that they had paid no rent since they moved here. Evleen shuddered to think that Lord Trevyln’s emissary might be bent on collecting every penny they owed for the past nine years. Or worse, what if it wasn’t a question of making up the rent? It was well within the realm of possibility that this pleasant young man—and quite handsome, too, she had to admit—was waiting for the right moment to announce they were being evicted. Sudden panic gripped her. Where would they go? What would they do? The money was almost gone. They’d be out in the cold with no food, no shelter, and no place to go but–she shuddered to think of it—the workhouse. And all because of him.
Well into dinner, Evleen, her trepidation rising, could not help but glare at their visitor. She didn’t care if he knew she was staring. Besides, how could she avoid him? Sitting directly across from Thomas—oh, excuse me, Lord Thomas, she’d been hard-put not to notice every move he’d made. So far, the dinner had been quite congenial. She’d watched when their visitor had taken his first bite of her poached salmon and smiled with delight, pronouncing the salmon the best he had ever eaten. For some unfathomable reason, she’d felt inordinately pleased, then wondered why she should care if the man who was about to toss them out of their home liked her salmon or not.
Darragh’s conduct was disgusting. Evleen couldn’t help but note that since the moment her flirtatious younger sister met Lord Thomas, she’d been fluttering her eyelids at him, making silly, feather-brained remarks. Of course poor Darragh didn’t realize what was going to happen, Evleen thought charitably. She would be changing her tune soon enough.
Even Sorcha and Mary, in their adolescent fashion were taken by Lord Thomas, who had been charming throughout dinner, Evleen had to admit. But how he must pity us. Evleen looked about the room. It was cozy enough with its many pictures on the walls, Mama’s beautifully set table, the air filled with the fragrance of peat burning in the fireplace. Still, it was obvious they were just another shanty-poor Irish family, hardly better than dirt in the eyes of the haughty English. She wondered if he was comparing what must be his own fancy estate in England to this pathetic hovel.
Timothy seemed to be the only one at the table beside herself who was leery of the Englishman, although she doubted his dislike stemmed from fear Lord Thomas might evict them. Rather, she’d found over the years that Timothy, despite his good nature, tended toward a jealous nature. No doubt he harbored some farfetched fear that Lord Thomas might be a rival for her affections.
No chance of that.
At the end of the meal, when all were full and in a relaxed mood, Lord Thomas laid his fork on his empty plate. “A delicious meal,” he announced. “I have never tasted better.”
Mama nodded her appreciation and smiled wryly. “We have Evleen to thank. She learned how to cook when we came to live in this cottage. And speaking of this cottage...” she looked Thomas square in the eyes “. . . had you something to say us, sir?”
Evleen braced herself. The blow that would change their lives was about to fall. She waited tensely, trying to read the concerned expression on Lord Thomas’s face. Obviously he was aware that any reference to the family’s fall from riches to rags must be handled delicately.
Lord Thomas glanced around the table, especially at O’Grady. “I wonder if we might talk in private, Mrs... or is it Lady O’Fallon?”
“Mrs. O’Fallon will do,” Mama answered briskly. “And let us not worry about privacy. I have no secrets from friends or family. Anything you wish to say can be said right here.”
“Then...” Lord Thomas paused, no doubt forming his words carefully. “As you already know, I have been sent here by Lord Trevlyn to check on his property. I was to find out why no rents have been forthcoming for these many years, and, if possible...” Lord Thomas cleared his throat, for the first time seeming unsure of himself. “I was to arrange to collect the rents, but that was before I knew of Lord Montfret’s marriage.”
“That does put a different slant on things,” Mama said flatly. “You must realize, sir, it was my husband’s wish that we move here. This was after he had gotten into... shall we say, certain financial difficulties in Dublin.”