exclaimed over the immense size of one coach’s back and front springs.
“No, I don’t think you’re being ladylike,” he answered equitably, “but that’s a compliment. Some ladies I know are so stiff and proper they would not deign to show an interest in anything as lowly as carriage springs. That you do, only shows what a bright young woman you are.”
Despite herself, she found herself glowing from his praise. Most certainly, Lord Thomas wasn’t as bad as Randall.
The exciting journey ended in London, where Lord Thomas stopped off at his family’s townhouse long enough to appropriate the family coach and coachman. After a quick trip, they were about to arrive at Aldershire Manor.
At last she was going to meet the Trevlyns. Evleen felt vast relief mixed with trepidation as the coach-and-four turned into a long driveway and the stone turrets and gray stone walls of Aldershire Manor came into view.
“Look, Evleen,” Patrick called, “have you ever seen such a big house in all your life?”
As the coach rolled to a stop, Evleen looked down at herself and bit her lip. How crumpled she looked. Early this morning she had washed and dressed, aware she must look her best, but after six days of traveling, even her Sunday gown looked downright dowdy. At least her straw bonnet hid her hair, which was, she had concluded, a hopeless mess. Patrick also looked bad, she thought, examining the rumpled child. This morning in London she made sure he dressed in his best jacket and trousers, but she suspected his appearance fell far short of the high standards of the Polite World.
As she brushed at her skirt, she realized, to her disgust, that her knees were shaking. “Look at us,” she said to Lord Thomas, “Lord Trevlyn will take one look and send the two of us straight back to Ireland.”
Lord Thomas laughed as he sprung from the carriage and then handed her down as if she were a queen. The moment their hands met, she felt a tingle, as she had every time they had accidentally touched since that moment on the boat that she could not stop thinking about. You know very well the reason, Evleen O’Fallon. What had he meant by that? And here she’d been so seasick she couldn’t even ask, just moan and groan like a fool. But then, she reasoned, if she hadn’t been seasick, he wouldn’t have said what he said because his remark was doubtless out of pity, and nothing more. And yet... there were those glances he kept giving her, as though he couldn’t keep his eyes off her. But on the other hand?
She knew her reasoning had to be correct because ever since they disembarked from The Countess of Liverpool, he’d not said another personal word and had, in fact, conducted himself with the utmost politeness, bordering on remote.
“You look fine, Miss O’Fallon,” Lord Thomas said gravely. “I’ve no doubt Lord Trevlyn will be ecstatic to see you both and more than grateful you’ve come clear from Ireland.”
“And looking like the Irish peasants we are,” she glumly remarked.
“I do not want to hear you talk that way,” he said, and added with a smile, “No matter what happens, don’t ever forget you’re descended from the Kings of Ireland.”
No matter what happens? What did he expect? She was about to ask what he meant by that, and also tell him the Kings of Ireland were of no help to her now, when a white-haired old man with a cane hobbled onto the marble-columned portico. His eyes lit at first glimpse of the young boy now springing down from the coach. “Patrick,” he exclaimed in a voice filled with joy and wonderment. “I am Lord Trevlyn, your grandfather.”
Without hesitation, Patrick stepped forward and held out his hand. “I am delighted to meet you, Grandfather.”
The old man’s eyes misted with joy. He seemed nearly overcome. “You look just like your father,” he said, his voice choked with emotion.
“Did my father have red hair, too, sir?”
An expression of delight crossed Lord Trevlyn’s face as he bent to hug the boy. “I suspect your red hair comes from your mother, Patrick, but you greatly resemble your father just the same.” Over Patrick’s head, he regarded Thomas. “Ah, my boy, how can I thank you? And you must be Evleen,” he remarked, making her instantly feel welcome with his kind, warm eyes. “You are most welcome. From now on I shall consider you one of the family, as much as