if we had, of what significance is it?”
“Can’t you see?” She could tell Lord Thomas was trying to control his patience. “Randall was his only son, the heir apparent. His first son, and that would be Patrick, became the heir apparent when his father died.”
“That may be, but surely by now Lord Trevlyn has made other arrangements.”
Lord Thomas took a deep breath. He appeared to be trying to control a certain agitation. “As it stands now, there’s an heir presumptive, Trevlyn’s brother, Walter. But can’t you understand? When Randall died, Lord Trevlyn should have been notified at once and told Randall had a son. As matters stand, the brother is first in line to inherit the title, the estate, the entire fortune, which is considerable, I assure you.”
“Fine, let him.” Mama’s voice. She had come outside to join them. Wrapping a shawl about her thin shoulders, she continued, “I don’t care if Patrick stands to inherit the crown of England. I don’t care how poor we are, he’ll be better off right here in County Clare than he’d ever be in England.” Even in the darkness, Evleen could see her mother proudly lift her chin. “My son is Irish born and bred, sir. This is where he belongs. As long as I have a breath in my body, he’ll not set a foot across the Irish Sea.”
Shoulders set in a resolute manner, Mama spun on her heel and marched back inside.
“Then that’s the end of it,” said Evleen.
“So it would appear.” He sounded regretful.
She had to admit to herself that Lord Thomas was not at fault. Obviously he had nothing personal to gain, and his genuine concern had been for Patrick, not himself. “I appreciate your interest. It appears you have nothing to gain from this. I must say, you’re not a bad sort, for an Englishman.”
He laughed. “I’m glad you don’t find me the complete villain. Lord Trevlyn is my father’s best friend. I was simply doing him a favor, checking on his land. Had I known I’d discover he had a grandson—”
“But you won’t tell him, will you?” She was suddenly concerned, aware this might not be the end of it. She waited for his reply, but he was silent. “Will you?” she repeated suspiciously.
“I...” Thomas paused, as if in deep thought. “In all good conscience, I cannot promise I won’t inform Lord Trevlyn he has a grandson.”
“But why?” she asked, suddenly alarmed. “What good would it do? My mother told you what she thought, and I agree. Patrick is Irish through and through. He’s done without Lord Trevlyn and... and...” sputtering, she continued, “all those English relatives all his life. Why would he want anything to do with them now?”
“Perhaps you should ask Patrick.”
“I don’t need to ask Patrick,” Evleen replied, her anger mounting. And just when she was beginning to like this man. “Patrick is very bright, I grant you, but he’s still a child. He will do what his mother thinks best for him. And what’s best for him is to stay here in County Clare and not be torn from the arms of his loving family.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean–”
“Is there something wrong, Evleen?”
It was Timothy, come to check on her. Good. His timing was perfect. “There’s nothing wrong, Timothy. Lord Thomas and I were having a discussion, but now we’re almost done.” She raised her chin, having only one more thing to say to this troublesome Englishman. “You English look down upon us Irish. Don’t deny it. You think because we’re poor, we’re ignorant. You think our children are all illegitimate and we find the ultimate solution to all our problems at the bottom of a glass of Guiness.”
Even in the darkness she could tell Lord Thomas was taken aback. “But I hardly think–”
“Let me finish,” she declared, her brogue growing thicker as she talked. “We may not be rich, but we are just as good as you are, sir. Just as smart, and just as capable of guiding our own lives. The O’Fallon’s are a happy family, and that includes Patrick, despite this business you’re tellin’ us now about being an heir apparent. Saints preserve us! He’s an O’Fallon, through and through, so think about what I said, and don’t be causin’ any more trouble than you’ve already caused.” She bobbed her head to signal the end of her pronouncement. “Let’s go inside, shall we, Timothy?”
Thomas watched as Timothy, his arm still protectively around Evleen, led her back into the cottage. I