“What my mother means is that Lord Montfret squandered her modest fortune after telling her I-don’t-know-how-many lies. By the time he died, all she had left was the townhouse my father left her. Because of Randall’s debts, she had to sell it, which left us with nothing. There was no place to move but here.”
Mama sighed. “I never heard a word from any of Randall’s family, until now. So I...” She bit her lip. A look of near-panic crossed her face. “What does Lord Trevlyn want? If he wants me to make up the rents for the past nine years, there is no possible way I–”
“No, madame,” Lord Thomas interrupted, at least having the decency to look disturbed. In fact, his eyes were filled with concern. “Trevlyn was not aware his son had ever married. This, of course, puts a new light on things. Were you not aware of the reason Randall left England?”
“I was never sure.”
“Then he never told you he fled from debtors and that he’d been disowned.”
“That comes as no surprise.” Mama gave him a grim smile. “I know now that Randall was an expert at deceit. He told me his father would be sending money any day. It never arrived, of course.”
“Ah, I see. Then rest assured, I shall do nothing now. I shall return to England and present the facts to Lord Trevlyn. He’s a kindly man, and quite reasonable. One wonders how he could have had a son so irresponsible... so reprehensible—”
“Don’t you talk about my father that way!”
Everyone at the table gasped as young Patrick, eyes blazing, leaped up so fast he knocked his chair over and it clattered to the stone floor. He was trembling. His eyes glistened with tears as he cried hoarsely to his mother, “He was my father. I don’t care what he did. How can you let that man talk about him that way?”
Sinead immediately rose from the table and hurried to put her arms around her son. “I am so sorry, Patrick. That was completely thoughtless of me. There were good things about your father, too.”
After a stunned silence, Lord Thomas, shaking his head contritely, spoke again. “I, too, am terribly sorry, Patrick. I didn’t know. I thought O’Fallon was your father.”
“It seemed simpler to have Patrick carry the family name,” Sinead explained, still cradling Patrick in her arms. “I never thought to tell you he’s the son of Randall Trevlyn.”
Evleen watched as their guest actually seemed to turn a bit pale. He started to speak, then stopped. Finally he arose from the table and stood there, blank, amazed, and very shaken. “If you will excuse me, I feel the need for a breath of fresh air,” he said in an odd voice. He turned and left the cottage.
* * *
It had turned dark, but a half moon was shining. The air was brisk, moist, and there was a slight breeze blowing as Evleen, upon the request of her mother, stepped outside to find Lord Thomas. She spied him immediately. He was standing, deep in thought it appeared, at the end of the cottage, an arm cocked upon his hip. He was staring out at the blackness that was the sea.
She could not see him clearly but saw enough to marvel at how handsome he looked, standing there in that most masculine way, his jacket pulled back by the hand on his hip, revealing a trim waistline, powerful chest and shoulders, and a stomach as flat as the back of her hand. She could hardly see his profile, dark in the moonlight, yet already the fine features of his face were etched in her mind: skin bronzed by wind and sun, generous mouth, aquiline nose, touches of humor etched permanently around his mouth and deep-set brown eyes.
She walked up to him and said, “It appears something is bothering you.”
He started, not having heard her approach. Now, with a wry laugh, he turned to her and replied, “Bothered is hardly the word. I received quite a shock in there.”
“I don’t understand,” she replied, truly bewildered. “We were not trying to hide the fact that Patrick is Randall Trevyln’s son. Really, does it matter?”
“Matter?” Thomas asked with incredulity. “Of course it matters. It matters a good deal.”
“I don’t see why.”
“Of course you don’t, and it’s my fault for not fully explaining. Were you not aware that Randall Trevlyn’s father is the fifth Earl of Alberdsley?”
“Not really. We hardly gave it a thought, but even