and upon their families because of some man. Had they no pride? How could they do such a thing? Now, for the first time, Evleen knew what a mad, heated, utterly irrational desire for a man could do. Nothing on earth compelled her to do what her mother said. Suddenly it didn’t matter what her mother wanted. Nothing mattered, except her passionate desire to be in Thomas’s arms again, feel his lips on hers, and do those forbidden things that until now she could only guess about and dream about.
Evleen hated to even think how devastated Mama would be. Yet she knew Sinead O’Fallon was a reasonable woman, compassionate, and kind. Given time, perhaps she would forget money and titles, and be proud to have for a son-in-law the kindest, most witty, most exciting man in all the world.
* * *
Outside, Evleen stood by the curb, clutching her light wrap about her, searching for the Trevlyns. All around, departing guests milled about. Carriages and horses clogged the streets. The air was filled with the cries of impatient coachmen who had picked up their passengers and were anxious to move from the curb.
To her surprise and disgust, Montague approached. And she thought she’d seen the last of him this night!
“Ah, my dear Evleen,” he began, his voice even thicker than before. “Are you ready to apologize for your rudeness?”
“I shall apologize when hell freezes over, Lord Eddington.”
“But see here...” As Montague rocked back and forth on two unsteady feet, his muddled mind groped for words. “Haven’t you heard... uh, what a great catch I am? Come, my sweet, it would be to your advantage to be more friendly.”
He reached for her. Repulsed, she backed away, just as Lydia and her daughters approached. “Leave me alone, sir,” she coldly replied, too angry to care if the Trevlyns overheard. “You are most certainly not a great catch. You’re nothing better than a cup-shot scapegrace, and I want nothing more to do with you. Imeacht gan teacht ort!”
Montague appeared taken aback. “What does that mean?”
“It means, ‘may you leave without returning.’”
Montague appeared nonplused for a moment, then gave her an overelaborate, and rather unsteady bow. He mumbled, “In that event, I shall bid you goodnight, but you haven’t heard the last of me, my love,” and disappeared into the crowd.
“How rude of you, Evleen,” Lydia exclaimed.
“But, Mama, didn’t you hear what he said?” asked Amanda.
Lydia ignored her daughter and glared at Evleen. “No lady of impeccable breeding would ever say such things.”
For once, Evleen did not care to humble herself. “He deserved it, Mrs. Trevyln.”
Charlotte looked amazed. “I simply cannot understand how you could have talked to Lord Eddington in that fashion.”
Evleen ignored her. In uncomfortable silence they were waiting for their carriage when the sound of the frantic neighing of a horse came from up the street, followed by a shout of warning. There was silence for a moment, then horrified screams and more shouting. Men started running. With a sense of premonition and dread, Evleen ran, too, until, halfway up Bolton Street she saw a dark, still bundle lying on the cobblestones and a horse with an empty saddle standing close by.
She stood frozen. It couldn’t be, but that bundle in the street lay so still. Her mind refused to accept the horrifying possibility, and yet she knew that only moments earlier, she had been talking to Montague, telling him to leave and not return. And now...
In a daze, she heard a familiar voice call, “My brother!” saw Thomas rush past and kneel beside the still figure. Just then, Lydia and her daughters came to stand beside her. “It cannot be Montague,” Lydia said in disbelieving horror.
“I’m afraid it is.”
“Is he dead?”
Before Evleen could say she didn’t know, someone shouted, “Eddington was thrown from his horse and hit his head. The poor devil’s dead!”
Amanda looked stunned. Bettina started to cry. Charlotte, her hand pressed to her mouth, gasped in consternation. Her knees sagged, and she would have collapsed had not her mother and Evleen caught and supported her.
A grim-lipped Lydia looked to Evleen for support. “Help me. We must get my girls to the carriage at once.”
“Of course.” Evleen cast one more horrified look at the still body in the street and the small knot of people gathered around. Thomas was there. She longed to comfort him, but Lydia needed her.
With a heavy weight on her heart, she helped Lydia half-carry a grieving, near-hysterical Charlotte back to their carriage, along with her