The Irish Upstart (39 page)

“
Wait a moment,
”
the older woman called in a compromising tone.
“
I have something to say to you alone.
”

“
And what might that be, Mrs. Trevlyn?
”
Evleen was hard-put to keep the anger and resentment from her voice.

“
We talked once, remember? I told you my daughters would always come first.
”

“
I remember.
”
Evleen wondered what the woman was trying to say.

Lydia raised her chin firmly.
“
I just want you to know I meant what I said—that I shall always put the best interest of my girls before anything and anyone.
”

The truth dawned. Evleen felt sick inside but knew her only recourse was to confront the woman.
“
Mrs. Trevlyn, you have considered me a threat from the beginning. At first you thought I might ‘steal’ Montague. Now that he’s dead, you’re afraid I might do the same with Thomas, so you’re willing to let untrue rumors circulate that surely will ruin my reputation. Am I not correct?
”

Lydia Trevlyn’s silence gave Evleen all the confirmation she would ever need.

“
Then why are you even bothering to tell me? Is this some kind of apology?
”

“
Not an apology but a warning.
”
Lydia gave Evleen a long, withering stare.
“
You know Lord Thomas fairly well, don’t you?
”

“
He accompanied Patrick and me from Ireland.
”

Lydia cocked her head.
“
Do you consider him attractive? I am only asking because—
”

“
You want me to stay away from him, don’t you?
”

“
Exactly. He belongs to Charlotte now. I trust you understand.
”

In the face of Lydia’s appalling warning, Evleen threw caution to the winds. Bitterly she replied,
“
I understand all right. You said you put the best interests of your girls before anything and anyone. It is obvious you put them ahead of honor and integrity, as well.
”

Not wanting to hear another word, Evleen spun on her heel and left. Shocked, feeling totally isolated, she climbed the stairs to her bedchamber, wondering if there was any way she could set straight the Trevlyns’ accusations. Amanda knew the truth, of course, but Evleen wasn’t sure the girl could stand up for herself. The more Evleen thought, the more she realized there was nothing she could do. How could she prove Montague had been drunk and insulting when here were the high-and-mighty Trevlyns implying Montague was a saint, and his death was caused by that rude, selfish upstart from Ireland who had for no reason insulted him?

Her chances were nil.

The brief period of euphoria Evleen had experienced at the ball was forever gone.
Ah Thomas, our dreams are shattered
. Evleen’s heart ached as she perceived with fearful clarity that the sudden, tragic death of Montague had changed her life. The man she loved was not plain Lord Thomas anymore. How ironic! Mama had wanted her to marry a rich and titled Englishman, and now Thomas was, but the barrier between them was higher than ever. As Lord Eddington, new heir of the Marquess of Westhaven, he would be a different person and things between them could never be the same.

Chapter 16

Evleen spent a sleepless, tortured night. Despite the Trevlyns’ appallingly unfair accusation, she spent much of her time thinking of that pitiful dark bundle lying in the street and hearing Thomas’s anguished cry. She felt so sick about Montague that tortured regrets assailed her.

True, he’d been obnoxious on the dance floor, but perhaps if she hadn’t walked away...

True, he’d been intoxicated, but why had she made that terrible remark? If only she’d been kinder, more tolerant!

If only... if only...

But regrets would get her nowhere. Nor, she suspected, would any further protests regarding those horrible accusations that she was somehow responsible for Montague’s untimely death.

And Thomas. What shall I do about Thomas?

In the morning, she yearned to stay in her bedchamber and hide, but she knew such a course would be a coward’s choice. Feeling numb inside, she dressed carefully and went down for breakfast, head high but with a heart full of dread. Except for Amanda’s smile, she was met by silent hostility at the breakfast table until finally, as she sat picking at her food, Lydia Trevlyn asked,
“
So what will you do now, Evleen?
”

“
What do you mean?
”
she asked.

“
Is it not obvious what I mean? Must I say it?
”

Slowly, with great deliberation, Evleen set down her fork on the fine china plate. She lifted her crystal goblet and took a sip of water, then drew herself up.
“
I shall say this one more time. There is a misunderstanding about last night. I did not, in any way, cause the death of Montague.
”

A stony silence met her words
. How unjust this all was! But unjust or not, she realized she was helpless to prevent Charlotte from spreading lies or Lydia from backing her up. Evleen looked around the table and saw nothing but antipathy except for Amanda, whose sympathetic eyes seemed to offer encouragement.

I do not have to stay here, I could go home to Ireland, she thought, with a sudden awareness that there was no reason in the world why she should tolerate this treatment a day, an hour longer. And yet...

Her mother’s words came back to her: Make me proud. She knew what she had to do.
“
You asked what I was going to do, Mrs. Trevlyn,
”
she said.
“
My answer is, I shall continue on as before. I want to attend Montague’s funeral and shall do so. As for Lord Thomas, he is a grown man who will decide his own future with no help from you, or me.
”

Amanda, seated next to her, boldly whispered,
“
Good for you.
”

“
We shall see,
”
Lydia said in an ominous tone.

It was a veiled threat, but Evleen knew there was nothing she could do about it. She managed to smile and said,
“
Never fear, Mrs. Trevlyn, I wouldn’t dream of interfering with your match-making.
”
She shifted her gaze to Charlotte.
“
Lord Thomas is yours, Charlotte... if he’ll have you.
”

* * *
 
                                       

Early the next morning, Thomas hastened to Northfield Hall where Papa, his gout worse than ever, was still confined to his room. Thomas had expected to break the sad news concerning Montague, but one look at his father’s pale, drawn face told him he already knew.

“
I’ve already heard, son,
”
said the Marquess in a stricken voice.
“
Bad news travels swiftly.
”
He shook his head in disbelief.
“
Montague gone. I can hardly believe it.
”

“
It was quick, if that’s any consolation.
”

“
None at all.
”
The Marquess heaved a deep, desponding sigh.
“
Ah, Thomas, there’s no consolation in any of this. My first son dead
...”
he choked up, for a moment unable to continue
“
... at least I shall always know I did my best for him. The most excellent tutors—fine clothes—the grand tour, I don’t know what more a father could have done. He had everything, yet you know how he chose to spend his recent—his last—years.
”
Tears formed in his father’s eyes. Thomas had never seen him cry before, not even when Mama died.
“
Ah, Thomas, I loved him more than life itself, despite his weaknesses.
”

Thomas was hard put not to throw comforting arms around his father but he knew the gout would not permit. Still, he could hardly bear to see his beloved father in such a state of grief.

As he watched, Papa sat taller, seeming to try to pull himself together. An ironic smile touched his lips as he remarked,
“
So you’re no longer the second son, Thomas. Have you considered what that means?
”

“
Do you think that matters to me now?
”

“
Not at the moment, but it will.
”
The Marquess waved his arm in an encompassing gesture.
“
All this will be yours now. The estate, my many properties, investments, titles—all yours.
”

“
I would give them all up in a second if it would bring Montague back.
”

“
I’m sure you would, but that won’t happen, will it? So we must be practical.
”
Papa slanted a warning gaze.
“
The management of this estate is a tremendous responsibility. I wanted Montague to learn, but—
”
his shoulders slumped dejectedly
“
—I can only hope you will take your duties more seriously.
”

“
You know I shall.
”

“
You must marry soon.
”

Evleen
. Was it less than a day ago they’d been carefree and laughing at the ball? When the excitement of their meeting had been almost palpable between them? He had said he would call, knowing she knew he would propose. Unless he was totally mistaken in his judgement of women, he was positive she would accept. But of course all that was before the death of Montague.

“
I do plan to marry soon, Papa,
”
Thomas said,
“
after the appropriate period of mourning, of course.
”

“
Ah. Charlotte will make a fine daughter-in-law, and the perfect mistress of Northfield Hall.
”

“
Not Charlotte, Father. I am in love with Evleen O’Fallon.
”

His father’s eyes went wide. Aghast, he regarded Thomas. After a stunned silence, he declared,
“
Are you daft? Over my dead body will you marry that selfish, cold-blooded Irish tart.
”

Thomas was so stunned that for a moment he could not speak.
“
Why do you talk of her like that?
”
he finally asked.

“
Because she’s responsible for Montague’s death and don’t you tell me otherwise.
”

“
That’s absolutely absurd. Montague fell off his horse because he was drunk.
”

“
That’s not what I heard. Montague was distraught because of what that woman said to him. I heard that from a very good source, so you’ll not dissuade me.
”

That much was true, Thomas thought disconsolately. Once his father made up his mind, nothing could change it.
“
You’ve heard lies. Evleen is guilty of nothing more than rejecting Montague’s advances.
”

Papa bristled.
“
Whether she’s guilty or not isn’t the point. In any event, Evleen O’Fallon would not make a suitable wife. Under no circumstances are you to marry her.
”

Thomas stared in disbelief at his father.
“
I am amazed. She’s been the toast of London for weeks and now you say she’s not suitable?
”

“
There’s no noble blood in her, not like Charlotte Trevlyn. Do you really want your children to be half Irish?
”

Thomas was suffused with anger.
“
Now see here—
”

Reaching toward his bandaged foot, Papa flinched.
“
God’s blood but it hurts,
”
he cried in anguish.

Thomas’s flare of anger instantly subsided.
“
I hate seeing you suffer. Is there anything I can do?
”

“
Don’t marry that Irish girl.
”

“
But you don’t understand. I love her.
”

“
I don’t give a groat if you love her or not. You’ve been stubborn all your life. Always did what you pleased, even when you were a little boy. Now that you’re grown there’s been no controlling you. But now... Ah, Thomas,
”
his father cried, gazing up at him with pleading eyes.
“
Can you not do this one thing for me? I’m old. I’m sick. My older son just died. How can you defy me?
”