The Irish Upstart (11 page)

* * *
 
                                       

It was the beginning of summer when Evleen, who had been working in the garden, entered the cottage and knew immediately something was wrong.
“
What is it, Mama?
”
she asked in alarm, seeing the grim, tight-lipped look on her mother’s face.

“
A letter has arrived
.
”
She
was sitting at the table, staring at a piece of folded parchment lying before her, fastened by a large red wax seal.

Lord Thomas
, Evleen immediately thought. Since his visit, he had been much on her mind.
“
I would guess it’s from England. Aren’t you going to open it?
”

Mama’s lips pinched even tighter.
“
The letter is from Lord Trevlyn, Patrick’s grandfather. I have no need to open it. I know what it says.
”

He told
. Evleen’s heart sank. She sank into the chair across from her mother and tapped a firm finger on the letter.
“
It won’t go away, you know. You’d best open it. You’ll never know what he has to say if it’s just sitting there.
”

“You’re right.”
Sinead took up the letter, broke the seal, unfolded it and skimmed the contents. Her face grew grim as she remarked,
“
Just as I suspected,
”
and began to read aloud.

My Dear Madame,

Lord Thomas has just returned from Ireland and has informed me I have a grandson, product of your union with my son, Randall.

I cannot begin to express what joy this news has given me and how much I now regret my reluctance to discover more about the life Randall led in Ireland before his tragic death. I had no idea Randall had married and that you had borne his son. In my own defense, my only explanation for my derelict behavior involves the unfortunate circumstances surrounding Randall’s hasty departure from England. His disgrace left me devastated, angry, and keenly disappointed in my only son. Still, I am at fault for disowning him. I regret my hasty, ill-thought-out decision never to mention his name again, or my demand that no news of him ever reach my ears and that I never see him again.

Now, having heard the wonderful news that I have a grandson, I am anxious to make amends. It is my devout and humble wish that you send Patrick to me, here in England, where he will lead a life suitable for a young lord. Thomas has given me a glowing description of Patrick and tells me what a fine young lad he is. It would impolitic of me to compare his potential future here in England with his future in Ireland. I can only assure you that should Patrick come to live with me, he would be accorded all that is rightfully his. That includes the best of tutors until he is old enough for Eton. After Eton, he will be sent to Oxford, then on to Europe for the grand tour. As heir apparent, he will inherit my entire estate, which includes several homes and vast tracts of land throughout the country, including Aldershire Manor, this most beautiful country home in which I, my brother and his family reside. He will also inherit my fortune which is considerable, I can assure you.

To sum up, if Patrick comes to England, he will live a life of privilege and luxury, his future assured. Naturally I am not unaware of the considerable sacrifice I am asking that you make. I understand you have four unmarried daughters. With that in mind, I propose to compensate you and your family with the sum of forty pounds a year, payable your entire lifetime and beyond, if necessary, until your last daughter marries. To this purpose I will arrange to set up an account through a solicitor and bank of your choosing. Naturally, I trust you realize my offer is made in good faith, as just compensation for the loss of the company of your son.

I trust you will let me know as soon as possible of your decision in this matter. Rest assured, Patrick will be treated not only with due consideration and respect, but I will love him with all my heart and see that he has a good, happy, and rewarding life here in England.

Respectfully yours,

Trevlyn

“
How dare he!
”
Sinead, fire in her eye, dropped the letter on the table as if it were a hot coal.
“
Never in a million years shall I send my boy to England.
”

“
Of course,
”
Evleen answered absently. Her mind was on the dark, handsome man with the graceful stride who had so charmed her when he was here. He had told when he said he would not. How could he, when she’d practically begged him not to? She felt an odd twinge of disappointment, even while telling herself she really shouldn’t care. After all, what could she expect of an Englishman? Besides, she most assuredly would never see him again, so why give even one tiny thought to him?

Sinead, in a state of agitation Evleen had never seen before, arose from the table, nearly overturning her chair, and strode to the small front window where she stood, hands jammed on hips, looking out at the sea.
“
How could Lord Trevlyn even think of taking my son away? By what right has he to–
”

Suddenly she clutched her heart, turned, and staggered. Her face turned gray, and she cried,
“
Evleen, my heart. Help me.
”

With a cry, Evleen leaped up to help. Minutes later, she had helped her mother to her bed and was hovering over her.
“
I’ll send for the doctor
...”

“
No, I’m all right.
”
Sinead grasped her wrist.
“
I do get pains in my chest every now and then, but I’m better now. I’m sure it was just the agitation caused by that terrible letter, but I’m fine, really I am. Just let me rest a while.
”

“
But—
”

“
No doctor. We can’t afford it and I don’t need one.
”

Evleen knew better than to disobey her strong-willed mother. She concealed her fear as she replied,
“
All right, I shall just sit here while you rest a while, then you’ll be as good as new.
”

Sinead managed a rueful smile.
“
I had better be. Else, how would we live?
”

“
I don’t care about that
.
”
Mama had always been so well. Evleen had never had to face the unbearable thought that someday she would lose her beloved mother. And yet, death was inevitable. And what if it happened soon? She, herself, would be all right, since she might be marrying Timothy soon... she guessed, although she still hadn’t completely might made up her mind. But what of her sisters? Darragh was old enough to marry, but with her prickly personality, no one had asked her. But Patrick? For the first time, the thought crossed her mind that her brother might indeed be better off in England where he would live in the wealth and luxury that were rightfully his. She would not dream of mentioning such a thought to Mama, though. That would be a betrayal of all her mother held dear.

Sinead clasped her hand.
“
I’ll get up soon. Really, I’m fine. Run find some paper. As soon as I get up, I shall give Lord Trevlyn his reply.
”

* * *
 
                                       

In the late summer sunshine, Thomas and Penelope were standing in front of the ivy-covered stone stables of Northfield Hall.
“
What do you think of him?
”
Thomas ran a brush over the shining brown coat of his new Irish Thoroughbred.
“
A fine bit of blood, wouldn’t you say?
”

“
He’ll make a good addition for your breeding farm,
”
answered Penelope, nodding approvingly.
“
I shall hate to see you leave. It’s been wonderful having you home.
”

“
I won’t be too far away.
”

“
I know, but
...”
A wily expression came over Penelope’s face.
“
Such a large house you’re moving to. I hate to think of you there, all alone. A pity you can’t share it with someone.
”

“
There you go again,
”
Thomas answered with a grin.
“
Do you really expect me to marry Miss Bettina Trevlyn? She would no doubt cause me to expire
out of sheer
boredom. Murder by petit-point, you could say.
”

She laughed appreciatively but quickly grew serious.
“
But you must marry somebody, sometime.
”

“
I’m thinking about it.
”
That
was all he would say. Although he confided in his sister more than anyone, during the entire time he’d been back from Ireland, he
rarely
mentioned Evleen, and only in conjunction with his
overall description of his trip to Ireland
. Despite it’s being utterly insane, he kept wishing he could see her again. But no matter how many times he told himself he would never again make that miserable trip to County Clare, let alone Ireland, her bright blue eyes and enchanting smile stayed as vivid in his mind as the day they’d met. There was nothing he could do about it, though. Evleen O’Fallon would remain an unfulfilled dream, the kind he supposed all men had at one time or another in their lives. What was there to do except resign himself that he would never see the beautiful Irish girl again?

“
Who is that?
”
asked Penelope, looking over Thomas’s shoulder.

Thomas turned to see a rider approaching, an older man, he gathered, riding slowly and somewhat stiffly in his saddle. As the man drew nearer, he recognized who it was.
“
Why it’s Lord Trevlyn. It must be important. One hardly sees him on a horse anymore.
”

Lord Trevlyn dismounted so slowly and painfully Thomas was sorely tempted to offer his help, but refrained in deference to the old man’s pride. He almost changed his mind when Trevlyn’s knees buckled as he hit the ground, but the old man recovered himself by gripping the saddle and quickly pulling himself erect.

After a greeting accompanied by a courtly bow to Penelope, Trevlyn reached in his pocket and pulled out a letter.
“
From that Irish woman. You will never believe what it says.
”

“
I believe I can guess, sir,
”
Thomas replied, careful not to sound too cocksure.

“
Read it.
”

Thomas took the letter and read aloud.

My Dear Lord Trevlyn,

I am in receipt of your letter requesting that I send you my son, Patrick O’Fallon. Please be advised that although I appreciate your concern for your grandson, never, not while there is breath in my body, will he ever set one foot upon the soil of England.

Yours in good health,

Sinead O’Fallon

Sounds just like her
, Thomas thought, but in deference to Trevlyn’s obvious perturbation
he
hid the wry smile that flew to his lips. He’d been right. The letter was exactly the sort he would expect Sinead O’Fallon would write—uncompromising, intractable, and to the point.

“
It sounds as though she has most definitely made up her mind,
sir.
I’m afraid that’s an end to it, then. Perhaps when the boy is older–
”

“
I want my grandson,
”
Trevlyn declared, voice shaking with intensity. Confusion filled his eyes
.
“
I don’t understand. How could that woman defy me after I offered her son the kind of privileged life few can have? Why would she want Patrick to stay on, leading a deprived existence on that... that
...”

“
Barren, rocky piece of land?
”
Thomas softly supplied.

“
Precisely. Well, it simply won’t do. That woman can defy me all she wants, but she’ll not get her way.
”

“
What do you intend?
”

The old man’s eyes gleamed with determination.
“
I want you to return to Ireland. I want you to threaten, beg, plead, cajole, bargain—whatever it takes to get me my grandson.
”

“
No,
”
cried Thomas, his ever-present, stern composure for once forgotten.

“
Yes, Thomas, you must.
”

“
Have you any idea have difficult it is to get to Ireland? How much time the journey takes? As it is, I am so far behind now on the my plans for–
”