Page 36 of The Bridal Quest

"Oh. A baron, then?" Irene pursued relentlessly.

"My father is Mr. Charles Effington, the son of Sir Hadley Effington," Teresa told her stiffly.

"I see," Irene responded, locking gazes with the other woman.

"One does not need a high title to be well-bred," Teresa said in a faintly defiant tone.

"No doubt you are right," Irene relented. "You are saying that it is not a man's family that makes a gentleman, but his manners—education and courtesy, a refinement of taste."

"Yes, exactly." Teresa seized on this explanation with an air of relief.

"So, then, a well-mannered, well-spoken, well-educated merchant is no doubt the equal—or even the better—of a nobleman."

"What?" Teresa stared at her. "No, of course not. I—I didn't say that."

"But if it is not one's bloodline that provides good breeding but a courteous air or the manner of one's speech—"

"I didn't say that!" Teresa cried. "No, you are twisting my words." Thoroughly flustered, she looked around the table as if for help.

"Irene, stop baiting the girl," Lady Odelia interrupted, sounding amused. "It is hardly fair to engage in a battle of wits with an opponent so ill-equipped as Teresa."

Francesca let out a short bark of laughter, quickly smothered and turned into a cough. Teresa shot Lady Odelia a murderous look but said nothing.

"Please forgive me, Lady Odelia," Irene replied, ignoring the glare that Teresa had now turned on her, and returned her attention to her plate.

After the meal, when the gentlemen had retired to the smoking room for port and cigars and the women were making their way to the music room, Francesca slipped her arm through Irene's as they walked down the hall.

Leaning her head close, Francesca murmured, "It was quite admirable of you to defend Lord Radbourne as you did. However, I think you have made a bitter enemy of Lady Teresa."

She nodded toward the woman in question, who was walking alone ahead of all the other women. Irene knew that Francesca was right. Even Teresa's stiff back radiated displeasure.

Irene shrugged. "I have earned far worse anger than hers, I'll warrant." She smiled a little. "And I have survived. I have little doubt I will survive Lady Radbourne's wrath."

"I would put my money on you," Francesca agreed. "But I would not discount the countess. She dislikes you, and you stand in her way."

Irene glanced at Francesca in puzzlement. "Stand in her way? How can I do that?"

"Maisie filled me in on the gossip in the servants' hall. Apparently Lady Radbourne is counting on Gideon's not marrying. As long as he does not marry, her son Timothy is his heir. Once Gideon marries, Timothy's status is much less certain. Gideon will likely have a son—indeed, he could have several. So she would like to see the earl remain unwed."

"It seems a faint hope to me," Irene opined.

Francesca shrugged. "I imagine she hopes that if she plays up Gideon's impossibility as a husband, she will frighten off prospective wives."

"I should think the man's personality would do that well enough by itself," Irene commented.

Francesca looked over at her. "If you feel that way about Lord Radbourne, why did you come to his defense?"

It was something Irene had wondered about herself. She gave Francesca the only response that she had been able to come up with. "I liked Lady Radbourne's needling him even less."

Francesca just nodded, making no comment.

"I have always disliked unfairness in any form," Irene went on. She did not add that she herself had been somewhat surprised by the fierce blaze of anger that had shot up in her at the other woman's remarks.

"No doubt," Francesca murmured.

"I realize that it was quite unnecessary, of course. After all, Lord Radbourne is clearly a man who can take care of himself and needs no defense from me."

"Mmm. Well, I suppose that necessity had little to do with it," Francesca replied.