Chapter 14 #2
Helena giggled, but soon turned serious as she related details that Matteo would have missed.
“I do not have a very good feeling about Lord Clifton, I am sorry to say it, but there it is,” Helena finished.
“I share your sentiments, Helena.” Matteo gestured at the gentleman with his head.
“He has no one to vouch for him save his old friend, Lord Harris. But even he has admitted that it had been many years since they had seen each other. I will be more at ease once I find someone who knows Lord Clifton’s character. ”
Helena was gratified that they felt the same way. She was surprised at how close his musings were to hers.
How similarly we think.
In fact, their approach to keeping Chastity’s well-being was remarkably similar. When they would plan for an event, their methods and solutions matched very well. She had not really given that much thought until that moment.
Could it be that we might have more in common than I had originally thought?
“You really think him insincere in his intentions towards Chastity?”
“Unless something proves me wrong, I really do think so.”
“Perhaps a talk with Chastity is in order,” Helena said, not looking forward to the act.
“Let her have this night though,” Matteo said, watching a happy Chastity.
He is kind as well, yes. That I had noticed before.
Helena nodded her agreement softly.
When the dance ended. Chastity looked as if she had just returned from Paradise. Her mood remained happy as her next dance partner claimed her.
Matteo and Helena stood quietly together when the strains of the music began to play. The next dance was a waltz.
Matteo’s hand reached for Helena’s reticule, which hung on her wrist. With a playful smile at her, he took out the unmarked dance card from within. Using the small pencil that was attached to it, he wrote down his name on the line beside Waltz.
“I believe this dance is mine, Lady Helena.” Matteo smiled at her, his green eyes twinkling. “Unless you object?”
Helena chuckled. She began to nod but hesitated as she looked at Chastity.
“We shall stay close to them.”
“Do you always think of everything, Your Grace?”
“I try my best.”
Helena smiled. She handed him her hand, and he took it in his.
“Does this not remind you of our first night together, my lady?” Matteo asked mischievously.
“Why, Your Grace, if my hand were free, this would end in much the same way that night ended,” she replied with the same mischievous look.
Matteo threw back his head in laughter.
“Then I must express my relief that the waltz is now considered an acceptable dance by polite society.” Matteo grinned at her. “I certainly can appreciate your response to ungentlemanly behavior, not to wish for a repeat of it.”
“I am sorry that I slapped you that night.” She giggled.
“Are you really?”
“No, certainly not!”
“I thought so.”
Standing so close to each other, almost in an embrace, Helena appreciated his grace on the dance floor. He moved almost languidly, as if it were the music that followed his movements.
How easy it felt to be in his company, how easy and exciting it must feel to be in his embrace.
She stopped herself before her mind could go further.
Her mind was easier to control; it was her heart that Helena had trouble with.
Being this close to Matteo made her feel like her skin tingled everywhere.
Like her movements were meant for him and him alone.
“Helena,” he said softly.
She was vaguely aware that they had drifted closer than was necessary for the dance, but for the life of her, she had no wish to pull away. His scent surrounded her, clean and masculine, and somehow, impossibly, she smelled the pine forest that he had found her in more than a year ago.
Helena remembered the scene perfectly in her mind.
She and Dahlia were hunting for pinecones to decorate Dahlia’s Christmas tree with.
In their desperation to find more, they had attempted to shake a pine tree, but to no avail; they found that they were not strong enough to accomplish the task.
And, as if out of nowhere, along came Peter and Matteo.
To them, the action seemed effortless. A rain of pinecones surrounded them, and Helena could still remember the self-satisfied look on Matteo’s face as he proclaimed them the ladies’ heroes.
She breathed in. Was it her imagination, or was Matteo somehow holding her even closer now?
They would surely be frowned upon. In the eyes of the ton, yes, they were engaged, but still not married.
But Helena found that for once, she did not care what society thought.
For once, Helena let herself get lost in the moment.
He is a rake. Do not let yourself fall.
Her mind, too used to being in control, refused to be ignored.
Just this once. Just this one moment. I can give myself this moment.
She let herself get lost in Matteo. But only in that moment.
Something in Matteo was changing. Within him, a shift was happening. As he held Helena in his arms, dancing to the music he barely heard, Matteo realized that somehow, he was not the Matteo that arrived at the ball earlier that evening.
Being near Helena, performing the part that he had promised to fulfill, no longer felt like just a role. It felt like something he could grasp, and it made him want more.
When the dance ended, his hand lingered on her waist, wrapped around it, and he held the position until they left the dance floor. If he heeded his wishes, he would never let her go.
“A drink?” He asked her to cover the seriousness of his thoughts.
“You should go ahead.” She gestured to a group of matrons who gestured to her. “Chastity and I must greet our mother’s friends.”
He watched her as she fulfilled her duty as a daughter and mingled with her mother’s friends.
How was it that he knew what she was feeling?
How was it that he felt responsible for her?
He wanted to protect her from their insensitive and careless words, he wanted to keep her close to him, and he wanted to show them that Helena was worth more than all of them combined.
He knew this, for he had been a man of the world; he had seen and experienced many things. But Helena’s individuality, her clarity, and her loyalty were traits uncommon in the world they lived in. She was rare. She was precious.
The night was making him sentimental. He took a drink from his glass, shaking himself from the gravity of his thoughts, which threatened to overwhelm him.
This is not real, Matteo. You know that.
He admonished himself. How could he let himself pretend otherwise?
He had proposed this arrangement to be of some help for once.
He admitted that he found Helena interesting, that she appealed to him.
Perhaps it was even the reason why he had the urge to be of service to her.
But he had also needed her help in alleviating the pressure of marital expectations. They had agreed to help each other.
Mutual benefits. That was the theme of their whole arrangement.
And we have performed our parts perfectly.
Indeed, so perfectly that it proved difficult to shed the part. Helena was constantly on his mind. More often than not, he forgot that they performed, that every interaction was planned.
You have been very careless, Matteo. You have let yourself want more. And that is dangerous.
Wanting more than you were given was the most pitiful thing in the world. He knew it. He’d learned it over and over again.
But still, he wanted. Wanted the spark of light in blue eyes, the genuine laughter in Helena’s voice, warming the brittle facade he’d built over the years.
As an adult, he had never wanted for company.
No, he made sure that he would be the one people sought out.
He charmed and delighted the people around him, and so it was that Matteo Castor was very seldom alone, and when he was, it was by his own choice.
He sighed. Somehow, his thoughts depressed him. They seemed superficial; his life seemed superficial. Until Helena arrived.
His mind went back to the young boy that he was. If that young boy were here, would he be wanted by any of the people who surrounded him now? Would Helena?
If she saw the needful, insecure boy that he had been—perhaps still was—would she want him?
No one else had, after all.