Chapter 28
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Morning was announced by the stream of sunlight that filtered through Helena’s window.
She groaned. Normally, she preferred to wake up to a bright room just like the one she was in now. It was the very reason why she kept the drapes open upon retiring for the night.
But today was a day that should have brought with it dark clouds and thunderstorms, not sunshine and birdsong.
What are you saying?
Helena scolded herself. Eyes now fully opened, she stared at the pattern of her canopy.
The vines that twirled around each other offered no solace to the gnawing in her heart.
Every morning for the past week had been like this, the gnawing would increase until Helena felt that she could endure no more.
The preparations—all the endless tasks had served as her distraction from the pain. A vacant minute was a minute to dwell, and those must be avoided at all costs.
But today there was nothing left to prepare for, nothing left to do but help Chastity dress for her wedding. And even there, Sally would be the primary helper.
Helena had envisioned this scene in her mind very differently. In it was an exuberantly happy Chastity. She would wake up before everyone else, jump on her sisters’ beds to tell them to wake up, for it was her wedding day. She would be full of hope, dreams, and life.
That was the Chastity of just a few months ago. How cruel life could be to change a girl so completely that she was almost unrecognizable. And so we have tried to save what could be saved.
And here we are.
Helena let out a long breath. She closed her eyes and tried with all her might to wield her mind’s influence over her heart and her body. Slowly, little by little. She forced herself to rise from her bed.
She rang for a bath.
A few minutes later, she let in two housemaids and two footmen carrying buckets of hot water.
“I am to assist you in your toilette this morning, m’lady.” The chambermaid named Becky curtsied to her.
“Where is Sally?”
“She is involved in Lady Chastity’s preparation, m’lady.”
“Oh, yes of course.” Helena felt extremely dense for asking.
Looking at the prepared bath, Helena decided quickly.
“I think I shall be able to manage the bath by myself, Becky.” She smiled at the servant. “Thank you, I shall call for you when I am done, and then we can proceed with the rest of my toilette.”
“As you wish, m’lady.” Becky curtsied again and then went out the door.
Once alone, Helena undressed and stepped into the steaming tub of water.
She sat still until her skin adjusted to the warmth of the water.
She lay back against the tub, soaking in the soothing feeling of the water.
Inhaling deeply, she realized that she smelled roses—it was rosewater that she was soaking in.
And roses, of course, reminded her of Matteo.
“Brilliant,” she muttered to herself.
Helena gritted her teeth and tried to regain the relaxed feeling that had been within her grasp just mere moments ago.
When Helena finished with her bath, she rang for Becky. In her dressing robes, she found that the bath had indeed helped; she was feeling calmer than when she woke up at least.
All of them were to have breakfast in their own chambers, which had been decided upon last night. And so, Helena ate in the quiet of her own rooms.
While Helena was having her morning meal, the maid proceeded to prepare her attire. She laid the peach gown that Helena was to wear on her bed and readied her other accessories.
“I am ready, Becky,” Helena said. “Please ring for the breakfast things to be taken away.”
“Aye, m’lady.”
“Thank you.”
Helena rose and went behind the screen to start getting dressed, when an alarmed cry from Becky had her looking from behind the screen.
“What is it , Becky? What has happened?”
“Oh, m’lady!” the maid cried. “I am very sorry!”
Becky, who had been in the act of bringing Helena’s gown to her, had accidentally bumped against the table where the remains of Helena’s breakfast were. The results were splashes of black tea and spots of raspberry jam on the front of Helena’s gown.
The maid was consistent in her apologies; she looked visibly shaken.
“Becky, it is quite all right,” Helena reassured her. “Please do not overburden yourself. It is just a gown.”
“Oh, m’lady, this gown is probably worth five months’ wages, maybe more—”
“Becky.” Helena stopped her ramblings. Then, in a softer voice, she continued. “It can be cleaned, please do not think any more of it.”
“Oh, m’lady, you are too kind. I shall soak it at once, and then I shall be back to attend to you. Thank you, m’lady.”
Becky curtsied three more times before she left. Chuckling, Helena shook her head and went to her armoire. She opened it to scan which gown she could wear in place of the spoiled one.
There were but three gowns hanging inside her armoire. Frowning, Helena wondered where most of her gowns had gone. She debated whether to call for Sally but decided that her small emergency did not warrant the disruption of Chastity’s preparations.
She studied the gowns again, two of them were older morning gowns, more suited for walking in the park than anything else, and the third, perhaps too heavy in its material, but undoubtedly the most suitable of the three, was an evening gown—silvery blue in color.
Helena let out a small sob. It was the gown that Matteo had secretly matched his waistcoat with during the Woodacre Spring Ball.
The memory invoked her feelings upon recognizing his gesture. She had been surprised, touched. She realized that she was already falling in love with him then.
Helena pulled out the gown. She hugged it to her chest.
When a meek Becky returned, Helena smiled kindly at her.
“Come, let us resume.”
She gestured to the silvery blue gown that she had hung over the screen.
“Aye, m’lady.” Becky said, and she proceeded to dress her mistress.
When she was ready, Helena looked once more at her reflection in the mirror. She would just have to hide behind her sisters.
Would it be altogether wrong if she did not attend the wedding at all? She sighed. She must go, of course. If only to lend credence to Matteo’s marriage to Chastity.
Despite the incidents that morning, Helena had finished with her preparations relatively early. She moved to the window as she heard Becky let in the servants in charge of removing the breakfast things. Looking out, she noticed how the roses looked beautiful today. Perhaps she would go there.
“I shall be out in the gardens, Becky,” Helena said. “Thank you for your assistance this morning.”
Sitting on the pergola bench, Helena tried, very unsuccessfully, to empty her mind.
Perhaps she chose the wrong place to do so, or perhaps the task was simply impossible to accomplish.
Her time would be better spent admiring the flowers.
She stood up and ran her fingers over the smooth petals of the pink roses.
In an hour’s time, the wedding would take place. The days leading up to it had seemed so surreal that now, when the actual hour was upon them, she still felt as if it were not reality.
Was she still in denial? Was a tiny part of her hoping against hope that it would not happen?
From the open window of the Blue Room, the longcase clock sounded the hour of ten. In half an hour, they must all be out and ready to board the carriages. She knew it would be up to her to remind her sisters of the time and up to her still to herd them to the front door.
Her parents, she knew, would be riding their own carriage.
She had not spoken to her mother since she had told her exactly what she felt regarding her and her father. Helena had no idea how she had taken it, or if she cared at all.
But she had resolved on one thing, and it was that she would take care of her sisters because she loved them—and not to please her parents any longer.
She would decide for herself; she would no longer be their puppet.
She would fight for her sisters and fight for herself.
It was time that she took control of her own life, however small her means were. This she vowed.
Helena went back inside the house. She went up the stairs and headed for her sisters’ bedrooms. Faith’s bedroom being the closest, she knocked on her door.
“Faith?” Receiving no reply, Helena opened the door only to find her bedchambers empty. She went to Grace’s room next, which was directly opposite Faith’s.
“Grace?”
There was no answer as well. Opening the door, she was once again greeted with the same scene: an empty room.
“Where is everyone?”
Left with only one place to go, Helena walked towards Chastity’s door.
The muffled sounds of conversation stopped her from knocking. She pressed closer, trying to discern what was happening.
“Chastity… you must…”
It was Grace’s voice sounding very much as she did when she was trying to persuade someone.
Puffing out her cheeks, Helena turned the door handle and went into Chastity’s room.
She was right, all three of her sisters were there, and they, all of them, stopped and looked at her as she stood by the doorway.
“Helena, you must speak to Chastity!” Grace moaned.
“What is happening?”
Helena swept her gaze over Chastity and gasped in surprise. Her sister was wearing her sleeping gown; her hair had obviously been pulled down from a chignon. In the corner of her chambers, hanging over the back of a chair, was the discarded gown that was to be her wedding gown.
“We have tried everything,” Faith said to Helena. “Sally came running to my room. Grace was with me when it happened. Sally said she was looking for you, but you were not in your chambers.”
“Chastity?” Helena approached her sister slowly.
“I cannot do it, Helena. I cannot.” Chastity cried.
“You cannot do what, dearest?”
Helena knew the answer, of course, but she was trying to buy time while her mind whirled with differing thoughts.
“It has nothing to do with Matteo; he has been all that is good, all that is chivalrous, but I cannot do it.”
Chastity started to cry. She pressed at her eyes, as if stemming the flow of tears.
“But it has all been arranged. Everything was done to save you, your name and reputation, Chastity,” Helena continued.
Chastity whirled at Helena, and she clutched at her older sister’s arms.
“I would rather be a ruined woman, a spinster, than to be married to someone I cannot love as a husband should be loved! Who cannot love me as a wife should be loved!”
Tears started to form in Helena’s eyes, but she blinked them back.
Chastity lifted her hands up in a plea.
“I cannot live a lie, Helena! What kind of life would that be? I cannot hurt myself in that way. Nor can I hurt you and Matteo in that way either.”
“It is a safe life, Chastity, a secure life!”
“No!”
“But it is to protect you!”
“Helena, how can I? How can you think me capable of that? To marry the man my sister loves! What kind of person would I be to do that?”
“No, Chastity, I do not lo—” Helena reached for Chastity’s hand only to have her sister slap it away.
“No! Do not lie to me!” Chastity shouted.
Chastity covered her face, her sobs getting the better of her.
“Do not tell me that you are not in love with Matteo! Because you are, and he loves you! You! I know he was willing to marry me for you, for your sake. It was all for you, Helena; he did it all for you. I cannot have you sacrifice yourself and Matteo for me, who is so undeserving.”
“Do not say that!” Helena shouted as well. “You are everything that is deserving, you are a good person to whom a very bad thing has happened! You deserve to be loved as well.”
Chastity went to her sister and, this time, took Helena’s hands and gripped them in hers.
“Exactly. And Matteo cannot give me that. Not the kind of love that I want. You must let me go, Helena. Trust that this is not my fate.”
“Chastity.”
“Do not waste this chance, Helena, there is so little love to be found in our world, it is so rare, do not waste it as mine has been wasted! It is rare, it is precious.”
Then, almost in a whisper, Chastity pleaded.
“Please, Helena, take it. And give your love to Matteo freely, as you have always done with us. You still have a chance to be happy. Here is a good man who will do anything for you. He loves you so much that he is willing to give his life away to serve what is important to you.”
Speechless at her sister’s words, Helena stumbled back. She was lost, floating or falling, she was not sure. She had lost all her bearings, everything that she had held on to, now suddenly looked different.
“Helena.”
Upon hearing her name, Helena looked up, confused.
Clarissa Ayles stood just inside Chastity’s chambers, behind her was the earl. Her mother walked into the room, her father still close behind, and headed to Helena.
Clarissa Ayles did something that she had not done in a very long time. She cradled Helena’s face in her hands and kissed her forehead.
“Go, daughter.”
Helena looked from her mother to her father. She watched as they moved Chastity between them. Her father’s arm rested on her sister’s shoulder. Her mother’s hand holding Chastity’s.
Across the room, Faith and Grace wept silently, their arms around each other.
There they stood, her parents. For the first time, with eyes opened to actually see their daughters. For the very first time, aware that they had four daughters who wanted to live their own lives.
As a family, they had a long way to go. But to be willing to start, no matter how late in life they were, was a very good thing.
It is time that I take control of my own life, however small my means may be.
Remembering her promise to herself, Helena felt a lightening in her being. Also, for the first time, she allowed herself to see the possibility of happiness with Matteo. Not just wishful thinking, and not just forbidden thoughts, but a goal—something that she could achieve if only she dared to.
Did she dare to?
It was Matteo’s face, his voice that she saw and heard in her mind.
Do you dare to, Helena?
“Yes,” she whispered.
She took a deep breath, and with a voice that wavered even as it gained confidence, she addressed her family.
“I must go. I must go!”