Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
“My lady, Her Grace, the Duchess of Valen, and Her Grace, the Duchess of Wylds, are waiting for you in the sitting room.”
Dahlia closed her eyes. She knew this visit was inevitable.
Since reading Matteo’s note that he had been to see Dahlia and Peter, Helena had been in a constant state of anxiety about her friends’ wanting to know more about their engagement.
In truth, what she was most anxious about was that she would need to tell them fabrications.
She put down the meal plan that the cook had submitted to her for approval and rose from behind her desk.
“Thank you. You may tell them to come up, Mr. Keble.”
“Very good, my lady.”
A few minutes passed before Helena heard the sound of footsteps outside her door.
Bedchambers were not unusual places for the three friends to conduct their calls. Indeed, she was very familiar with both Celine’s and Dahlia’s rooms as they were with hers.
“There you are!” Dahlia said.
“Rest, pregnant lady.” Helena said, leading them to her bed. “Did you wait long? I told Mr. Keble to send you up at once.”
All three of them took off their slippers and, in stockinged feet, found comfortable positions on Helena’s bed.
“Not at all, and Chastity and Grace were both there. We had a short gossip session.” Celine said with a grin.
“Grace?” Helena asked, confused. “But she should be in her painting class.”
“Oh, she finished early,” Dahlia answered. “Truly, her work has much improved.”
“Yes, the last watercolor she did was of the pergola. It was quite beautifully done.” Helena said proudly.
“Chastity is looking very well, too,” Celine said. “How are her suitors?”
“Still present, there are two who are consistent, one who has recently returned from an absence, and one whom I am not sure is a suitor at all.”
“Well,” Dahlia said, smiling in anticipation. “Tell us all about them!”
Helena told them in detail about the gentlemen suitors and Chastity’s opinion of each of them. When she talked about Lord Clifton, she received different reactions from each of her friends.
“If there is no one who can vouch for him, then that is most suspect,” Celine said with a frown.
“I am sure he is merely still reestablishing himself here, after all, he has been away for so long,” Dahlia said.
“I do not know why you are defending him, Dahlia,” Celine replied with a sniff.
“I am not defending Lord Clifton,” Dahlia argued. “I am merely giving him the benefit of the doubt. There is no proof that he is of the bad sort.”
“Nor is there proof that he is of the good sort.”
“Well, we shall just have to see.” Helena interrupted. “In the meantime, Matteo and I will just have to be extremely watchful of Chastity when he is with her.”
When Celine and Dahlia looked at each other, Helena knew that she had just accidentally given them an opening to a subject that she had much preferred to avoid.
“Helena,” Dahlia started, her hands clasped tightly together—a sure sign that Dahlia was about to say something that she deemed important. “We have tried not to ask you—indeed, we did our best to wait until you are ready to tell us.”
“But we feel that as your best friends, we need to tell you that we are worried about you,” Celine said simply, placing her hand on top of Helena’s.
Helena gulped.
“But why should you be?” Helena said, forcing a smile. “I am perfectly fine. The season could not be any better than it is, for Chastity especially.”
“And for you?” Dahlia asked quietly.
“I am engaged to be married to a duke! It cannot get any better than that.” Helena’s voice sounded shrill even to her own ears. “I have never received so many invitations, never been so sought after as I am now. It is the perfect scenario for Chastity.”
Celine and Dahlia looked at each other again, communicating silently it seemed.
“I have been so busy as of late that I have not been able to call on either of you more often,” Helena added.
“You have not called at all since you sent us each a note telling us of your engagement to Matteo,” Dahlia said simply.
“Helena, your mere absence—your avoidance of us already said so much.” Celine took Helena’s hand in hers.
“I was not avoiding you!” Helena exclaimed.
Celine leveled her with a look.
“You told us of your engagement through a note. A note.” Celine emphasized.
Then in a softer tone, she continued. “I know that at one point in our lives, all three of us vowed never to get married—well, perhaps, Dahlia was merely dragged into that vow—but fate had her own plans. That taught us that we can never know what to expect. So, when we received your note, we just knew that there was more to it.”
“And you not telling us in person suggested that you were not yet ready for questions. So, we respected that, Dear Helena.” Dahlia said, empathy in her eyes.
“Really, there is nothing…”
Celine and Dahlia did not answer, they looked at her with understanding expressions.
They know me too well.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
“I-I have something to tell you.” Helena stammered. Then, not knowing how to start, she covered her face with her hands and let out a long breath.
Dahlia went closer to her and took her in her arms. A moment later, Helena felt Celine embrace her from behind.
“I think you have forgotten what misadventures Dahlia and I both had to go through as well.” Celine said. “You will hear no judgement from us, Helena.”
When they had, all three of them composed themselves, Helena gathered her courage and spoke.
“As you know, Matteo and I met during our short stay with you in Icedale Castle, Dahlia.”
When her friend nodded, Helena continued.
“I admit that I found him aggravating then, oh, don’t get me wrong, he was very charming and entertaining, but I found him too sure of himself.
Anyway,” she waved a hand and proceeded.
“We had a plan back then to push you, Dahlia, and Peter, to realize your feelings for each other—for it was very obvious to us. I guess you could say that we built a certain, tentative kind of friendship. A temporary alliance, if you will.”
Celine and Dahlia nodded.
“When we saw each other at Lady Chapman’s ball, we had a small misunderstanding—”
“Oh, I remember! When he called you out on your lie!” Dahlia exclaimed.
“Dahlia, will you please let Helena speak?”
“Apologies, please continue.” Dahlia said with a grimace.
“After that we seemed to be always running into each other. He and Chastity formed a friendship that winter at Icedale Castle as well, so Chastity was always glad to see him. Matteo knew that she was in her first season.”
Helena took another breath; this was the part that she most dreaded telling her friends about.
“One evening I received a note from him; he wanted to discuss something with me.”
“You met with him?” Celine grimaced. “Sorry.”
“He suggested the idea to me. We would pretend to be engaged—”
“Whatever for?” Celine interrupted again.
“Celine, please let Helena speak.” Dahlia told Celine in the same tone she used. “Please do go on, Helena.”
Had they been talking about a less serious topic, Helena knew that she would have been laughing at her friends. But as it were, she braved on.
“We would pretend to be engaged. This arrangement would be mutually beneficial for us. How you ask, well as a betrothed couple, Matteo would be able to attend functions with us, where he would help steer Chastity away from the less savory type of gentlemen—rakes, in particular. And he would help me assess her suitors as well, we could use his knowledge of other gentlemen to guide Chastity.”
When her friends remained silent, Helena continued.
“And in return, his being an engaged gentleman would keep the scheming mamas and the wishful young ladies away from him. He claimed that he was tired of the marriage mart and just wanted to go about society in peace.”
“And you agreed to his proposal,” Celine said.
“I agreed to it, yes,” Helena answered, nodding her head.
“It seemed a good plan, a reasonable plan at the time. Practical even, for I needed do no research on the backgrounds of the gentlemen who were starting to show an interest in Chastity anymore, Matteo could tell me at once about them. Chastity had to come first; it was all for her. Then, once she is herself, engaged, we would announce that we had decided to break off the engagement. There would be repercussions for sure, but Matteo and I both felt that we could handle them.”
“It does make sense,” Dahlia agreed. “Matteo is generally liked among the peers of the realm; Peter told me that. So, it would not be very surprising that he knew so many of them.”
“Yes,” Helena said.
“But?” Celine drew nearer to Helena.
Sighing, Helena shook her head.
“All this deception is wearisome. Pretending to be betrothed, living the part of an engaged woman was, at first, easy enough. We just had to appear together in society. Matteo did exactly as he said he would. We went to balls together, dinner parties, picnics, musicales, and drives. And I admit that it was all very pleasant—he is, after all, handsome and charming.”
Helena felt her cheeks heat at her admission.
“And there is a kindness in him that I had not observed before. Perhaps I was too preoccupied in judging him a rake that I did not see it before. But he was kind. He kept his word. Even Faith and Grace like him.”
If she noticed her friends exchanged meaningful looks, Helena made no comment on it. But nearing the end of her story, she rushed to tell the rest. She wanted it all off her chest—save the one thought, the one feeling that she was not able to express. Not even to herself.
“As the days went by, as the invitations grew and grew, so did the inquiries and expectations. Everyone was asking questions—how did we meet, where did we expect to live, when the wedding would take place. You know me, I cannot abide such subterfuge; it is difficult for me to be dishonest though, it is all for Chastity.”
Helena’s hand went to cover her face again.
“But when I start to think of the consequences if someone were to find out that it is, indeed, a sham of an engagement, I feel so anxious. It is increasingly difficult to pretend now. What have I gotten myself into?”
They were all silent for a while, Celine and Dahlia looking at Helena and Helena looking down at her hands. The silence was disturbed by Helena’s long sigh of relief. She fell back on her bed and let herself become limp.
“It is a good feeling to finally get that off my chest. It was getting extremely heavy.”
With eyes closed, she spoke in a meek voice.
“Are you very angry with me? I have behaved shamefully, I know.”
A single tear ran down her cheek and landed on the bed.
“I know—oof!”
Celine fell on her, hugging her, while Dahlia lay down beside her, hugging her arm. What started as a giggle ended with them tearfully wiping their eyes. Sitting up, they leaned against each other. Helena put her hand on Dahlia’s stomach.
“We understand that we, each of us, have our own way of living our lives; you are doing what you think is right by your sister,” Dahlia said.
“And what would have become of them if you had not been the responsible sister that you are? Surely your parents cannot fault you for doing what you had to in assuring Chastity’s best chances in marriage,” Celine added.
“Thank you,” Helena said weakly. “Sometimes, I question if I am fit to be my sisters’ guardian.
“I hardly know anything about the world. I can run a household; I had to teach myself that. I can navigate social scenarios, but what do I really know of life? Not much. Perhaps that is why I agreed to Matteo’s plan.
He seems to know quite a good deal about life, certainly more than I. ”
“Matteo,” Celine hesitated. “He, ah, he has not been improper in any way, has he?”
“No, indeed not, he has been the perfect gentleman,” Helena answered. She spoke the truth, for aside from his constantly holding her hand, there was only their waltz together that had any physical contact. So she did not know why her cheeks heated at Celine’s question.
“We have always known him as a rake,” Dahlia said. “Indeed, when we used to observe him and Peter during the rare balls that they would attend, he did seem the part. But as Peter’s friend, I have gotten to know him better. And I think that he is just like the rest of us.”
“And what is that?” Helena asked.
“A person looking for a place to belong.”
“Hmm,” Helena replied softly.
“Promise us one thing, Helena,” Celine implored.
“Yes?”
“Be very careful that you do not mistake love for duty.”
“I, I do not know what you are…”
“Just promise us.”
Helena nodded.
“And be honest with yourself, dear Helena. Please.” Dahlia added.
Again, Helena nodded.
That night, as Helena prepared for bed, she played her friends’ words back in her mind.
Be very careful that you do not mistake love for duty.
Be honest with yourself.
Spoken so softly, so earnestly, their words resonated in her heart as well. Perhaps they both knew what they were talking about, for each of them had had to fight their own battles as well.
Helena watched the moon from her window. The night felt more silent than usual, as if it too had heavy thoughts to ponder. Deciding to leave the drapes open, she slipped into bed and rested on her side. She watched the night sky as she tried to settle herself from the day’s emotions.
Speaking her troubles to Celine and Dahlia had been a great relief. It helped her focus on the things that she must do.
But there was a truth in her that she had chosen to keep hidden, even from her friends.
It remained simmering, unsettled. Perhaps it was what her friends had alluded to when they had said those words.
But she had not been ready to tell them, and so, there it remained, in the hidden parts of her heart.
Matteo.
She had not meant to care for him; indeed, she felt the exact opposite at the beginning of their acquaintance. But now, it was as if she did not know herself. Her opinions had changed; her certainty had been challenged.
She had thought him too sure of himself, shallow and careless, but having spent time with him, Matteo made her see the depth of his character.
He asked questions, and he listened to people—really listened.
What she thought was carelessness was a ruse to keep others away, perhaps to filter the people in his life.
He was too sure of himself; there was no doubt in that, but that was overshadowed by his kindness.
Is it real? Is what I am feeling real?
Or had she been so swept up by their performance that she had managed to fool herself into believing that it was genuine as well?
Helena fell asleep wondering if she could trust her own feelings to be real. Or had the line between pretense and truth begun to fade?