The Irish Upstart (27 page)

“
Me, a London belle?
”
Evleen asked, laughing.
“
I don’t think so. All I want right now is to look after Patrick.
”

“
Won’t you humor an old man?
”

There was such a pleading in Lord Trevlyn’s eyes she could hold out no longer.
“
All right, I shall go to the rout. I can only hope I don’t commit another
faux pas
.
”

* * *
 
                                       

“
Mon Dieux
,
”
muttered Celeste. Lips pursed in disapproval, she stepped back to view the result of her efforts to dress Evleen for the rout.

Evleen turned this way and that in front of her full-length mirror.
How ugly
, she thought, regarding the newly borrowed, dark brown dress with distaste. It fit well enough, and the simple style with its modest neckline could not be faulted, yet something was wrong.
“
Why is it I look so drab?
”
she asked.

“
Mud is most definitely not your color,
”
replied Celeste.

Of course! That dark brown did look like mud.
“
It makes my skin look dull and lifeless.
”

“
Not like zee
capucine
.
”
Celeste frowned.
“
Too bad Miss Charlotte said she might want to wear it soon, herself. It would have been perfect for you.
”
Her frown deepened.
“
Before she wears it, hell will freeze.
”
She cast Evleen’s gown a look of aversion.
“
No one has ever liked that mud-colored atrocity. For years it’s hung at the back of Miss Charlotte’s wardrobe.
”

“
Beggars cannot be choosers, Celeste.
”
Evleen perceived exactly what the lady’s maid was hinting at, yet after her transgression today, she had no wish to find fault with anyone.

“
You will need a fan,
”
said Celeste.
“
I shall go borrow—
”

“
I don’t need a fan. I carried that silly plume thing to dinner the other night, and found it nothing but a bother. All it did was tickle my nose.
”

Celeste persisted, but Evleen was adamant. Shortly, wearing the mud-colored dress, not carrying a fan, Evleen descended the stairs to the drawing room, wishing heartily she could just stay home.

* * *
 
                                       

Evleen was relieved Lord Trevlyn had forgiven her, but now, as she sat in the drawing room with the Trevlyn ladies, waiting for their carriage to come around, she felt like an accused prisoner in the Old Baily docks. Except for Amanda, how formidable they looked, all dressed to the nines for the rout tonight. Lydia Trevlyn was a study in mirthless severity in severe black; Charlotte looked more like a beautiful wax doll than a real person in her peach satin gown, her blonde hair perfectly arranged; Bettina was all frills, lace, and tiny bouncy curls. Only Amanda, unattractive in a plain, dull-colored gown, did not have that accusing gleam in her eyes. It occurred to Evleen that Amanda would actually be pretty if she sat straight, not hunched over with her shoulders slumped.

Lydia spoke to Evleen, her lips pursed in disapproval.
“
What I cannot understand is what possessed you to go wandering about the streets, especially at that indecent hour of the morning.
”

Evleen wondered how she could possibly explain that at the time, she had not given her and Patrick’s
“
little stroll
”
a thought. And how was she to know whether an hour was
“
indecent
”
or not? There was no such thing as an indecent hour in County Clare since most of its citizens arose early in order to do their work. She would try to explain.
“
You see, in Ireland—
”

“
It simply is not done,
”
interrupted Bettina, looking down her nose.
“
A lady on the streets alone? Whoever heard of such a thing?
”

“
And on Saint James Street,
”
Charlotte contributed, her expression properly horrified.
“
Everyone knows a lady must never show her face on Saint James’s Street.
”

“
Yet there you were,
”
Lydia went on,
“
wandering alone, with only a little boy for company—hardly a chaperone—going wherever you pleased for the world to see.
”

“
I
cannot
see the harm,
”
Evleen answered, knowing in advance they wouldn’t like her answer.

“
You cannot see the harm?
”
repeated Lydia in horror.
“
We are only concerned for your welfare, Miss O’Fallon, and can only hope the people who count didn’t see you on Saint James Street alone. If they did, your reputation is in shreds before you’ve hardly started.
”

Charlotte bobbed her head in agreement.
“
And furthermore, you have endangered the reputation of the entire Trevlyn family.
”

And just who were
“
the people that count?
”
Evleen wondered. Best not to ask.
“
Perhaps I should be drawn and quartered,
”
she murmured, seeing the humor despite her discomfit.

Only Amanda caught the
whimsy
in her remark, and to Evleen’s surprise, threw her a fleeting smile. Alas, her mother caught it, and demanded,
“
What is funny, Amanda?
”

“
Nothing, Mama.
”
Amanda pulled herself straight, obviously gathering her courage, and burst out,
“
But perhaps we should remember that Evleen just arrived from Ireland, where things are different, and she cannot possibly be expected to learn all our customs at once.
”

The sound of Lydia’s sigh of exasperation filled the room.
“
I am surprised at you, Amanda. Henceforth, I suggest that you, not being knowledgeable of the situation, would do well to remain silent.
”
Lydia turned back to Evleen.
“
You are not in Ireland now, are you? I trust you’ll know how to conduct yourself at Lord and Lady Beckford’s rout tonight.
”

“
Also called an ‘at-home,’ Evleen,
”
Charlotte loftily informed her,
“
just in case you didn’t know.
”

Evleen heartily wished she had not promised Lord Trevlyn she would go to the rout, or at-home, or whatever it was called, but she had promised, and there was no getting around it.
“
I shall do my best, Mrs. Trevyln. That’s all I can do. You may as well know, I am not keen on going.
”

Lydia gazed pointedly at the mud-colored gown.
“
You don’t wish to attend? After we took all the trouble to find something suitable for you to wear?
”

“
Don’t mistake me. I promised Lord Trevlyn I would go and so I shall.
”

Not appeased, Lydia heatedly continued,
“
You disgraced us all today with your thoughtlessness and unthinking behavior. Oh, don’t think I don’t sympathize. Coming from a country as uncivilized as Ireland, you simply don’t know any better. I fear you’ll be dreadfully out of place. Quite frankly, if it were up to me, I would most readily grant your wish not to attend the at-home tonight, or any events of the Season. However, Lord Trevlyn insists you go. Imagine. He actually thinks you can learn the social graces overnight and become an accepted member of our Polite World.
”

Bettina whinnied. Charlotte burst into a gale of giggles and exclaimed,
“
Our Irish princess will never fit in. You know that yourself, don’t you, Evleen?
”

“
I’m not so sure of that,
”
said Amanda, boldly speaking up again.
“
Did you not see Lord Thomas when he brought her home? He seemed quite taken with her.
”

All laughter ceased abruptly. A silence followed, during which Evleen could almost see the waves of resentment wafting in her direction.

Lydia finally responded,
“
Lord Thomas is a most compassionate man, Amanda. You would
be
wise not to mistake charity for affection.
”

Charlotte glared at her younger sister.
“
Anyway, you’re mistaken. Lord Thomas harbors a secret affection for me, and always has. A pity he’s only a second son, or I might have considered him, especially since he is rather handsome, and most charming. However–
”
she shrugged a shoulder in mock indifference
“
—Montague will be proposing soon.
”

Bettina sniggered.
“
The way things are going, you’ll turn into a dried-up old ape leader waiting for Montague.
”

“
Girls,
”
Lydia said sharply.
“
Not another word. We all know Montague is on the brink of proposing.
”

“
What if he doesn’t?
”
asked Amanda.

“
Then there are other first sons in this world,
”
declared Lydia.

Bettina said,
“
If you ask me, I’m the one Lord Thomas holds a special affection for. Just look how he dotes on my embroidery. He’ll be proposing soon, too,
”

“
I’m sure he will, Bettina,
”
Lydia said fiercely,
“
and your father and I shall approve, even though he’s only a second son.
”
She sighed wistfully.
“
I would have wanted first sons for all of you, but apparently that’s not to be.
”

Pierce announced their carriage had arrived at the front entrance. Accompanying the Trevlyns from the drawing room, Evleen wondered,
first son? second son
? How could a man’s station in life so totally depend on the order in which he was born? Apparently it did, though, and she thought it very strange.

* * *
 
                                       

“
So this is a rout?
”
Evleen murmured, incredulous.

She had pictured a dignified evening in which elegantly dressed men and women would dance, congenially converse, take refreshments, and play cards. Her first indication that her expectations were woefully wrong came when the Trevlyns’ carriage became caught in a horrific jam of horses, coaches and carriages, all waiting to approach Lord and Lady Beckford’s front portico. At least fifteen minutes passed before they reached it, then had to fight their way through a crowd of elegantly dressed men and women to obtain entrance. After a hasty greeting by their harried-looking hostess, they fought their way up the packed staircase to a series of rooms on the first floor where everyone seemed to be milling about with no purpose. There appeared to be no place to sit.
“
Where are the chairs?
”
asked Evleen.

“
Nobody sits,
”
whispered Amanda.

“
But what on earth are we supposed to do? Where’s the conversation, the cards, the music? Where’s the food?
”

“
You don’t understand. All we’re supposed to do is elbow our way through the crowd, and then, after a quarter of an hour or so, we leave.
”

“
But how could they enjoy this?
”
Evleen asked, gazing at Lydia, Charlotte and Bettina, who despite the crush, were smiling brightly, appearing to be having a delightful time.

“
We come to see and be seen,
”
answered Amanda.
“
It’s essential in high society. We have to entertain and be entertained to maintain our standing. That’s just the way it is.
”