Yes, indeed, Mrs. Littlebridge agreed. An inveterate social climber, she loved nothing more than gossip and storing up tales that she could repeat to make herself appear more important than she was. Was the bride radiant?
She is pretty in her own way, Miss Cantwell admitted. But no family to speak of. One cannot help but feel that the viscount has married down.
Of course. Mrs. Littlebridge nodded sagely. A bit of a country mouse, I hear.
Exactly. Miss Cantwell gave the other woman a thin smile. But then, Leighton always has been a bitwell, unconventional.
Irene, who felt sure that Miss Cantwells opinion of the viscounts oddity sprang more from that very eligible bachelors complete disinterest in her own person than from anything else, said, I quite like Miss Woodleyor I should say now, Lady Leighton. I find her refreshingly unpretentious.
Maura let out a little brittle laugh. You would find that admirable, of course, Irene. Not everyone admires a lack of refinement as you do, I fear.
I believe Lady Leighton was a good friend of the viscounts sister, was she not? Lady Claire said quickly.
Oh, yes, Lady Haughston took her on as one of her projects, Mrs. Littlebridge affirmed. She introduced the girl to her brother, of course.
And before that, she completely made the girl over. Mrs. Cantwell spoke up. Constance Woodley was an utter dowd before Lady Haughston came along and turned her into a swan.
She has a knack for it, Lady Claire commented. There was that Bainborough girl last Season, and before that, Miss Everhart. Made excellent marriages, both of them.
Indeed. Mrs. Cantwell nodded. Lady Haughston has a golden touch. Everyone knows that if she takes a girl up, that girl is destined to make a good marriage.
Why, Irene, Maura said playfully. Perhaps we should ask Lady Haughston to help you find a husband.
Thank you, Maura, but I am not looking for one, Irene replied tartly, looking the other woman in the eyes.
Not looking for a husband? Mrs. Littlebridge said lightly, and gave a laugh. Really, Lady Irene, what young girl is not looking for a husband?
I, for one, Irene replied flatly.
Mrs. Littlebridges eyebrows lifted a little in disbelief.
Such words are fine for prides sake, Maura commented, casting a knowing smile toward their trio of callers. But you are among friends here, Irene. We all know that any womans true aim in life is to marry. Otherwise, what is she to do? Live in another womans house all her life? She paused and turned her gaze to Irene. Of course, Lord Wyngate and I would like nothing better than to have you as our companion for the rest of our lives. But I am thinking of you and your happiness. You really should talk to Lady Haughston about it. She is a friend of yours, is she not?
Irene heard the bitterness that underlay her sister-in-laws sweet tone. It had always been a thorn in Mauras side that she had come from a provincial family of genteel breeding but unimportant name, that she had not spent her life, as Irene had, among the ton, known to and received by anyone of consequence.
I know Lady Haughston, of course, Irene replied. But we are no more than social acquaintances, really. I would not call Lady Haughston my friend.
Ah, but then, there are so few who could be called your friend, Maura tossed back.
There was a moment of startled silence at that cutting remark, but then Maura adopted an expression of embarrassment and raised her hands to her cheeks. Oh, my, how that must sound! Of course, I did not mean that you have no friends, dear sister. There are a number of them, of course. Are there not, Lady Claire? She cast an appealing glance at Irenes mother.
Yes, of course. Color stained Claires cheeks. There is Miss Livermore.
Of course! Maura exclaimed, her expression clearly stating her relief that Irenes mother had managed to come up with an example. And then the vicars wife back at the country house is so fond of you. She paused, then shrugged, as though abandoning the futile search for friends, and leaned forward, looking at Irene earnestly as she said, You know that I want only what is best for you, dont you, dear? All any of us want is for you to be happy. Isnt that true, Lady Claire?
Yes, of course, Claire agreed, glancing unhappily at her daughter.
But I am happy, Mother, Irene lied, then turned back to Maura, continuing in a flat tone, How could I be anything but happy, after all, living here with you, dear sister?
Maura ignored her words, going on in the same earnest, helpful way. I want only to help you, Irene. To improve your life. I am sure you must know that. Unfortunately, not everyone knows you as I do. They see only your demeanor. Your sharp tongue, my dear, keeps people at bay. However much they might want to get to know you better, your, well, your acerbic wit, your bluntness, frightens people away. It is for that reason that you have so few bosom friends, so few suitors. Your manner is most unappealing to men.
She looked to her friends for confirmation. A man does not want a wife who will correct him or who will ring a peal over his head if he does something amiss. Is that not true, ladies?
Irenes eyes flashed, and she said tightly, Your information, while no doubt well intentioned, is of little use to me. As I told you, I am not interested in acquiring a husband.
Now, now, Lady Irene, Mrs. Cantwell began, with a condescending smile that grated on Irenes nerves.
Irene swung toward her, and the light in her eyes made the other woman swallow whatever she had been planning to say. I do not wish to marry. I refuse to marry. I have no intention of giving any man control over me. I will not meekly become some mans chattel or let some man with less wit than I have tell me what to think or say or do.
She stopped, pressing her lips together, regretting that she had let Maura push her into revealing so much of herself.
Across from her, Maura let out a little laugh and cast a wry look at the other women, saying, A woman does not have to be under a mans thumb, dear. She simply makes him think that he is in control. She just has to learn how to lead a man into doing exactly what she wishes. The trick, of course, is in making him believe that it was all his idea.
Their visitors joined Maura in her arch laughter, and Mrs. Littlebridge added, Indeed, Lady Wyngate, that is the way of the world.
I have no interest in such pretense and trickery, Irene retorted. I would rather remain a spinster than have to cajole and lie to be able to do what I should have every right to do.
Maura clucked her tongue, looking sympathetic. Irene, my dear, we are not saying you should deceive anyone. I am merely talking about making the most of your looks and covering upcertain aspects of your character. You dress much too plainly. She gestured with disdain toward Irenes body. That gown you are wearing, for instance. Why must it be that drab shade of brown? And you have no need to wear such a high neckline. Why not show off your shoulders and arms a little? Even your evening gowns have such an air of severityit is no wonder men rarely ask you to dance! Is it not enough that you are so tall? Must you stand so arrow straight and hide your shape?
Irene could hear the real frustration creeping into Mauras saccharine tones, and she knew that however much her sister-in-law might enjoy pointing out Irenes defects under the guise of helpful advice, Maura was also honestly put out by Irenes lack of suitors. Maura would love to be rid of her altogether, and marriage was the only option open to her, short of murderwhich not even Irene would accuse Maura of being capable of. No matter how much Humphrey was under his wifes thumb, even Maura must know he would not agree to turning his own sister out of the house, and in any case, the woman surely knew that such callous treatment of her husbands sister would earn her the disapproval of the ton. No, as long as Irene remained unmarried, Maura was saddled with hera fact that doubtless irritated her almost as much as it did Irene.