of parting, she had not given any thought to the journey itself when here she would be, alone, except for her little brother, in the middle of nowhere, with this tough, attractive man and he... what? Timothy had warned her about his intentions, but as far as she could tell, Lord Thomas was treating her with politeness and that was all. No wonder, she thought glumly. This man came from a world where women adorned themselves in satins, silks, and laces; where they had lady’s maids to coif their hair and iron their gowns; where they would consider themselves disgraced if ever they had to lift a finger to do for themselves. What must he think of me? Evleen uncurled her strong, slim fingers and surreptitiously examined her hands. True, they were tidy and neatly kempt, yet they didn’t have the pampered softness of a lady’s hands. Tending the garden most definitely did not help, she thought, bemused, nor did cooking, or scrubbing the floors.
No wonder Lord Thomas was being only merely polite. He must think of her, if he thought of her at all, as just another poor Irish peasant, so totally beyond the realm of his privileged world that he hardly recognized her as a genuine human being. Doubtless he was counting the hours until this onerous favor he was doing for his father’s friend was completed and he could get back to... his betrothed, perhaps? Or, like so many men, did he have an arrangement? Perhaps not, if he’d just returned from Jamaica. She smiled to herself, thinking how she would love to ask, oh, by the way, Lord Thomas, do you have a mistress?
She caught herself, and wondered why on earth she was bothering to speculate upon the love life of an Englishman. He can have a dozen mistresses, it’s fine with me, she thought, glaring at him. She caught herself again and silently laughed. If the man had seen the resentful glance she’d thrown him, he would not have the faintest idea what she was thinking.
Lord Thomas pointed to the south. “Patrick, there’s an old monastic site not far from here called Clonmacnoise. It dates clear back to the sixth century.”
“Can we see it?” asked Patrick, instantly alert.
Lord Thomas glanced at Evleen. “Shall we? It should not take long. We can take the Marconi Coach road that passes close to Clonmacnoise. The boy would enjoy seeing the old ruins and so might you.”
“Why, I...” Evleen hesitated and bit her lip. The idea of doing something pleasurable had not even occurred to her.
“Why not?” Thomas asked. “How long has it been since you did something purely for enjoyment?”
She replied flatly, “I haven’t had time for enjoyment.”
“That’s evident, Miss O’Fallon.” He gazed at her with his dark, probing eyes. “You’ve done nothing but work and worry about your mother these past few months, haven’t you?”
“So what if I have?” She had spoken defiantly, yet inwardly she was touched by his unexpected perceptiveness.
Thomas appeared to ignore her, and addressed Patrick. “I believe a bit of sight-seeing is in order, don’t you agree?”
“Yes, sir.” The boy added earnestly, “My sister used to laugh a lot, but she doesn’t anymore.”
“Well, then, we’re off to Clonmacnoise.” Lord Thomas gave a smart flick to the reins. “See just ahead? There’s where we turn.”
A short time later, Evleen stood with Patrick and Lord Thomas on the bank of the River Shannon, all taking in the breath-taking view of a green, quiet valley where stood the ancient stone tower and the ruins of the nine churches that made up the monastic site of Clonmacnoise. The site was overgrown and neglected, but beautiful, nonetheless.
“It’s very old, isn’t it?” asked Patrick.
“Founded by Saint Ciaran in five-forty-five AD,” Lord Thomas replied.
Evleen was surprised. “I would not have guessed you had an interest in ancient history.”
“I once had a tutor who delighted in pounding ancient history into my skull.” Thomas shaded his eyes and smiled as he took in the view. “Imagine, Patrick, a weary pilgrim in the year eight-hundred-something, walking across the midland bogs to this mystic place. Or a merchant boating his way down the mighty River Shannon, bringing goods.”
“I can see it, Patrick eagerly cried. He looked down upon the many ruins of old churches, and the vast graveyard with its tall crosses exquisitely carved of stone. “Evleen, can I go explore? I want to see if I can climb inside that big, tall tower.”
“If you’re careful—”
Patrick darted away before she finished. Evleen exchanged amused