The Irish Upstart (22 page)

Saints preserve us
. Evleen’s spirits plunged like the bow of The Countess of Liverpool dipping into a trough. Suddenly the gown she adored was now but a mere garment, and worse, a garment its owner did not even want her to have. She considered turning on her heel and retreated to her bedchamber, but only for a moment. Since when did a true daughter of Ireland let the English get the better of her? She was here, and here she would remain, for Patrick’s sake, not her own, so she must at least attempt to make them like her. If they didn’t, perhaps they could at least get along.

Evleen squared her shoulders, took a breath, and swept into the drawing room. The first person she saw was a man with thinish hair standing by the fireplace. Although he was elegantly dressed, his small frame, slumped shoulders, and pinched face did not impress. He smiled when he saw her and said,
“
Ah, this must be Evleen. I am Lord Trevlyn’s brother, Walter. Come in, meet my family.
”

“
I would be delighted.
”
Evleen forced a smile, keenly conscious of four pairs of female eyes sharply assessing her.

“
My wife, Lydia,
”
said Walter, nodding toward a thinnish, woman seated grandly upon an empire mahogany fauteuil-de-bureau.
“
These three young ladies are my daughters,
”
he went on.
“
Charlotte—
”
he nodded toward a pretty blonde girl of twenty or so.
“
Bettina—
”
he indicated a round-faced young woman working on her embroidery
“
—and my youngest, Amanda.
”

Only Amanda, a plumpish girl with nondescript brown hair and the look of a frightened deer about her, returned Evleen’s effort at a smile.
“
You are most welcome, Evleen. I
—
”
She appeared about to continue, but suddenly wilted, as if she had caught a signal that she should shut her mouth.

“
So,
”
Lydia said loudly and sharply.
“
Won’t you sit down, Miss O’Fallon?
”
Evleen did as requested, seating herself upon a stripped green silk settee.
“
I hear you are from Ireland. Do tell us about yourself.
”
It was not a request, it was a command.

Sitting squarely in the center of the settee, her back as straight and stiff as she could make it, Evleen could feel the resentment aimed in her direction, not from timid Amanda, but from Lydia and the two older daughters. There was more than a bit of rancor here. In fact, she felt enveloped by a deep, thick cloud of hostility and hard feelings. She gulped a deep breath and determined to make the best of it.
“
Well, I’m from Ireland,
”
she began.

“
We know that,
”
said Bettina, seeming to suppress a titter.

“
From County Clare.
”

Lydia interjected,
“
We know that, too. County Clare,
”
she repeated, seeming to muse,
“
that’s one of Ireland’s poorest counties, is it not?
”

“
All rocks and mud, from what we hear,
”
Charlotte volunteered.

In a voice chill as the wind over the Irish Sea, Lydia continued,
“
Is it true you and Patrick are descended from the kings of Ireland?
”

What was this, some sort of Spanish Inquisition? Evleen felt her temper rise but determined to control it.
“
Patrick is my half-brother. As I’m sure you know, his father was Randall, Viscount Montfret.
”
She enjoyed the gritting of teeth that seemed to occur after her remark and could not resist tilting her chin and parrying,
“
So if he’s descended from kings, we most likely should include the kings of England.
”

“
I see. Hmm.
”
Mrs. Trevyln’s fighting spirit seemed quashed for a moment, but she quickly recovered and inquired,
“
So do tell us of your heritage.
”

“
We are so impressed,
”
said Bettina.

Evleen was not sure if they were jesting or not. Perhaps not. Perhaps she was being overly sensitive because of the remark about the dress, but that was minor and they truly wanted to make her welcome.
“
You’re sure you want to hear?
”
They all nodded.
“
Well, then...
”

She told them of her father, who was Ian O’Fallon, son of Daniel O’Fallon, eighth Earl of Dunkerry, and how he was descended from the Duke of Connaught, who was a direct descendent of Euchaid, one of the ancient kings of Ireland who reined over one of the earliest Gaelic kingdoms many centuries ago.
“
So that’s why I’m descended from the kings of Ireland,
”
she concluded.
“
Would you like to hear about my mother’s side?
”

All were silent a moment. Then Bettina giggled, trying to conceal it by bringing her hand to her mouth.

“
Bettina!
”
admonished her mother.

“
I cannot help it, Mama, she really is an Irish princess.
”

Evleen hastily began,
“
Oh, please, I don’t think of myself as a princess. I—
”

Her abrupt halt was caused by the sudden realization that they were making fun of her. Not Walter Trevlyn, who still stood by the fireplace, now with a pained expression on his face. Not by Amanda, who looked downright stricken. But it was clear Mrs. Trevelyn, Charlotte, and Bettina were most definitely not her friends.

“
What were you going to say, Miss O’Fallon?
”
asked Mrs. Trevlyn, faking a solicitous concern.
“
You were going to tell us about your mother’s lineage?
”

Never in a million years
. Evleen answered softly,
“
I make no pretense at being a princess. I am plain Evleen O’Fallon from County Clare, Ireland, no better, no worse than anyone else on God’s green earth.
”

“
Well, we cannot fault her for that, can we, girls?
”
Lydia asked with a forced laugh. Her eyes drilled into Evleen’s.
“
And what will you be doing while you’re here?
”

“
Looking after Patrick, of course. Until he grows accustomed to his new life.
”

“
Then you intend to return to Ireland?
”

“
I am not sure of my plans. Much depends on how well Patrick fares here in England.
”

“
Ah.
”
Mrs. Trevyln made no attempt to hide her relief, nor did Charlotte and Bettina.
“
So you’ll be acting as sort of a governess, then.
”

“
I suppose... yes, you could say that.
”
Evleen was bewildered. What was Mrs. Trevlyn getting at?

“
Not a governess,
”
came Lord Trevlyn’s voice from the doorway. He entered, and despite the slight trembling of his limbs and his heavy dependence on his cane, Evleen sensed from the way all in the room quickly came to attention, his very presence commanded respect.
“
I thought I had made it clear Evleen is no governess.
”

Looking embarrassed, Walter replied,
“
Of course, Charles.
”
He cast a warning glance at his wife and daughters.
“
We understand that.
”

Lord Trevlyn sank with a weary groan into an armchair. Regarding Evleen fondly, he declared,
“
You look beautiful tonight, child. Have they been treating you well?
”

She smiled brightly,
“
Of course. I’ve been made to feel wonderfully welcome.
”

Lord Trevlyn smiled.
“
You will all meet Patrick tomorrow. Wait ‘til you see him. A fine little lad.
”

“
We can hardly wait,
”
said Mrs. Trevlyn, her daughters all eagerly nodding their heads.

Beaming with delight, Lord Trevlyn launched into an ecstatic description of his newly-found grandson.
“
... and he’s an extremely bright boy. Runs in the family, you know. Already the lad knows Greek and Latin, thanks to his mother who has done an outstanding job in educating the child.
”
He cast an admiring glance at Evleen.
“
That also applies to Miss O’Fallon, who is a bright, as well as most beautiful, young lady. Is that not so, everyone?
”

Evleen could have sworn she heard the sounds of gritting teeth again as the Trevlyns all eagerly nodded their heads affirmatively. She noted that although Lydia retained a fixed smile on her face, she had slightly flinched more than once as Lord Trevlyn praised Patrick to the skies.

Lord Trevlyn continued.
“
Now what is this nonsense about Evleen being a governess? She will be no such thing. She is to be treated like one of the family, and when it’s time for the London Season, we shall all go, and that includes Evleen and Patrick. I want Patrick to enjoy the sights of London. As for our Evleen
”
—he cast a warning glance at his sister-in-law—
”
she shall have a Season, just like your daughters, madam. I shall see to it she has the proper clothes, jewels, furbelows, and whatever else that warms the hearts of young ladies.
”

Evleen sat stunned. A London Season? She had not realized. Even in supposedly unenlightened Ireland, she had heard of the London Seasons, where young girls came
“
out
”
and had to exhibit the kind of decorum and elegant deportment which would crown a successful Season with marriage.

“
But Lord Trevlyn, I cannot,
”
she protested.

“
Whyever not?
”

“
In the first place, I’m twenty-four, which is much too old. Besides, I have not come ‘out’ and at this late date, I’d look ridiculous.
”

“
Nonsense. Everyone will know you’re from Ireland. No need for you to officially come
“
out
”
as they say.
”

“
But then, I don’t know if I can
...”
Evleen struggled to find the right words
“
…
I mean, I’ve led a simple life in Ireland. I don’t know if I’m ready for the dances, the fancy manners, the elegant clothes—
”

“
The girl has a point,
”
interjected Mrs. Trevlyn.
“
In my opinion it would be cruel to foist her upon a society she knows nothing about. She simply doesn’t have the training.
”

“
Shouldn’t be a problem,
”
Lord Trevlyn firmly replied.
“
I trust, Lydia, you and your daughters will take Evleen to your collective bosoms, teach her everything she needs to know.
”

Lydia started to protest but Lord Trevlyn raised his hand.
“
Enough. Evleen shall have a Season, and that’s final.
”

Evleen could see further arguing would be futile. And now that she was thinking about it, really, what would it hurt? Visions of exciting London danced in her head. They had passed through that awesome city yesterday, just long enough for her to get a taste of how exciting life must be there. How she would love to go back, stay a while, and see all the sights, and no harm done. Perhaps she might even stumble across that rich and titled Englishman Mama wanted her to find.

Further conversation was cut short when Pierce announced the arrival of Montague, Earl of Eddington, his sister, Penelope, and his brother, Lord Thomas.

Chapter 10

“
How I detest these affairs,
”
declared Montague as he, Penelope and Thomas waited in the entry hall to be announced.