“And pray tell, what is the likes of me?”
“You are?—”
“If you please, Helena,” Chasity said in a placating voice. “I shall be very honored to dance with His Grace.”
“Lady Chastity, you are all that is gracious, but I would not want for you to be on your sister’s bad side merely because of a dance with me.” Matteo smiled sincerely at Chastity.
“Oh, but I am sure that is not the case,” Chastity tried to convince him.
“I bid you a good night.” He bowed to Chastity.
Then, giving Helena a smooth smile, he leaned close to her to ensure that no one else would overhear his words.
“If you had smiled more, I might have asked you to dance with me instead, my lady.”
He moved slowly away from her, his mischievous eyes watching her reaction. He bowed to Helena and, without waiting for an answer, Matteo turned and left them.
Helena stood indignant at his words. For a moment, she forgot where she was and that she was surrounded by hundreds of people from London society. She stamped her foot in irritation.
“Insufferable!”
Chapter Three
Helena was barely able to contain her irritation. What kind of gentleman would outright call a lady on her lie? Well, perhaps a forthright one, but that was beside the point. She was obviously making it clear that she had no wish for Chastity to dance with him, and yet he insisted on giving her a hard time for it.
Matteo Castor lacked manners, he lacked gallantry, and most of all, he lacked shame! Then again, what did she expect from a rake?
“Hmph!”
“Perhaps a glass of punch might restore your good humor, Helena?” Chastity asked tentatively.
“I already finished a glass, thank you, Chastity.”
Taking a deep breath, Helena focused her attentions on her sister.
“Chastity, I feel that I have caused you some distress; for that I apologize.”
“I am alright, Helena,” Chastity smiled reassuringly at her older sister. “But I do feel that you were unforgivably rude to His Grace. He did nothing but ask me to dance. I do not understand what happened. Did we not become friends during our visit to Icedale Castle last winter?”
How could she explain to Chastity that Matteo Castor, the Duke of Valen, was a rake? An excellent example of the very man that she had been warning her sisters about.
“I only thought that he would not be suitable for you, and that you should save your dances for more eligible gentlemen. That is all.”
Chastity frowned.
“But who could be more eligible than a duke?”
“Not this duke!” Helena muttered.
“I beg your pardon?” Chastity asked, thinking that she misheard her sister’s words.
“It is nothing.” Helena shook her head.
“And besides, I do not think that he had courtship with me remotely on his mind.” Chastity continued. “At Icedale Castle, he was very much like an older brother to Mary, Claire, and me. All three of us quite liked him.”
Helena could recall very well how he had entertained the young ladies during that time, if she was being fair—and, indeed, she would say that he played the host better than Peter had. But that was neither here nor there. This was the London Season, and Chastity was, in the eyes of society, now eligible for marriage.
That meant that Chastity’s reputation must be exemplary and perfectly maintained in that state. And the first step toward perfection was making sure that Chastity was never associated with rakes.
