exclaimed, rising to his feet, eyes gleaming with excitement. “Tell me what he’s like, Thomas. Tell me...” suddenly he frowned “... no, first, you must tell why you were going to remain silent. Not like you. Why would you not tell me such glorious news? You must have had what you thought was a good reason.” He sank in his chair again and sat tensely, waiting Thomas’s response.
Thomas decided to start with the good part first. It would fit with what he had to say. “I’ll tell you my reason, but first I’ll tell you about Patrick. He’s tall for ten, on the skinny side, as young boys are, yet I can tell from the proportions of his chest and shoulders he’ll grow into a fine, strong man. He’s well-spoken in both Gaelic, English, and French, and possesses excellent manners. He has bright red hair which he gets from his mother, and freckles. He raises rabbits and takes great interest in the world around him. Altogether your grandson is a bright, fine-looking little boy.”
Trevlyn countered, “All well and good, and I’m happy to hear it, but you must tell me why on earth did you not want me to know about my own grandson.”
“Because...” It was Thomas’s turn to shut his eyes a moment, to think. The straight-out truth would be best, he decided. “His mother is Irish through-and-through, sir. She detests the English, just like many of her countrymen, and for a variety of reasons, most of which I am sure you know. Your son Randall... well, there’s no other way to say this... caused her no end of grief. It appears he threw away her entire fortune, with both hands, so to speak, then died and left her destitute. Need I add, the fact that Randall was English did not raise her estimation of the English as a whole.”
“So you’re saying... ?”
“What I’m saying is that I have talked to Sinead O’Fallon, so I know you must not get your hopes up. She is adamant. Never would she allow Patrick to have anything to do with anything English, let alone send her only son to England.”
“Patrick belongs here, with me,” burst Trevlyn. “Just think what I can give the boy.”
“Sinead O’Fallon is a strong, determined woman. I can assure you she would never relent. Never,” Thomas added for emphasis. He must make sure the old man understood and never got his hopes up. “Perhaps when Patrick is grown–”
“The boy belongs to me,” Trevlyn said with quiet but obdurate firmness. “Think who he’ll be, Thomas. I shall bestow all Randall’s titles upon him. He shall be Patrick, Viscount Montfret. Lord Montfret. Doesn’t that sound grand?”
“Lord Trevlyn, you’re not listening to me.” Thomas felt as if he were talking to a stone wall.
“But why would his mother want Patrick to stay in Ireland, digging potatoes, catching fish... whatever those poor Irish do?” Trevlyn clenched his jaw. His eyes narrowed. “I don’t care what it takes, I want my grandson.”
Thomas released a weary, defeated sigh. “And how do you propose to get him?”
“I shall direct a letter to his mother immediately, of course. Once she sees in writing the advantages Patrick will enjoy here in England, I am sure she will relent. You say the family is poor?”
“Very.”
“Then I shall offer her a stipend. How does forty pounds a year sound?”
“A fortune by Irish standards.”
“Well, then.” Lord Trevlyn smiled with satisfaction. “The matter is settled, is it not?” As he spoke, he walked to his walnut desk, sat down, and took up his quill pen. “This will go out with the next post.”
Thomas knew he shouldn’t ask but couldn’t resist. “Had you considered your brother? He was to inherit the title, was he not? I should imagine–”
Trevlyn interrupted with a snort. “Walter,” he said, wrapping the word in contempt. “You think I am not aware how that weak-kneed brother of mine and his silver-tongued wife have been robbing me blind these past few years? If you think I care one whit that Walter won’t inherit my title and my fortune, then think again.”
“Of course,” Thomas replied. No need to add his own opinion of Walter and his wife, or that surely there was trouble ahead if Patrick came to England. Walter was no problem, but with her greed and devious ways, Lydia Trevlyn could be a formidable foe. She could cause endless difficulties if her husband was done out of his inheritance by one small Irish lad.