happen. Thomas watched with sympathy as Lord Trevlyn dipped his pen in the ink stand and started diligently writing his letter. It won’t do you any good, sir. You don’t know Sinead O’Fallon. Never in a million years will she allow her son to come to England.
* * *
It was the beginning of summer when Evleen, who had been working in the garden, entered the cottage and knew immediately something was wrong. “What is it, Mama?” she asked in alarm, seeing the grim, tight-lipped look on her mother’s face.
“A letter has arrived.” She was sitting at the table, staring at a piece of folded parchment lying before her, fastened by a large red wax seal.
Lord Thomas, Evleen immediately thought. Since his visit, he had been much on her mind. “I would guess it’s from England. Aren’t you going to open it?”
Mama’s lips pinched even tighter. “The letter is from Lord Trevlyn, Patrick’s grandfather. I have no need to open it. I know what it says.”
He told. Evleen’s heart sank. She sank into the chair across from her mother and tapped a firm finger on the letter. “It won’t go away, you know. You’d best open it. You’ll never know what he has to say if it’s just sitting there.”
“You’re right.” Sinead took up the letter, broke the seal, unfolded it and skimmed the contents. Her face grew grim as she remarked, “Just as I suspected,” and began to read aloud.
My Dear Madame,
Lord Thomas has just returned from Ireland and has informed me I have a grandson, product of your union with my son, Randall.
I cannot begin to express what joy this news has given me and how much I now regret my reluctance to discover more about the life Randall led in Ireland before his tragic death. I had no idea Randall had married and that you had borne his son. In my own defense, my only explanation for my derelict behavior involves the unfortunate circumstances surrounding Randall’s hasty departure from England. His disgrace left me devastated, angry, and keenly disappointed in my only son. Still, I am at fault for disowning him. I regret my hasty, ill-thought-out decision never to mention his name again, or my demand that no news of him ever reach my ears and that I never see him again.
Now, having heard the wonderful news that I have a grandson, I am anxious to make amends. It is my devout and humble wish that you send Patrick to me, here in England, where he will lead a life suitable for a young lord. Thomas has given me a glowing description of Patrick and tells me what a fine young lad he is. It would impolitic of me to compare his potential future here in England with his future in Ireland. I can only assure you that should Patrick come to live with me, he would be accorded all that is rightfully his. That includes the best of tutors until he is old enough for Eton. After Eton, he will be sent to Oxford, then on to Europe for the grand tour. As heir apparent, he will inherit my entire estate, which includes several homes and vast tracts of land throughout the country, including Aldershire Manor, this most beautiful country home in which I, my brother and his family reside. He will also inherit my fortune which is considerable, I can assure you.
To sum up, if Patrick comes to England, he will live a life of privilege and luxury, his future assured. Naturally I am not unaware of the considerable sacrifice I am asking that you make. I understand you have four unmarried daughters. With that in mind, I propose to compensate you and your family with the sum of forty pounds a year, payable your entire lifetime and beyond, if necessary, until your last daughter marries. To this purpose I will arrange to set up an account through a solicitor and bank of your choosing. Naturally, I trust you realize my offer is made in good faith, as just compensation for the loss of the company of your son.
I trust you will let me know as soon as possible of your decision in this matter. Rest assured, Patrick will be treated not only with due consideration and respect, but I will love him with all my heart and see that he has a good, happy, and rewarding life here in England.
Respectfully yours,
Trevlyn
“How dare he!” Sinead, fire in her eye, dropped the letter on the table as