Chapter 12 #2
She heard the smile and approval in Matteo’s voice just as she felt him trace her hand with his fingertip. Her hand tingled, feeling the soft movement, but she forced herself to seem unaffected, to feign indifference. When her heart started to beat rapidly, Helena pulled her hand away and stood up.
“I must get ready for supper, Your Grace,” Helena said louder than she had intended.
Matteo, still languid against the chair, seemed to be watching her every expression.
“I- I shall see you again tomorrow evening.”
Standing up, Matteo nodded.
“I look forward to it, Helena.”
To her consternation, he took her hand again and kissed it. Without saying another word, he walked to the door of the sitting room and, with one last look, smiled at her.
When she was alone, Helena walked to the settee and lay her whole body down on it. Facing the ceiling, she attempted to even out her breathing.
Matteo was affecting her in completely different ways now, ways that she had not known he could.
With feelings that she had not known she could feel.
Should she be worried? Yes, she should. Matteo was much too charming for his own good.
But no, it was more than that. She was also starting to see in him things that surprised her.
You must stay guarded. All of this is nothing but a pretense. You cannot let yourself forget that. You must remember this, for your own good.
Yes. As long as she remained mistress of herself, in possession of her thoughts and feelings, she would be away from danger. And she would keep reminding herself that.
“… But I would not believe them until I heard it myself. And so, I climbed up the tower—”
“No!” Faith and Grace both exclaimed.
“Why would you do such a thing?” Chastity asked.
“At the time, I felt that I had no choice,” Matteo said. “Everyone believed Michael over me.”
Helena, Chastity, Faith, Grace, and Matteo all sat together in the Huntington House sitting room as they exchanged stories.
On Matteo’s turn, he had relayed his experience in a French chateau belonging to a great uncle of his.
The dimmed atmosphere of the room, together with the dancing of the firelight, had made storytelling a natural sequel to the music that they had recently enjoyed.
When Matteo had arrived at Huntington House earlier that evening for the planned family supper, he had not been sure what to expect.
But the fact that the Earl and Countess would not be joining them did not come as a surprise to him.
He was taking it as a fact as well that Helena was basically the parent to all her younger sisters, not just Chastity.
The more time Matteo spent in Faith and Grace’s company, the more he observed that they were like two forces opposite in their characteristics. Where Faith was sharp and serious, Grace was cheerful and mischievous. One an immovable object, the other an unstoppable one.
Dinner had fared well, they spoke of various topics ranging from his country seat, Valen Castle, to Chaucer, to the popular composers and—to Chastity’s embarrassment—her suitors.
When they had removed to the sitting room to play the pianoforte for Matteo, the two younger sisters had become more comfortable with him.
“Helena, you should play first since you are the eldest,” Faith said, as she opened the fallboard of the pianoforte.
Helena sighed. Picking up the music sheet that she had chosen earlier in the evening, she proceeded to sit on the bench.
“You have been forewarned that my playing is merely tolerable,” she reminded Matteo.
“Do not listen to her, Your Grace.” Grace said, “She always says that, so one will be surprised at how good she really is at playing.”
“Away with you, Grace!” Helena said, laughing.
And Grace’s statement was, in fact, a true statement; Helena played beautifully in Matteo’s opinion.
Chastity played after her, followed by Faith, and then Grace.
Faith might be the most technically proficient among the four sisters, but Faith was not the one who drew his eyes.
He had watched Helena openly, observing the line of her shoulders and the gentle swaying of her head as her fingers danced over the keys of the instrument.
He caught himself leaning closer to catch every detail of the performance—the deft movements of her fingers, the spark of concentration in her eyes, and most of all, the easing of her perpetually serious expression.
When Helena finished, she looked up from the pianoforte, and he caught her eye instantly. He grinned his applause and delight, then went to assist her in standing up.
“Beautiful.”
He took her hand and kissed it.
When tea arrived, they had gathered by the settee and started the exchange of stories. Starting with Matteo himself, until it had come full circle and he took his turn again. The difference this time was that the stories had taken on a supernatural and suspenseful tone.
“If it was I who heard the rattling of chains in the tower, I would have never dared return there!” Grace said, hands on her cheeks.
“Well, what happened next?” Helena asked, enthralled by Matteo’s tale.
Matteo swept his gaze over all four sisters, his green eyes carrying the mystery of what happened next.
“I could see Michael and the other boys from the village—the moon was full, you see, so it was a very bright night. I moved closer to the tower window, the one that Michael had described seeing the phantom from.” Matteo paused for effect, thoroughly enjoying the ladies’ enthralled expressions. “But I found nothing.”
Helena and her sisters all heaved a sigh of relief.
“Until—”
They all jumped in their seats.
“Michael and the boys started shouting and pointing behind me.”
“Oh!” Grace exclaimed. “I cannot bear it!”
She ran and fitted herself beside Helena, grabbing a pillow off the settee and hiding her face behind it.
“The phantom!” Chastity gasped. “It was real! Michael was telling the truth!”
Matteo raised his eyebrows and continued with a suspenseful look.
“I looked behind me, and there in the light of the moon, I saw…”
“Oh!” Grace exclaimed again.
“My great uncle, dressed in a cloak, and laughing at me.”
“What?” Helena cried. “It was all a trick?”
“I had thought as much,” Faith said with a self-satisfied smile. “Michael and the village boys were too eager to show you something that was supposedly too frightening for them. They were all part of it!”
“Perhaps had you been there, Lady Faith, you could have caught them at it. But, alas, twelve-year-old me was not as clever as you.” Matteo said, smiling.
“Did this really happen?” Helena said, now frowning at him.
“I swear to you, my dear Helena,” he pressed his hand on his heart, “it did. I learned after that my great uncle always played the same trick on a young nephew or cousin that had come to visit the chateau for the first time.”
“You have a very imaginative great-uncle. What an interesting time you must have had staying with him.” Faith said, sounding impressed.
“He was that.” Matteo sighed, now with a sad smile on his face. “He passed some ten years ago. But my visits to his house in Florence were always the best years of my boyhood.”
The best summers, at least. He only wished they had been years. Since his parents never bothered with him anyway, would there have been any difference if he had lived in Florence instead?
“What has become of Michael?” Chastity asked, curious.
“The chateau went to him; he now lives there with his wife and children.” Matteo smiled, recalling his last visit there.
“Perhaps you can take Helena to see the chateau after you are married,” Grace said, grinning. “You could show her the tower!”
She will love the view from the tower.
Matteo caught Helena’s eye. Her cheeks turned pink, her eyes suddenly shy. He was unaware that the wistful smile that tugged at his lips softened his whole bearing and rendered her speechless.
“If she would like,” Matteo replied simply.
“Oh, she will!” Grace replied for her sister. “Helena loves old places; she had such praises for Icedale Castle.”
“Is Valen Castle very old, too?” Chastity asked. “I think she will love living there.”
What if? I am, after all, a gentleman with a castle.