The Irish Upstart (21 page)

Lord Thomas demurred, saying he was anxious to see his father.

“
Of course, Thomas. Your father still suffers from the gout and will indeed be happy to see you. Also, Montague is home. I know you’ll be anxious to see him, too. But come to dinner tonight, won’t you? You, Penelope, and Montague.
”
When Thomas nodded affirmatively, Lord Trevlyn placed an arm around Patrick’s shoulders.
“
My brother and his family are out visiting this afternoon, but you’ll meet them soon enough. Now come inside and I shall show you your new home.
”

“
Evleen, I think I’m going to like it here,
”
Patrick called over his shoulder as he was led away.

Lord Thomas spoke up.
“
Miss O’Fallon will be right along, sir. I want to tell her goodbye.
”

They were alone, still standing beside the coach. One of the horses pawed the ground and whinnied softly as Lord Thomas took both her hands in his and gazed down on her fondly.
“
So it’s goodbye.
”

“
But won’t I see you at dinner tonight?
”

“
You will, but by then we’ll be two different people.
”
He smiled ruefully.
“
We shared the intimacy of a journey, you and I. God knows, it wasn’t all fun, but still, we did what we pleased and had many a laugh, didn’t we? But it’s over now. Tonight we return to society’s rules. I shall be Lord Thomas, all bows and elegant manners. You will be Miss O’Fallon, dipping curtseys and fluttering your fan.
”

“
I don’t own a fan
.
”

“
Ah, but you will.
”
He stepped closer and looked deep into her eyes.
“
I have never enjoyed a journey as much as this one.
”

“
I, too... well, except for crossing the Irish Sea. That I could have done without.
”

“
I thought you were magnificent. You never complained.
”

He stepped even closer, and there it was again, that mystic force between them that caused her heart to race.
“
I try never to complain,
”
she said, shrugging and trying to look as if she didn’t notice how close he was standing when all the time she felt overwhelmed by his presence and hardly knew where to look. He was right about the intimacy of their journey. They had formed a close bond, laughing together, sharing a parents’ kind of joy over Patrick and his antics and bright remarks. They shared the grueling voyage over the Irish Sea when Thomas
did
all he could to ease her suffering, not too proud to hold her in his arms, comfort her, assure her she shouldn’t be embarrassed. Now, a feeling of emptiness swept over her. In all the excitement, she had not fully realized until this very moment that from now on their relationship could never be the same. Of course, it was obvious she would see him again, but how different would be the circumstances.

“
I shall never forget your kindness to Patrick and me
.
”

A long silence followed. They seemed locked in each other’s gaze. He looked as if he was about to speak, as if he was on the brink of saying forbidden things he shouldn’t say. That would be wrong, though. Anything between them would be wrong.
Never love an Englishman
. That was mama’s good advice which she most assuredly must heed. Breaking the spellbinding moment, she stepped away.
“
I like Lord Trevlyn already,
”
she said, striving to sound casual.
“
Now that we’re here, I’m sure all will be well.
”

A shadow of doubt crossed his face before he said,
“
I hope it will.
”
Fondly he touched his finger to her cheek.
“
But be careful.
”
One corner of his mouth quirked into a half smile.
“
Never forget you’re descended from the kings of Ireland.
”
Before she could answer, he pulled her close and kissed her, only a brief kiss, but it was full on her lips and she’d heard the intake of his breath as, afterward, he quickly thrust her away.

“
Goodbye and good fortune,
”
he called and was in the coach, signaling to the coachman, and then gone.

* * *
 
                                       

When Pierce, the dignified, white-haired butler, showed Evleen to her bedchamber, she was astounded at its size and opulence. Beside her, Patrick exclaimed,
“
All of this room just for the two of us?
”

Pierce concealed a smile.
“
No, Master Patrick, this is Miss Evleen’s. Your bedchamber is right next door.
”

Evleen could not believe it. After Pierce left, Patrick eagerly trailing behind, she wandered about the spacious bedchamber, admiring the plush Administer rug, the fine, damask draperies. She flung herself with abandon on the high, four-poster bed, first delighting over its luxurious softness, then feeling a touch of guilt, wondering how she could possibly be enjoying herself when Mama and the girls slept on straw mattresses. Still, she may as well enjoy herself while she was here. Who knew what might happen? S
oon she
might very well find herself back in County Clare.

A quick knock sounded on the door, followed by a pretty young woman in a maid’s uniform. In a thick French accent, she said,
“
I am Celeste, ma’am. Lord Trevlyn sent me to assist you in dressing for dinner tonight.
”

In confusion, Evleen sprang off the bed. Years ago in Dublin, her family had servants
, but her memories of them were faint.
Now
the idea of having a lady’s maid to help her dress was so foreign she could hardly comprehend.
“
I... thank you, Celeste, but I can do for myself.
”

“
Oh, no, Miss.
”
Celeste grew round-eyed.
“
Dinner at Aldershire Manor is always a very formal occasion. Mrs. Trevlyn
would insist.
She would have my head if you were not properly attired.
”
Celeste picked up Evleen’s small portmanteau, set it on the bed, and opened it.
“
We shall see what you have brought to wear.
”

With a sinking feeling, Evleen replied,
“
Not much I’m afraid.
”

“
Mon Dieux
, is this the best you have?
”
Celeste pulled out Evleen’s Sunday gown, a not-so-new bishop’s blue calico, and held it high. Nose pinched with distaste, she regarded it as if it had just been used to clean the stalls.

Evleen tried to cover her embarrassment but felt herself blush.
“
That is my very best.
”

“
Déplorable
.
”
Celeste paused, appearing to ponder. Her eyes lit.
“
You and Miss Charlotte are about the same size. She has a gown she never wears that I am sure would suit you. It is perfect for you.
”

“
But do you think I should?
”

“
Miss Charlotte won’t care.
”

“
Are you sure?
”

After a noticeable pause before Celeste replied,
“
I’m sure she won’t, and even if she does, I have strict orders from Lord Trevlyn to make you look your very best tonight.
”

Although Evleen was suspicious, she decided not to argue. If Charlotte resented her wearing the dress, then she would explain and apologize later, and surely she would understand.
“
All right, Celeste. Now what do you think my brother should wear?
”

“
We don’t have to worry about clothes for Patrick. He will take his dinner in his bedchamber tonight, and every night.
”

“
But we’re accustomed to eating together.
”

“
Never. The English say children should be seen and not heard, most especially at dinner.
”

Parents eat separate from their children? What a strange, heartless notion. Evleen remembered all those family dinners in County Clare when the air was filled with laughter and bright conversation with her lively little sisters and Patrick’s incessant questions. She could not imagine eating separately.
Ah, well. She must keep reminding herself she was in a different country now and should stay silent, going along with whatever were the customs. Still, what strange habits these English had!

“
Magnifique
,
”
exclaimed Celeste when Evleen had finished dressing.

Evleen turned this way and that in front of the mirror examining herself. She loved her new upswept coiffeur, as well the borrowed gown.
“
I like the dark orange color,
”
she said as she admired the sleeves, covered with a network of satin, and the hem trimmed with white satin rouleau.

“
Not orange, Miss, capucine.
”

“
Whatever you call it, it’s not bad.
”

Celeste brought clasped hands to her heart in admiration.
“
Zee color is perfection for your dark hair and fair skin.
”

Evleen agreed, although in modesty, didn’t say. Actually, she was feeling better by the hour, for a myriad of reasons. Not only did she feel she looked her best, but her fears had mainly been allayed. Lord Trevlyn, whom she feared might be some sort of ogre, was most pleasant and kind. Patrick could not ask for a better grandfather. Also, Aldershire Manor was a beautiful mansion, not nearly as formidable as she had feared. She laughed to herself, remembering how her mother feared she might be given a small, cold room in the attic, shared with a scullery maid. Instead, here she was in this beautiful bedchamber, dressed in this beautiful dress after—miracle of miracles!—she had luxuriated in a long, pleasurable bath. Imagine! Maids scurrying up and down the back stairway, hauling buckets of hot water, just so she could bathe. How wonderful it had felt to scour herself all over and finally wash her hair, all with a lady’s maid to assist. It was a good thing Darragh couldn’t see her now, she would be green with envy. Leaning closer to the looking glass, Evleen tweaked the tiny curls that Celeste had arranged around her forehead. Never had she looked so elegant, at least not since she was fifteen and they had lived in Dublin. Now she felt more confident, and sure that despite those veiled little warnings from Thomas and that funny hesitation of the maid, she had nothing to fear.

The grand, sweeping stairway was a perfect way to make an entrance
.
Evleen glided down the steps, head held high. Over her protests, Celeste had insisted she carry a white plumed fan, which she held regally high in one white-gloved hand, the gloved fingers of her other lightly touching the polished mahogany railing.
Except there’s nobody to see me
, she thought when she got to the bottom. Where was she supposed to go?

Pierce appeared and sensed her dilemma.
“
They are in the drawing room. Follow me.
”
He led her to a set of double doors, partially open, said,
“
Through there, Miss O’Fallon,
”
and withdrew.

She started to enter, eager to meet the whole family, heard voices, and stopped upon hearing her name.

“
But it’s my dress,
”
wailed someone young and female,
“
not that... whatever is the girl’s name?
”

“
Evleen,
”
said another voice, equally young and female.
“
I hear from the servants she’s quite beautiful.
”
There was a giggle.
“
You’ll have to watch she doesn’t get her claws into Montague. Thomas, too, especially since he’s just traveled clear from Ireland with her.
”

“
Over my dead body. I shall snatch my dress right off her back.
”

“
But Charlotte, you didn’t even like the dress,
”
said another female voice, a sweeter one this time.
“
You always said the color didn’t suit you.
”

“
I don’t care about that. Celeste had no right to give it to her.
”