Page 26 of The Bridal Quest

"Oh!" Irene exclaimed, bringing a clenched fist down hard on her knee. "That dreadful, dreadful man!"

"I take it that your conversation with Lord Radbourne did not go well," Francesca observed wryly.

"He is the most bullheaded, irritating, smug, unlikable man I have ever met! I cannot imagine his family finding any woman who would be willing to marry him. She would be letting herself in for a lifetime of—"

Francesca waited as Irene paused, groping for words. After a moment, she prompted, "Of what?"

"I cannot even imagine what it would be like," Irene said grumpily. "My wits cannot stretch that far. He would be the most awful husband, demanding and infuriating and—" Once again she broke off, releasing her breath in a low noise of frustration.

"Goodness," Francesca said mildly. "He must have said something terrible during your conversation. What was it?"

"Well ..." Irene started, then paused, and finally went on. "Well, it was not so much what he said as the way he said it. He has no manners whatsoever. And he accused me—me!—of disliking his honesty. He likes to hide his rudeness under the cover of 'truth' and seems to think that I should not take offense at what he says. Do you know that he accused me of being afraid to accept Lady Pencully's invitation? Afraid!"

Francesca. taking in the dangerous sparkle in Irene's gold eyes, replied candidly, "I cannot picture you afraid."

"Of course not! I have never— Well, of course, I have been afraid in my life. Who has not? But I have never let anyone see it! I have never refrained from embarking on a course because I was frightened of what might happen."

"I am sure not," Francesca agreed. "But of course Lord Radbourne does not know you well enough to know your true nature."

"Exactly. Yet he speaks as if he knows what I think. What I feel. It is absurd."

"Well, he is not accustomed to polite conversation. No doubt it is the result of his unfortunate upbringing."

Irene let out an inelegant snort at Francesca's offering. "I have met stableboys with better manners than he. It is his personality. He could have been reared as a prince, and he would still behave like a boor."

"Even so, I do not doubt that he will have little trouble finding a woman who is willing to put up with his manners," Francesca said. "Not someone like you, of course. But someone else who hasn't the courage to keep him from riding roughshod over her as you would. Or the wit to teach him how to act appropriately."

"No doubt," Irene replied shortly.

"She will see only the advantages of the situation, the opportunity, and none of the dangers and drawbacks." Francesca looked at Irene as she went on. "And of course, some women cannot resist the lure of a handsome man. His features are rather arresting."

"I suppose." Irene shrugged, adding. "If you like that sort of look. Personally, I find him too rugged. He is so large. And there is such a hard appearance to him. His cheekbones are so sharp, and his jaw is too square for true handsomeness. Do you not agree?"

Francesca nodded. "Yes, of course. Nor am I fond of brown eyes."

"No, his eyes are green," Irene corrected. "I find his coloring odd, for his hair and brows are black, and his skin is dark, so one would expect his eyes to be dark, as well. But his eyes are quite green. Not attractive at all."

"You are quite correct."

"And he wears his hair too long."

"Most unfashionable."

"The sort of hair you would expect a ruffian to have, not a gentleman." Irene paused thoughtfully. "And he has a scar at the corner of his eyebrow. It quite detracts from his looks."

"Really? I am surprised I did not notice."

Irene nodded and pointed to her right eyebrow. "It is here, just before the end of the brow."

"And he does not smile," Francesca pointed out.

Irene looked away. "Well, I did see him smile once, and it was—" For just an instant her face softened. "It made him look quite different." She shook her head. "But of course, one could not spend one's life waiting for a smile every now and then."

"No," Francesca agreed. "I suppose not, even if it was a very special smile."

"Yes."

"And good looks are not that important, really," Francesca continued, watching her. "It is superficial, after all, to choose a husband because he makes one's pulse flutter."