly recognized her as a genuine human being. Doubtless he was counting the hours until this onerous favor he was doing for his father’s friend was completed and he could get back to... his betrothed, perhaps? Or, like so many men, did he have an arrangement? Perhaps not, if he’d just returned from Jamaica. She smiled to herself, thinking how she would love to ask,
oh, by the way, Lord Thomas, do you have a mistress?

She caught herself, and wondered why on earth she was bothering to speculate upon the love life of an Englishman.
He can have a dozen mistresses, it’s fine with me
, she thought, glaring at him. She caught herself again and silently laughed. If the man had seen the resentful glance she’d thrown him, he would not have the faintest idea what she was thinking.

Lord Thomas pointed to the south.
“
Patrick, there’s an old monastic site not far from here called Clonmacnoise. It dates clear back to the sixth century.
”

“
Can we see it?
”
asked Patrick, instantly alert.

Lord Thomas glanced at Evleen.
“
Shall we? It should not take long. We can take the Marconi Coach road that passes close to Clonmacnoise. The boy would enjoy seeing the old ruins and so might you.
”

“
Why, I...
”
Evleen hesitated and bit her lip. The idea of doing something pleasurable had not even occurred to her.

“
Why not?
”
Thomas asked.
“
How long has it been since you did something purely for enjoyment?
”

She replied flatly,
“
I haven’t had time for enjoyment.
”

“
That’s evident, Miss O’Fallon
.
”
He gazed
at her with his dark, probing eyes.
“
You’ve done nothing but work and worry about your mother these past few months, haven’t you?
”

“
So what if I have?
”
She had spoken defiantly, yet inwardly she was touched by his unexpected perceptiveness.

Thomas appeared to ignore her, and addressed Patrick.
“
I believe a bit of sight-seeing is in order, don’t you agree?
”

“
Yes, sir.
”
The boy added earnestly,
“
My sister used to laugh a lot, but she doesn’t anymore.
”

“
Well, then, we’re off to Clonmacnoise.
”
Lord Thomas gave a smart flick to the reins.
“
See just ahead? There’s where we turn.
”

A short time later, Evleen stood with Patrick and Lord Thomas on the bank of the River Shannon, all taking in the breath-taking view of a green, quiet valley where stood the ancient stone tower and the ruins of the nine churches that made up the monastic site of Clonmacnoise. The site was overgrown and neglected, but beautiful, nonetheless.

“
It’s very old, isn’t it?
”
asked Patrick.

“
Founded by Saint Ciaran in five-forty-five AD,
”
Lord Thomas replied.

Evleen was surprised.
“
I would not have guessed you had an interest in ancient history.
”

“
I once had a tutor who delighted in pounding ancient history into my skull.
”
Thomas shaded his eyes and smiled as he took in the view.
“
Imagine, Patrick, a weary pilgrim in the year eight-hundred-something, walking across the midland bogs to this mystic place. Or a merchant boating his way down the mighty River Shannon, bringing goods.
”

“
I can see it, Patrick eagerly cried. He looked down upon the many ruins of old churches, and the vast graveyard with its tall crosses exquisitely carved of stone.
“
Evleen, can I go explore? I want to see if I can climb inside that big, tall tower.
”

“
If you’re careful
—
”

Patrick darted away before she finished. Evleen exchanged amused glances with Lord Thomas again, then both watched until the boy disappeared behind the ruins of an old church. In the silence Evleen became aware that except for an old caretaker in the distance, she and Lord Thomas were alone. An awkwardness came over her, she could not imagine why, for she was usually at ease with people. Not this man, though.

“
Shall we stroll?
”
he asked with great politeness.

“
I don’t see why not,
”
she cautiously replied. They made their way down a gentle slope and for a while strolled upon the emerald green grass in comfortable silence amidst the stone crosses and clusters of ruined churches.

In the distance, Patrick reappeared.
“
I’m going to climb inside the tower now,
”
he called and disappeared again.

“
What a fine lad,
”
remarked Lord Thomas.

She asked,
“
Is he not driving you daft with his questions?
”

“
On the contrary. I greatly admire an inquiring mind. He’ll do well in England, mark my words.
”

“
Will he?
”
A flood of doubts coursed through her. Mama’s decision and their departure all happened so fast that until this very moment she had hardly given a thought to exactly what the future held.
“
What kind of a family will we be living with?
”

“
You will find Lord Trevlyn most amiable and kind
.
”

“
And the rest? You said there was a brother and his wife?
”

“
Yes, Lord Trevlyn’s brother, Walter Trevlyn, his wife, and their three daughters.
”
They came to the arched entryway of an old stone church.
“
Shall we go inside?
”

Evleen started through the entrance, stopped in her tracks, jolted by a startling realization and quickly turned to face him.
“
They were not aware of Patrick’s existence, were they?
”

“
No, they were not.
”

“
So the brother presumed he was the heir?
”

Thomas stopped, too, and turned to face her, nodding reluctantly.
“
‘Presumed’ is correct. Up to now he’s been the heir presumptive, not the heir apparent.
”

Suddenly she understood.
“
Be that as it may, can you honestly say that Patrick will be welcomed with open arms by the brother and his family?
”

Thomas exhaled, shut his eyes the fraction of a moment before he replied,
“
I don’t suppose he will. Naturally, Walter and his family will not be particularly pleased when they find out about Patrick.
”

She was horrified.
“
You mean they still don’t know?
”

“
If they don’t, they soon will.
”

This was getting worse and worse, thought Evleen, her spirits plunging. Bad enough Patrick had been wrested from the only home he had ever known, but worse, he was bound to meet with hostility at this utterly foreign place where he was going to live.
And what of me?
How would the women of the family deal with a strange young woman from one of the poorest counties in all Ireland?
“
Tell me about the family.
”

Although Lord Thomas was obviously striving to appear unconcerned, she perceived the gleam of solicitude that flashed in his eyes.
“
The daughters are of a marriageable age,
”
he began, and went on to describe how Mrs. Trevyln was a
“
forceful individual albeit truly a grand lady,
”
how Charlotte, the eldest daughter, was
“
indeed a great beauty, both refined and delicate,
”
how Bettina, the middle daughter, excelled in embroidery, and how Amanda, the youngest, was
“
rather on the shy side but extremely well-mannered.
”
Having said all that, he added,
“
I shall be blunt. Neither you nor Patrick are likely to be welcomed with open arms.
”
He looked down at her, his dark eyes keenly assessing, yet admiring, too.
“
But doesn't the blood of Irish kings runs through your veins, Miss O’Fallon? If there’s anyone who can handle them it’s you.
”