Chapter 5
Chapter Five
“You must at least agree with me, Helena, that Lord Algate is a good listener,” Chastity said, a small smile on her lips.
Helena knew that her sister was trying her best to look for the good qualities in the literally quiet gentleman. Trying to match Chastity’s intentions, she considered her answer.
“He should be, for that is all he does.” Helena laughed.
The sisters were enjoying the remainder of the day with a walk at Hyde Park. The weather was perfect for it. Although the air was starting to turn crisp due to nightfall, it was still comfortable enough to be freely walking about.
Having received callers for most of the day, Helena felt a great need to step out of doors after Dahlia and the twins made their leave.
“Tell me, how many sentences have you heard him speak since we met him at the ball?” Helena continued.
Chastity considered, then counted silently using her fingers.
“If you discount the greetings, then five at least.”
Both sisters laughed.
“I cannot at all imagine speaking so little.” Chastity declared.
“Nor can I, especially not with sisters like you, Faith and Grace!” Helena teased.
“You would have to scold us with your eyes.” Chastity’s own eyes danced with laughter at the image.
“He lives alone; Lady Chapman told me. His mother and sister have been living in Vienna since his sister married an Austrian count.”
“How quiet it must be in his house.” Chastity giggled. “Imagine how loud he shall think our household is, especially with Faith and Grace arguing.”
“Indeed,” Helena said with a grin.
“But for all his silence, I think him very amiable.”
“And pray tell, how can you even know that since he rarely speaks?”
“He nods and smiles and seems generally pleased with what people around him say.”
Helena shook her head, smiling.
“I cannot for the life of me imagine being married to a man who rarely speaks, aside from the basic communications, how on earth will you know how the other feels?”
At her statement, Chasity looked at her sister intently, consideringly. Suddenly serious, she went on.
“Do you think you shall ever marry, Helena?”
Taken by surprise, Helena shrugged her shoulders dismissively.
“Perhaps not.”
“But why not?” Chasity asked.
“Because my ideal man does not exist,” Helena said dramatically, making Chasity giggle.
“He must be a gentleman who has a castle, one who is intelligent; he should be able to make me laugh. He should be handsome, tall, and athletic. He must always agree with everything I say. He must tell me that I am the most beautiful woman in the world at least ten times a day. Oh, and he must have a love for caraway comfits and sugar plums! And he must love the color yellow, for I shall decorate our sitting room, that precise color.”
“You silly goose.” Chastity laughed at her sister’s ridiculous words.
“I tell you that that gentleman does not exist!”
“Good evening, ladies.”
“Your Grace!” Chastity exclaimed. “What a surprise to meet you here.”
Helena and Chastity had been so engrossed in their conversation that they had not at all seen the duke nearing them.
“Is it?” He bowed.
Belatedly, Helena and Chastity curtsied.
“Hyde Park is not so uncommon a place for a gentleman to stroll in.” Matteo smiled pointedly at Helena. “He certainly cannot be accused of following anyone when he decides to have a leisurely walk in a completely public area. An area that was designed for strolling. Open to one and all.”
Chastity blinked in confusion at his speech.
“Er, yes, all true, Your Grace.”
“And would you agree, Lady Helena?” Matteo’s smile turned into a grin.
“Yes,” was her clipped response.
She wanted to erase the grin from his face. And some part of her wanted to muss his too-neat, too-deliberate hair. Although it was a tad too long to be called fashionable, Helena had to reluctantly admit that it gave him a more exciting, more dangerous appeal.
Like a pirate. Stop this at once!
“But now that we are all here, may I accompany you on your walk?”
“Oh, truly, Your Grace, we do not need an escort,” Helena answered hastily.
Oh no, you will not!
“I am sure you do not, capable females that you are,” Matteo persisted. “But perhaps the company of a friend might not be so unwelcome? You must take pity on this lone wanderer.”
Helena both resented and admired the fact that he made it so that she could not deny him their company lest she appear unkind.
What is he doing? Lone wandered, indeed!
“Chastity and I would be honored by your company, Your Grace,” Helena said in the most deadpan tone she could make.
“Excellent!” Matteo said, smiling from ear to ear.
He offered each arm to both ladies, and they continued with their walk, Matteo in between the two females, as was customary for a party such as theirs.
“Were you looking for someone?” Matteo asked as they followed the path from Grosvenor Gate.
“I beg your pardon, Your Grace?” Chastity asked, confused.
“Just before I greeted you, I heard you, Lady Helena, say that a particular gentleman does not exist. Are you looking for someone?” He asked again, this time looking directly at her, mischief reflecting in his eyes.
Helena’s face turned red. She could swear that her blonde hair turned red as well from embarrassment.
What else did he hear? Abominable man!
“Someone who has a preference for yellow?”
What was the punishment for kicking a duke?
“Do you make a habit of listening to other people’s conversations, Your Grace?”
“Out in the park like this, one is sure to hear all manner of interesting things. Especially if they are said while walking among other people.”
Helena took a deep breath and briefly closed her eyes. When she opened them, she found Matteo watching her, green eyes laughing. He winked at her.
The gall! I will not be baited. I will not be baited.
“Yes, the park is, indeed, full of interesting sights. Which one is your favorite here in Hyde Park, Your Grace?” Chastity asked, glancing between her companions as tensions rose.
“The Serpentine, I imagine,” Helena muttered.
She had learned about the happenings in the Serpentine from Dahlia.
Having done research for her series of novels, she’d shared her learnings about the Serpentine with Celine and herself.
These included reports of duels and women of the night, all giving the area a bad reputation among the proper set.
Matteo Castor, being a rake, would, undoubtedly, know of such things as well.
He ignored her.
“Rotten Row, of course,” he answered instead. “There is no more convenient place to go horseback riding in Town than in Rotten Row. Do you ride, Lady Helena?”
“Yes, I have learned to.”
“Are you proficient at it?”
Helena sighed again.
The man can talk. Incessantly.
“I would venture to say that I am competent enough.”
“Helena is more than competent, Your Grace; she rides the best out of us four sisters,” Chastity said staunchly.
Helena noticed that her sister watched the duke and her more closely than before.
“Four sisters!” Matteo said, surprised. “You never mentioned that there were four of you.”
Chastity!
The last thing that she would have wanted to share with Matteo was that she had two more sisters.
“It is not relevant information, Your Grace.”
“Really? And why is that?” Matteo asked, his voice turning cold. But by the insulted look in his eyes, she could tell that he already knew the answer.
Helena faltered for a while, thinking that she might have gone too far. But no, it was her prerogative to keep her sisters—all three of them—away from rakes.
When she did not answer, Matteo pressed on.
“You know, Lady Helena, soon you will need a better excuse for disliking me than that of a rake, for it certainly grows tiresome.”
She glared at him, her expression defiant. Her blue eyes held his green gaze. Neither of them noticed that they had stopped in the middle of the path. Chasity forgotten, their surroundings forgotten.
Was it her imagination, or did the green in his eyes deepen? And was it hurt that she glimpsed in them? Had she hurt him? It certainly seemed so.
Helena was surprised that she felt regret for being so unkind. Regret, yes, and something altogether different. A pull, it made her skin tingle.
All these unexpected emotions confused her. She stepped back, breaking their gaze. Her heart drummed in her chest.
“I feel that I have overstayed my welcome. Good evening, ladies.” Matteo said.
He gave Chastity a polite bow, then, before walking away, looked at Helena one more time.
If she felt her knees weaken or her breath shorten, Helena was quite sure that it was all due to her dislike of Matteo Castor.
Almost at once, Chastity turned to her, the question in her eyes unmistakable.
“What just happened, Helena?”
“Nothing of import. I am sure the duke just needed to be somewhere else. You know how busy the aristocracy can be.”
Chastity was unconvinced, but she was also kind enough to know that her sister needed time to think.
“Shall we head home?” Chastity said instead.
Helena nodded. She hardly noticed that it was Chastity who led the way back.
Matteo was to meet Peter at their club that evening. Upon arriving, other club members greeted him. A group of gentlemen asked him to join them in their round of drinks, but he declined in his usual joking way.
When he sat down at their customary table, he did not bother to wait for his friend, for, from his experience of Lady Chapman’s ball, Peter was apparently no longer a stickler for time.
He could only chuckle at the changes that the married state—the expectant father state—brought about in his friend.
Being a father sounded terrifying to Matteo. To be completely responsible for another human being was terrifying. What if you got it completely wrong?
He smiled humorlessly, recalling his own upbringing.
Being a father—or a mother at that—may make you responsible. But not loving. Not something a child deserves.