start that her mother’s ailment was not likely to get better and could only get worse. It was almost too much to bear, to see her once-proud, once-strong mother reduced to being an near-helpless invalid.
“It’s time we talked about the future,” said Sinead. It was as if she’d read her daughter’s mind. She sighed and took Evleen’s hand. “I shall be leaving soon.”
“Don’t. You mustn’t say it.”
“It must be said.” A look of despair filled Mama’s eyes. “I confess, I’ve thought and thought, but I don’t know what to do. The eight hundred pounds is gone. As you well know, what little money we have comes from the English lessons I give... gave, I should say. I cannot teach anymore.”
“Then I can do it, Mama. My Gaelic is as good as yours.”
“True, daughter, and I’m relying on you, but the money from the lessons won’t be nearly enough.”
“There’s the sheep.”
“They bring in but a pittance.”
Evleen said firmly, “Somehow we’ll make do.”
“I wanted my daughters to find good husbands. I wanted Patrick to go to Trinity College in Dublin.” Sinead laughed with bitter irony. “Well, he won’t now, will he? He’ll likely end up just another poor fisherman while you girls, unless you marry, will be forced into service where you’ll spend your days scrubbing hearths and emptying chamber pots.”
“What a dreadful future.” Evleen replied, wanting to make light of Mama’s dire prediction. She smiled and squeezed her mother’s hand. “In the first place, you’re going to get better. In the second, somehow or other, we’ll scrape by.”
“Scrape by,” Sinead repeated mockingly. “I wanted better things for you.”
“I can always marry Timothy, you know.”
“Saints preserve us. After all these years you’re finally admitting you’d be best off with Timothy Murphy? Will wonders never cease. What brought on this change of heart?”
“I’m twenty-four, time is passing, and I know Timothy would be good to our family.” Speaking humorously, she went on, “I used to think someday a knight in shining armor would come knocking at my door. He would be handsome, wealthy, kind, tender, and—”
“Irish.”
“Very Irish. We would fall in love and he would carry me off to a life of bliss. That’s what I used to think. Lately I’m not so sure.”
“Now you’re getting some sense in your head.”
“I know I could be happy with Timothy, at least reasonably so.”
“That’s wise, especially since the chances of your prince finding his way to our humble cottage are rather slim.”
A sudden pounding on the door caused Evleen to jump up in alarm. “Who could it be at this hour?” She went to the one small window and looked out, but it was dark outside, and raining, and she couldn’t see a thing. “One of the neighbors must be in trouble,” she surmised as she flew to the door and swung it open.
Lord Thomas.
She gasped and stiffened. There he stood, completely unexpected, drenched and looking miserable. He bowed low, water pouring off his beaver hat. In an unconcerned voice, he said, “Ah, good evening, Miss O’Fallon. Lovely weather we’re having, wouldn’t you say?”
“You.”
“Yes ‘tis I.” He glanced over his shoulder at two horses and a curricle, barely visible in the black night. “I would have arrived at a more decent hour, but it seems I got lost and ran off the road in the dark.” He smiled wryly. “Actually, I am wet and close to freezing. You have no idea how much I’m hoping you’ll allow me into your warm abode, despite my being an Englishman.”
“I wouldn’t let a dog stay outside on a night like this.” Evleen swung the door wide, pleased with herself for finding an apt riposte despite her shock at seeing him again.
“First, my horses,” he said. “Your stable–?”
“The stable’s in the back,” Darragh said over Evleen’s shoulder. “There’s plenty of room.” In an excited voice, she added, “How lovely to see you again, Lord Thomas.”
Lovely? thought Evleen. Dread filled her heart. Lord Thomas could be here for only one reason.
Minutes later, the cottage was bustling as Darragh made tea and Evleen threw an extra lump of peat into the fireplace. Lord Thomas, finally warm after standing shivering for a time by the fire, sank into a chair and remarked, “Ah, warm at last. I would not recommend such a journey to my worst enemy.”
“Can we assume, sir, you were just passing by?” Evleen asked, tongue-in-cheek.
“No, you cannot assume.”
Evleen had to take a moment to gather her wits. Her emotions were mixed, to say the least. Her mother’s words lay