his stomach. To see her again... Oh, God, how he yearned to see her again. But he had set his course. His sole purpose in life right now was breeding horses. His carefully planned future most certainly did not include a girl from Ireland who would fit into his well-run existence like water into oil. Everything about such a relationship would be wrong, dead wrong. “I’m sorry,” he told Trevlyn, “To go to Ireland now... I simply cannot. Perhaps in a year or so...”
“Quite all right, I do understand,” Trevlyn broke in briskly. “On second thought, I’ll go myself.” He gave a hollow laugh. “A bit of brisk sea air might be just the tonic for my rheumatism.” He grabbed the reins of his horse, placed his foot in the stirrup, and attempted to swing onto the saddle, but he fell back down, too weak to give himself the proper boost. “Wretched animal won’t stand still,” he muttered. He tried again, grunting from his all-out exertion, but failed a second time. “Damme.” Biting his lip, obviously chagrined, he said, “Well, Thomas, my groom had to help me when I left. I had hoped I could gather enough strength not to make a spectacle of myself but obviously not. Come, give me a boost.”
As Thomas helped his old neighbor into his saddle, he remarked, “Sir, don’t even think about going to Ireland. Believe me, it’s much too strenuous a trip for a man who...”
“Say it, Thomas. For a spindle-shanked old man with the strength of a gnat.” From his mount, Lord Trevlyn regarded Thomas with a look of grim determination. His jaw jutted out as he announced, “I shall go to Ireland. Nothing can stop me.”
“Not a good idea, sir. The journey is a nightmare, and gets worse now that winter’s coming. Perhaps in the spring–”
“I shall leave immediately.” With a great show of wheeling his steed around, Trevlyn started away, but Thomas grabbed the reins and brought him to a stop.
“Please reconsider, sir. Conditions aboard those packets are abominable. The air is confined and suffocating. There’s nausea... the food is disgusting. If you cross from Holyhead to Ringsend, you’re obliged to pay a shilling to the boatman to row you ashore. If you can find a boatman. Otherwise, you’ll wait on a rolling boat for hours, cold and hungry, no doubt heaving your dinner, that is if you were able to keep any of that rotten food down. And then–”
“I’m going. I want my grandson. I have little time to waste”
Thomas felt himself weakening, despite all his plans. Despairing, he realized a journey to Ireland at this time of year could well mean the end of this old man, who, after all, was not only his father’s best friend but had treated his whole family with the utmost care and consideration over the years. One more try. “She won’t give him up, sir, take my word on it.”
“Then... I shall bring the mother to England, along with her son. Make it well worth her while.”
“She would die before she came to England.”
“One of the daughters, then... that Evleen, the oldest one.”
Evleen in England? What an astonishing thought. He was about to give in anyway, but the thought of the Irish girl put him well over the edge. “I’ll go.”
Lord Trevlyn loosed his reins. “You will?”
“I will.”
“How soon?”
“The sooner the better before winter sets in. Tomorrow if you like.”
Lord Trevlyn appeared to be having second thoughts. “Not that I wanted to pressure you...”
Ha. Thomas nearly choked but got the words out. “It’s my pleasure, sir, now that I know how important this is to you. Besides, what’s a few weeks? I’ll still have a lifetime to pursue my own plans.”
Was that strange noise Penelope trying to stifle a laugh? “How suddenly noble you are, Thomas,” she said, lips twitching.
Not so noble, Thomas thought privately. He remembered Tanglewood Hall and a flash of keen disappointment ripped through him. But enough. From this moment on he would set all regrets aside. Most assuredly he would not dwell on yet another delay of his plans. “You took me by surprise, but I’m happy I can be of help, sir.”
“Wonderful.” The old man’s face was wreathed in a smile. “You can do it, my boy, with that charm of yours. Use every power of persuasion you can think of. Money... I’ll set some aside, whatever you need. And be sure to tell the mother she can come along... Bloody hell, tell her bring the whole