Chapter 21 #2
It was all too much for one person to carry alone.
His hands longed to reach for her, to take her in his arms and offer her himself as a helpmate. He longed to say more, so much more. The words were already upon his lips, but her look of dejection told him that now was not the time.
Instead, he gently cupped her face with his hands and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. Helena looked at him as if searching for answers in his eyes.
Matteo’s heart knew the truth. What began as a pretense now proved to be the most honest thing in his life. His whole life had taught him to guard his heart, never give more than he could receive, yet now here he was, wanting to give Helena all that was in him to give.
“Helena.”
Faith called to her from the settee.
“Yes, dear?” Helena stopped her pacing and turned to her sister.
“Your pacing is very distracting.”
“Oh. My apologies, Faith.”
Sighing, Helena sat down next to her sister.
They had occupied the sitting room since finishing breakfast on the next day of her meeting with Matteo. Since then, Helena had been pacing the length of the room.
“You know,” Faith continued. “Chastity is not angry at you.”
Helena, who had been wracked with worry and guilt, looked abruptly at her sister.
“I am afraid that I pushed her too hard, that I have been insensitive to her feelings.” Helena held her palms up in helplessness. “And I hardly know how to make it right.”
Faith took both her older sister’s hands in hers.
“Listen to me Helena. Chastity is not angry; she is ashamed that she was almost caught in a scandal. She needs time and perhaps your belief that she is capable of deciding for herself,” Faith said.
Helena nodded, unable to reply. There were times when she forgot that Faith was no longer a child herself, that she was barely a year younger than Chastity. She rarely spoke about feelings, but when she did, one would be wise to listen.
So wise for one so young.
“Helena,” Faith said again, “I have known you all my life, I know when you are distressed by your sisters, by our parents, or by other things.”
Helena looked away from Faith’s knowing eyes.
“Tell me what else is bothering you. For there is something else.”
Helena hesitated, concerned about Faith’s reaction once she told her about her arrangement with Matteo. It was hard to explain all the dishonesty, all the pretense. She closed her eyes. Then, before she could decide otherwise, she spoke.
“My engagement with Matteo is not real.”
When Faith only nodded, Helena repeated her words.
“Oh, I heard you the first time,” Faith said calmly. “I did wonder about it; it was so unlike you to agree to an engagement that hastily.”
“It was only ever meant to help Chastity’s chances of finding a good match, of making sure that she is kept safe from those without scruples.
Matteo’s position and standing in society would prove effective in those areas.
And he has done as he has promised, saving Chastity from a scandal.
He has been all that is considerate, all that is kind and dependable. ”
Helena felt a quiet relief in telling Faith the truth. She leaned against the back of the settee and breathed deeply.
“But you know, Helena,” Faith said, looking intently at her. “It seems to me that you are no longer pretending.”
Helena suddenly sat up.
“What do you mean?”
“I think you know what I mean,” Faith said simply.
Her sister said it so simply, so directly that Helena could only remain silent.
Helena dressed in the dark; the light of the moon through her windows was her only illumination. She knew what she had to do. She had never meant for things to get this far. She had never meant to fall in love with Matteo Castor. She must end their engagement—their arrangement.
Faith was right, she had stopped pretending, when that happened, she could not tell. She only knew that somewhere in all the time they spent together, she had learned to care deeply for him. She had learned to love him.
And falling in love with a rake could only give her the pain of a broken heart. This, she had always known, had always reminded herself. Helena thought that she had been careful.
I knew better, and yet I let it happen. I have no one to blame but myself.
She would have laughed at herself if the pain were not also very real.
Putting on her cloak, Helena opened the door to her chambers and walked out into the dark.
Matteo, having received another note from Helena, waited in his study. He had not heard from her since the previous day when they met at Hyde Park.
When he received her note, he had dismissed all the servants for the night, and so he watched the street from the study window, waiting for her to arrive.
When she did, Matteo rushed to open the front door.
“I apologize for the lateness of my call,” Helena said in a reserved tone.
Matteo swiftly looked at her, seeing the formality of her demeanor.
“Let me take your cloak,” he said quietly.
“No, thank you. I’d like to keep it on.”
Again, that reserved tone. Matteo frowned but said nothing.
“Let us go into the study.”
He took Helena’s hand. When he felt her stiffen, Matteo almost stopped in his tracks.
“Helena, what is the matter?”
“Please, let us go into your study.”
Nodding, Matteo led her to the room and once inside, closed the door behind them.
“What is wrong?” Matteo asked again, this time he could not help the note of urgency in his voice, for indeed, he felt that whatever brought Helena to his house that night was very urgent.
Without looking directly at him, Helena spoke clearly and decisively.
“We must start ending the engagement, Your Grace.”
Matteo watched her, his eyes roamed her face. When he moved closer to her, Helena spoke again.
“We need only to attend two more events, then slowly step back. Our absences will be noted, and so it shall be more convincing when news of our engagement ending is made known.”
The hood of her cloak slipped off her head and showed him her unbound hair. The waves shone like gold.
Matteo knew this was the eventual end to the arrangement, though he did not expect it to be so soon.
Or perhaps wished that it would not end at all.
What foolishness was he thinking? He was merely surprised; that was all.
“If that is your wish,” Matteo replied, imitating her formal manner.
Helena nodded. Then, realizing that her hood had slipped off, pulled it back on and smoothed her skirts.
“I must return home. Thank you, Matteo,” she said, this time earnestly, in the voice that he knew.
“Helena.” Matteo walked towards her and stopped only when they stood a breath apart. “Is this really what you want?”
“It is, it must be.” This time, her eyes roamed his face. “This was never real.”
Her words seemed to echo in the silent room. Without knowing it, his hand moved to brush her cheek.
“It feels real now. This feels real,” Matteo murmured.
It seemed as if the entire room had vanished, as if they stood in a place where time did not matter. How long they stood looking at each other, Matteo could not say. But there was one thing that he was sure of: he wanted Helena to stay.
With a trembling breath, Helena stepped back. She closed her eyes and turned to go.
No.
Matteo grasped her hand, stopping her. She froze, the tension in her body evident even in the darkened room.
He turned her around abruptly to face him, hands on her arms he gathered her close.
Stopping for a moment, he waited for her to push him away.
When she did not, Matteo brushed his thumb lightly against Helena’s lips.
They met each other in a breathless kiss.
Weeks of restraint and wanting all poured out in that one moment.
They gripped each other as if never wanting to let go.
When the kiss ended, Helena stepped back and looked at him. Matteo, with a sinking feeling, knew what it was that she was about to say.
“After the remaining events, we shall finish this.” Helena took another step back. “And then, Your Grace, we must never meet again.”
Helena hastily turned from him and almost ran towards the door.
Matteo watched her go, his heart pounding heavily in his chest.
He had called himself a number of names before, but now he knew that he most deserved to be called a coward.
He ran a hand over his hair, feelings that he had never known existed coursed through him. She was wrong; whatever it was between Helena and him would not end. All the pretense would, but this, this, could not.