Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
True to his word, Matteo’s landau stopped in front of Huntington House to await Helena in less than half an hour.
“Please make sure that Chastity gets my note, Sally,” Helena instructed her lady’s maid. “And make sure that she has enough rest. Tell Faith and Grace to leave her alone if she so desires.”
“Yes, my lady.”
“Thank you, Sally.”
“My lady,” Mr. Keble bowed. “His Grace is at the door waiting for you.”
“Thank you, Mr. Keble.”
Helena walked out the front door and was greeted by Matteo. For a moment, her breath caught in her throat.
Standing by his landau, framed by the spring sunlight, he presented a striking figure in his finely cut garments.
His dark blue riding coat fitted him perfectly, his cravat styled simply, his buckskin breeches tucked into Hessian boots.
His brown hair, which was still slightly longer than what the current fashion dictated, was swept from his forehead by a gentle breeze.
The smile he sent her brightened his green eyes and weakened her knees.
She had prided herself on her immunity to his good looks; indeed, he was easily the most handsome gentleman of the ton, but she had considered herself above those females who had fawned over and simpered after him. Yet here she was now, speechless at the sight he presented.
But Helena also knew that had she not gotten to know him better, she would not have found him nearly half so appealing. So perhaps it was more than the good looks that had drawn her to him so.
Matteo studied her appreciatively.
“You are looking lovely today, Helena,” Matteo said as he kissed her hand.
“You saw me but half an hour ago, Your Grace,” she chuckled.
“True, but that does not change the fact that you are looking lovely.”
So are you.
She shook her head and chuckled at him in reply.
He assisted her in climbing the landau, then climbed in after her. When they were seated securely, Matteo instructed the coachman to proceed to Hyde Park.
“Shall we drive to Rotten Row first and then on to Ladies’ Mile?” he asked Helena.
“Yes, there will be more ladies about later on, so better to take the more sedate route later as well.”
Matteo looked at her from head to foot again, then smiled, seeming to be satisfied about something.
“What?” Helena asked, smiling herself despite being suspicious.
“Oh, nothing really.”
“Tell me.”
“It is unimportant.”
“Matteo.”
He chuckled.
“Your attire appears to match mine, Helena.”
Quickly looking down at her habit, she realized that, indeed, it was the exact same shade of blue as his jacket.
“Did you ask Sally again—”
“If you recall, my dear lady, I was already dressed when I called on you earlier today.”
Helena frowned, realizing that he was right. Was it a coincidence that she chose the same color when Sally had asked her to pick between the two garments she presented her with?
Or perhaps I unconsciously chose the color to match Matteo.
Helena swallowed. That would mean that—no.
It meant nothing. It was a mere coincidence.
That was all. Pausing, she considered her thoughts.
And what was wrong in deciding to match him?
Did Matteo not choose to match her at the Woodacre ball?
That meant nothing as well; it was just part of the charade that they were playing.
That was all. But to have done it unconsciously…
I must stop! I am overthinking again.
She took a breath to regain the easy feeling of the afternoon. She pushed all thoughts that were, at that moment, unnecessary from her mind and let herself relax. Being out without having to watch and chaperone Chastity was a rare happening, so she would make the most out of this afternoon.
She knew that Matteo still observed her and waited for a reaction from his observation, so she smiled and shrugged her shoulders lightly.
With the hood of the landau pulled down, Matteo and Helena could feel the full bloom of spring around them.
The fresh leaves of the silver birch, rowan, and willow, the scent of the hyacinths, and the bright colors of the daffodils and crocuses made the drive more delightful for the sights and colors they produced.
Beside him, Matteo watched Helena lean out and reach toward a low-hanging branch of willow. Her gloved fingers ran through the leaves, a tender smile on her face.
“We have willow trees lining the drive in Beecham Park.”
“Your family’s country estate?”
“Yes. Whenever I drive by in the barouche, I always reach for the dangling branches.” She paused for a moment, then added, “They look like tears.”
“What do?”
“The willow branches. Willow trees look like they are crying.”
Matteo suddenly understood her actions a while ago. A touch of softness in my stony fiancée. How oddly charming.
“You are wiping the tears away.”
Helena nodded sheepishly.
“I started doing that when I was nine, and it just became a tradition of sorts for me.”
“You miss it. Beecham Park.”
Helena nodded.
“Yes. It is where I spent most of my life, save these past six years, and those only during the London season.”
Matteo could imagine Helena in her country home; he could see her relaxed and unburdened. He imagined that the rigidity of her London schedule did not carry over to the country. To be sure, it was Chastity’s social calendar that most demanded time from Helena’s own schedule.
He imagined her in his side of the country; he imagined her walking the grounds of Valen Castle.
Perhaps he could take her to see Stonehead Mount.
That would be a day’s outing, it would—what was he doing?
He had already lectured himself about wanting more, so why could he not stay mindful of that warning? Why was it so difficult?
Pulling his thoughts back to the present, he looked ahead as he continued the conversation.
“How very fortunate young ladies are that they are not required to leave their homes and go to university instead.”
“Fortunate, do you call it?”
“To some degree, yes. Oxford, or any other of the universities, is not always what they are painted out to be.”
“How so?”
“Well, there is the homesickness, for one thing.”
Yes, despite the fact that he was not really happy at Valen Castle, he had missed it, and extremely so in his first year.
Had it not been for Peter’s friendship at the beginning, Matteo did not know how he would have gotten past his first year in Oxford.
Though he was the son of a duke, he was also an awkward young man, unsure of himself and his worth.
His friendship with Peter had served as a strong foothold for him to grow as a young man.
“Did you miss Valen Castle when you left it? I imagine your leaving must not have been easy for your parents, especially you being their only child.”
“It was easy enough for them. They hardly saw me anyway. I daresay it was my tutors who missed me.” Matteo’s attempt at levity did not get the result that he had hoped, for Helena’s eyes studied him.
“I am sorry.” She took his hand and squeezed it.
“Whatever for?” He smiled at her.
“I know what it is to have absent parents, Matteo.” Helena’s serious gaze never left his face. “Though mine are still alive, I can count with my fingers the number of times I see them. It has been like that for so long that I cannot recall any other way.”
So they were similar in that way. He had assumed that she had been given the responsibility of her sisters because of her experience being out in society. He had no idea that it had been that way for far longer. In answer, he squeezed her hand back.
“Go on,” Helena said, smiling. “Tell me more about Oxford.”
Matteo nodded, eager to lighten the mood again.
“Though there was, of course, academic study—mainly weekly sessions with fellows—Oxford was more for building social connections with peers and making sure that the sons of the gentry came out as polished gentlemen.”
“I do not see what is so bad about that that you should say ladies are fortunate not to attend university,” Helena said unconvinced.
“Imagine this, young men in a lax environment, with not much academic pressure, and surrounded by much tomfoolery.”
Helena still looked unconvinced.
“Youth can be cruel, too, Helena. The things that young men come up with… well, I shall not go into detail.”
“Oh, I see,” Helena said softly.
“But in the end, it was meant to teach young gentlemen of their place in society and how to perform it.”
And, indeed, he had learned. The son of a duke with a prosperous duchy, he learned that he held a certain power, and he learned how to wield that power.
“After my three years at Oxford, the Grand Tour followed.”
“You are not making a gentleman’s education sound unfortunate—if that was even your plan to begin with,” Helena smirked at him.
He ignored her and smiled in memory.
“I had my Grand Tour with Peter, of course, and such a time we had! But Peter’s was cut short because of his father’s death. I, on the other hand, continued on with my tutor for another two years.”
“Your parents must have been so proud when you completed your education.”
“Hmm.”
Were his parents proud? It would have been a miracle had they even known about it. Perhaps that was going too far, but Matteo felt it was accurate to say that they probably felt it was his duty to complete his education, it was not considered an extraordinary achievement on his part.
Matteo finished Oxford. Parliament is in session. Matteo completed his Grand Tour. The new irrigation system is installed.
He imagined the news was just part of the numerous reports his father’s steward and secretary submitted to him regularly.
His non-committal reply had Helena looking at him.
“Was it not something to be proud of?” Helena asked with furrowed brows.
“It was part of my parents’ expectations,” Matteo answered, looking away.
At her silence, it was his turn to look at her. There was a look in her eyes that he was not quite sure how to take.
“I do not want your pity, Helena.”
“It is not pity, Matteo.” Again, he felt her squeeze his hand, which she still held. “It is pride, I am proud of you. You took something expected, something that a less intelligent man would have taken as a right, and made it your own.”
Was it his imagination, or did he feel her move closer to him in the carriage seat?
“My Lady Helena! How are you this fine afternoon?”
Mr. Addison, who approached them from the opposite lane, was driving his phaeton and tipped his hat at her. He smiled at Helena.
“Your Grace.” Mr. Addison added in a less cheerful tone.
“I am quite well, thank you, Mr. Addison,” Helena replied, letting go of Matteo’s hand and moving slightly away.
Matteo, noting—and indeed, not liking her actions—took her hand again in his and, while his other hand wound around her waist and gently pulled her closer to him.
The stiffening of Helena’s back indicated her surprise, but she did not pull away again.
Now, why did I do that?
It was useless to think about it now; the deed was done. He only hoped that he did not cause her distress, but for all that, Matteo found that he was not sorry for it.
“And how are you, Mr. Addison? Enjoying your drive?” Matteo asked smoothly.
“Indeed, Your Grace.” Mr. Addison replied. “It is a fine day for a drive.”
“That it is,” Matteo replied with a smile.
“Forgive me, but I was never able to congratulate you on your betrothal. May I extend my congratulations now?”
“You may, thank you, Mr. Addison,” Matteo said, still smiling.
“Well, I wish you both a pleasant day.”
“And to you as well, sir,” Helena replied, smiling at him.
When they continued on, Matteo frowned at Helena.
“Why did you suddenly let go of my hand when you saw Mr. Addison?”
Helena looked flustered.
“What—I, I… I thought it was an inappropriate gesture out in public.”
“I’m sorry you feel that way,” Matteo smiled at her suddenly, his charming, winning smile. “I quite like holding your hand, Helena.”
When they arrived back at Huntington House, they proceeded once again to the sitting room.
Helena was just ringing for tea when Chastity suddenly entered the room.
“Helena, why did you cancel our visit to the theater—”
Chastity stopped midsentence as she realized that Matteo was in the room as well.
“Your Grace.” She curtsied.
“Lady Chastity.” Matteo bowed. “I hope the afternoon brought you the respite you needed?”
“Er-yes, Your Grace.” Chastity smiled at Matteo.
“I’m glad to see you up, Chastity,” Helena said. “Will you be joining us for tea?”
“I have just had tea, thank you.” She looked at Helena and gestured towards the door. “May I have a word, Helena?”
Helena’s eyebrows rose as she and Matteo exchanged looks.
“Of course, dear.”
She stood up and followed Chastity outside the door of the sitting room.
“Why did you cancel the theater visit tomorrow, Helena?” Chastity looked almost panicked. “And why did you not take me driving with you today?”
“Chastity,” Helena said, taking her hand to calm her. “You said earlier today that you were tired, so I thought that some rest would do you good. I had thought to let you be until tomorrow, so that you can recover and gather your strength for Lady Chapman’s dinner the following day.”
Helena thought it was relief that she saw in Chastity’s eyes. “Was I wrong in deciding such?” Helena asked, concerned.
“No, no, you were not wrong. But today’s rest has given me sufficient respite. I feel that I can go out tomorrow again.” Chastity smiled at her older sister. “Do let us go to the theater tomorrow as planned, Helena. I am well, really.”
Helena had expected another argument; indeed, she braced for it. To now have her sister suddenly pleading and sanguine unsettled her.
“Well…”
“Please, Helena.”
Helena was not immune to Chastity’s pleading.
“It is your decision, if you say that you are feeling better, then we shall go.”
“Oh, thank you, Helena!”
Chastity kissed her sister’s cheek and quickly left.
“Well,” Helena said to herself as she watched her sister—looking, indeed, full of energy—rush away.
When she returned to the sitting room, she went to the wingback armchairs where Matteo sat.
“It is my duty to tell you that, once again, we are for the theater tomorrow.”
Matteo’s eyebrows rose in amusement.
“Excellent.” He smiled at her. “What color shall we wear?”