Chapter 25
Chapter Twenty-Five
Helena had never known the feeling of comfort that came from being supported by someone, of knowing that they were there for you. Never—until Matteo.
The solid feel of him, of his arms around her as if to protect her and at the same time comfort her were branded in Helena’s memory. He made her feel that she was not alone. That she also deserved to be cared for. That she was also precious.
Helena felt Matteo’s arms slowly let her go. His touch, the feel of his hands, warm and urgent, was the healing contact that she had needed—perhaps had always needed.
When he released her, Matteo took a step back from her as well. This confused her. Why was Matteo moving away? She studied his face and saw a sadness in his eyes that she had never seen in him before.
She opened her mouth to speak, but Matteo spoke first.
“I shall offer for Chastity.”
Helena looked blankly at him, as if the words he spoke were that of another language entirely.
“Marrying Chastity will save her from the shame of the scandal. Her being married shall end the gossip.”
“What?” Helena could barely form the single word.
“Someone must fix this,” Matteo continued calmly. “And I can.”
The words finally settled in Helena’s mind. A sudden, sharp pain took her breath away. Stunned, Helena stumbled back, her arms on her abdomen, as if struck there.
“Do- do you have feelings for Chastity?”
Matteo looked her in the eye, his gaze intense.
“You know that I do not, and that I will never have, Helena.”
“Then why?” Helena asked, her voice strangely hoarse. “Why…”
“I am not deserving of you, Helena. I am gravely lacking in many aspects. But in this, I have something to offer. This, I can do.” Matteo spoke with a fierce look in his eyes now, as if he needed her to understand every word he uttered.
“Chastity must come first, this I vowed to you. If that entails marriage to her so that she may be saved from disgrace, so that she is secured in her future, then I shall see it done.”
A sudden understanding swept over Helena, and it brought her sadness as it did tenderness for him.
He is doing this for me. He is protecting Chastity, my sisters, and my family. The ones I hold dear. He is doing this for me.
“It is a choice that I make freely,” Matteo said, softer now.
Without knowing it, Helena moved back and away from him. Her hands moved to her heart.
He is letting me go.
“Matteo.”
“I shall leave you now.” Matteo bowed. “I shall be back to speak to your father when he is himself returned.”
They looked at each other silently for a long moment. The small distance between them seemed like an entire ocean.
Without another word, Matteo turned and left. She watched him until he disappeared into the house, then, in her mind, saw him walk out the front door of Huntington House and away from her.
Her hand pressed hard against her chest. She never knew one could feel physical pain from heartbreak. She walked quietly on the bench and sat down, wondering how she could lose something—someone—that was not really hers in the first place.
“Matteo,” she whispered.
I must let you go. As you have let me go.
How funny that they never really belonged to each other to begin with. She wiped at the silent tears that flowed down her cheeks.
When Helena returned to the house, her face was blank.
The only sign of emotion was her eyes, red from tears.
She went straight to Chastity’s chambers and knocked.
When no answer came, she tried the handle and was surprised to find that it was unlocked.
She opened the door, and there, sitting by the window, was Chastity.
“Chastity, I have some things that I must tell you.” Helena hesitated, but forged on. “It is, I fear, not pleasant news.”
“If it is about Lord Clifton, you must not bother,” Chastity said without looking at her sister. “I know that he shall not be coming for me.”
“How- how do you know?” Helena asked, taken by surprise.
Chastity lifted her hand to show Helena a crumpled piece of parchment.
“News travels fast in the ton.” A single tear rolled down Chastity’s cheeks, but she quickly swiped it away. “Here, you can read it if you want to.”
Hesitantly, Helena reached for the letter.
It was from one of Chastity’s friends telling her that news of Lord Clifton’s swift departure was spreading through London.
Helena sighed, not knowing if she must feel thankful that knowledge of his being married and that he had sold his estate were not yet publicly known.
Either way, she knew that it was her duty to still tell Chastity.
This she could do more easily than the other news that she carried heavily in her heart.
She looked at the letter again and could only imagine how Chastity felt upon reading it.
After everything that happened, she was still her little sister.
She longed to take her in her arms and comfort her, as she did when she broke her new doll, as she did when a thunderstorm woke her in the middle of the night, frightened.
Instead, Helena moved to her and reached for her hand and grasped it in hers. When Chastity did not pull her hand back, Helena sighed with relief.
“Dearest, I’m afraid I have more news that you will not wish to hear. But—”
“Please tell me,” Chastity said, her gaze out the window. “And do it quickly.”
Helena fortified herself.
“Lord Clifton has left England for good. He has sold his country estate—the real reason for his returning to the country—and he is to return to the West Indies, where he is to rejoin his wife.”
Chastity closed her eyes and leaned her forehead on the window. She stayed completely still; the rising and falling of her chest was her only movement.
When she looked up at Helena, her eyes were dry but filled with misery.
“How am I to endure this pain, Helena? What must I do to leave it all behind? It is too much. I am a fool, you see, for I love him still—yet do I also despise him. What must I do?”
Chastity rose from the chair and knelt before Helena, arms clutching at her sister’s waist.
“Tell me what to do, Helena. Tell me, and I shall follow every word. I shall do everything you tell me to do. Please.”
Chastity said the words so quietly that Helena felt all the more her suffering. While her parents worried over a ruined reputation, here was Chastity, heartbroken, disillusioned, and in pain.
“Dearest.”
Helena pulled Chastity up and sat her again on the chair.
She lifted her chin until she met her gaze.
And as hastily as she could, before she could stop the words from flowing, told her of the decision made in the gardens just moments ago.
The decision that would save her sister, while it broke her heart.
“You shall be married to Matteo.”
Chastity looked at Helena as if she were not making sense.
“We were never really engaged, you see. It was all to help you, really. Matt—His Grace came up with the idea that you being married to him would be the best. He shall speak to Papa when he returns.”
Chastity still remained silent, though she watched Helena’s face. Unnerved, Helena looked down for a moment.
“It-it is for the best, dearest,” she said in a small voice.
Chastity did not reply, she went to her bed, lay quietly on top of it, and closed her eyes.
She watched her sister and never felt so helpless in all her life as she did now. For herself and for Chastity. For most of her adult life, she had always planned for everything, controlled all the aspects that were in her power to control, but now, now she found herself powerless.
Helena felt the tears build behind her eyes. She followed Helena to the bed and lay beside her. She put her arm around her sister. She could no longer stop her emotions from escaping; she wept silently, hiding her face on the pillow.
Eyes still closed, Chastity reached for Helena’s hand and held it in hers.
Matteo ordered his carriage to head back to Valen House without him.
The light was beginning to fade as he walked the streets of Mayfair.
Since he left Huntington House, Matteo had walked in whatever direction his feet carried him, he was not quite sure where he had gotten himself to, but in truth, he did not care.
He had aimed to walk until the image of Helena’s face would vanish from his mind.
But he should have known what a futile plan that was.
Matteo knew that he could walk for days, months, years, even, yet he would never be rid of Helena’s image in her mind.
Her cornflower blue eyes that darkened with her emotions would never give him a moment of peace, this he knew.
Looking around, he realized that he had reached Kensington Gardens.
He had walked half the perimeter of Hyde Park without knowing it.
Matteo stopped and watched the parade of carriages and the line of people walking past. How ordinary it all seemed.
In a few more minutes, the street lamps would be lit, as they were lit every day, no doubt by the same person who did so every day. Life in Mayfair went on.
Matteo laughed bitterly. To think that he was part of this cycle, that he had wasted so much time pursuing all the superficial things, that he had wasted so much time proving to himself that he was no longer the little boy asking, waiting for love.
Matteo, the Duke of Valen, a man of the world, wealthy, handsome, and charming, was not immune to love.
He started walking again, this time his legs carried him to a familiar part of Mayfair. The sky grew dark when he found himself knocking on the front door of Icedale House and fervently hoping that Peter was home.
“You did what?”
Peter, who had been in the act of handing a glass of brandy to Matteo, froze at the words that issued from his friend.
They were in Peter’s study, sitting by the fire. As soon as Peter had seen Matteo’s countenance, he knew that his friend was troubled.
Matteo reached out and took the glass from Peter. He drank from it and answered his friend in an even tone.
“You heard me.”
“Matteo, have you gone insane? What about Helena?”
“Our betrothal was never real, Peter, you know that. You and Dahlia both. From the start, you knew that. I appreciate you for not giving me a hard time about it.”
“What about now?” Peter said with a hard stare at his friend.
Matteo turned from him.
“As soon as the Earl arrives home, I shall explain to him that Helena and I have decided to break our engagement, and then I shall make a formal offer for Lady Chastity’s hand.
I daresay he will not refuse the offer, especially not under the circumstances.
The man only seems to care that his daughters marry respectably. ”
Matteo could not help the bitterness in his voice. He sighed. He put the glass of brandy down on the table and rose from where he sat. He went closer to the fireplace and braced his hands on the mantle, wanting the warmth of the fire to defeat the cold he felt within.
There was no other sound in Peter’s study save the crackling of the burning firewood. Peter walked over to his friend and laid a hand on his shoulder.
“Matteo, are you sure of this decision?”
When Matteo turned to look at Peter, he knew his friend already knew the answer.
“Then what about your feelings for Helena?” Peter belabored.
Matteo scrubbed his face with his hands, frustration rife in his countenance.
“I am not worthy of her!” He almost shouted. “She deserves better than a man like me. A rake! An empty man! How can I love her the way she deserves to be loved when I myself am deeply lacking?”
“I do not think that is how she sees you, Duke.”
“I know what people see, Duke. I have been that man for too long.” Matteo said quietly. “I am not deserving of her. But I can be of service to her, I can do her some good.”
Matteo suddenly chuckled, earning a confused stare from his friend.
“Had I not told you back then that I could do Helena some good?”
“But—”
“I have made up my mind. Peter.” Matteo stared at the fire. “I am only keeping my word to Helena after all, honoring my vow to help her protect Lady Chastity, to secure a good future for her sister. To protect her and her sisters.”
This time it was Peter who sighed.
“I see.”
Then he shook his head.
“But still, this is not right. Why do I feel as if I am watching that scene in A Midsummer Night’s—”
The laughter that erupted from Matteo took Peter aback. Indeed, the look on Peter’s face told Matteo that his friend thought him insane. Perhaps he had gone insane.
He sat down again, took the glass of brandy from the table, and downed its contents in one gulp. He felt the liquid burn a line down his throat.
“For once in my life, I can be of real use to someone,” Matteo said. Then, in a quiet voice, he added, “Let it be for her, let it be for Helena.”
He stood up suddenly and went to Peter, putting his hand on his friend’s shoulder. He smiled at the closest friend that he had in the world. Perhaps the only person in his life to have really cared for him.
“Thank you, Peter,” Matteo said solemnly. “You have been the only one…”
Peter nodded just as solemnly at the unfinished words, understanding Matteo completely.
“You deserve more than you think, Matteo.”
“Hmm.”
He patted his friend on the back, then Matteo walked to the door. He had nearly reached it when it suddenly opened to reveal Dahlia.
“Matteo, what a surprise! You—”
One look at Matteo and Dahlia knew that something was very wrong. She looked from him to Peter, then back again. Her eyes were searching for an answer. When her husband remained silent, Dahlia turned to their friend hesitantly.
“Matteo?”
Matteo went to Dahlia, laid his hand on her stomach, and then kissed her cheek. He gently chucked her chin and smiled a sad smile. Then, without another word, he strode out the door.