Lord Trevlyn regarded Evleen aghast. “Your going back to Ireland is bad enough, but Patrick? How could you do such a thing after all I’ve done for the boy?”
“I know, sir, but you see...” For at least the third time, she explained to Lord Trevlyn her reasons for wanting to go home, although she was careful not to mention Thomas. “And I must take Patrick, at least for a while. Don’t you see I have no choice, sir? Every day he’s here I see him becoming more vain, arrogant, and selfish. Only the firm hand of his mother can set him straight.”
Lord Trevlyn regarded her sadly. “You realize, if Patrick doesn’t stay, I’m within my rights to cancel that fifty pounds a year I promised your family.”
“We managed without it before. We can manage without it again.”
“Will you send him back to me?”
“Of course, when and if he mends his ways.” She eyed him boldly. “You promised, sir, and don’t forget, you said you’d pay our return passage.”
“Hmm... so I did. All right then, go back to Ireland. Patrick’s a fine young man. Let him listen to his mother. There’s no doubt in my mind he’ll mend his ways and then you can send him back.” He regarded her quizzically. “And you?”
“Never,” she replied vehemently. “With all due respect, sir, I’ve had my fill of the ton and all their vainness and silly, useless rules.”
“You’re aware you cannot journey to Ireland alone. You’ll need a chaperone.”
“No, we don’t. We shall go by ourselves.”
“Absolutely not,” Lord Trevlyn said in a voice that brooked no further argument. “A young lady and a boy traveling clear across England and Wales, then crossing the Irish Sea, most certainly need protection. I shall send... by Gad, I know who can do it. My brother, Walter, will accompany you.”
She knew further protest was futile. Besides, she liked poor, hen-pecked Walter well enough. “All right then, it’s settled.”
“When will you leave?”
“First thing tomorrow morning.” She gave him a rueful smile. “You’ve been wonderful, Lord Trevlyn, and I much appreciate what you’ve done for us, but I know now England is not for me.”
He returned her smile and nodded graciously.
Strange, she thought as she left the room, Lord Trevlyn was not nearly as upset as she thought he would be. Did he know something she did not? It was if he didn’t believe she really planned to leave.
Chapter 17
By dawn’s first light, Evleen was packed and ready to leave. Even though doubts assailed her, she could hardly wait to remove herself from this cruel, uncaring country and return to her beloved Ireland. She felt little joy, though. Mama would be crushed that her eldest daughter had not found that rich, titled Englishman. And then there was Thomas. She felt an acute sense of loss, just thinking about him. In her heart she knew she could never love another man and doubtless would stay single for the rest of her days.
Downstairs, she found Patrick dressed, ready, and in high spirits. He had shown no great regret when she told him they were leaving England. “I shall miss Grandfather,” he said, but then his eyes lit as he added, “I can hardly wait to see Mama and the girls again.”
They ate a quick breakfast. Afterwards, followed by a footman hauling their luggage, as well as Lord Trevlyn himself, they made their way to the marbled front portico where Lord Trevlyn’s coach awaited.
“I wish you Godspeed on your journey,” Lord Trevlyn said brightly after hugging Patrick and pecking Evleen on the cheek. “Patrick, always take pride in who you are. Never forget you are not simple Patrick O’Fallon, but Viscount Montfret, heir to my estate and title.”
At another time, Evleen would have protested Lord Trevlyn’s admonishment to Patrick. She would have ardently proclaimed that pride in one’s inherited title was misplaced. Far better for Patrick if he took pride in his honor, integrity, and the manner in which he conducted himself, and that included his treatment of his so-called inferiors. But the old man meant well. He had been part of this stilted, vainglorious society all his life, and knew no other. Strange, how little upset he seemed. She had expected he would be distraught his grandson was leaving, but instead he appeared exceedingly cheerful.
“Where is Walter?” she asked.
“Er... you’ll find your escort inside my coach. Er, goodbye, my children.” With obvious haste, Lord Trevlyn retreated inside his mansion. Surprising. She would have thought he