Helena observed her nervous demeanor and had an inkling of what might have caused it. Cautiously, she decided to prod.
“I am at least glad that Chastity gets her exercise from your walks. And they appear to do her good, for upon returning from your walks, she is always in an exceptionally fine mood.”
Sally gulped and only nodded.
She let Sally get on with her work for a while. When her hair was arranged, Helena looked at her lady’s maid’s handiwork in the mirror.
“Thank you, Sally. My hair looks very nice indeed.”
Sally curtsied.
“Sally,” Helena said as the lady’s maid started arranging the vanity. “We all have Chastity’s best interests at heart.”
Helena waited for Sally to look at her. When she did, she continued.
“You will tell me if anything untoward is happening, will you not?”
Sally bit her lip. She clasped her hands behind her and nodded.
“Thank you.”
When she was alone, Helena gave in to the worry that Sally’s reactions had triggered in her. Was Chastity meeting with a man? It seemed that she was. This was getting out of hand; indeed, it was becoming dangerous for her sister.
Matteo was immensely relieved that they were required to stay silent for most of the musicale. The heaviness that loomed over Matteo and Helena seemed to stretch time. Every second felt like an hour.
I had not been that bad in the carriage when Matteo had fetched them from Huntington House, for Chastity was with them. In front of her, they maintained a normal façade. Neither was it so bad when they arrived at the Spring Musical. So long as there were other people to speak to, Matteo and Helena could manage well.
It was when the program had started, and Chastity had left them to join her friends, that the awkwardness of their situation began to weigh on both of them.
“Shall we sit?” Helena asked Matteo after an uncomfortable silence.
“Of course,” Matteo offered her his arm. “Where would you like to sit?”
“Wherever you prefer, Your Grace.”
“Lady’s choice, my lady.”
“Anywhere is fine, really.”
In the end, they chose the row that was directly where they stood. At another time, Matteo would have laughed, for their seats were very poorly chosen. Beside the main aisle, other guests kept passing them in going to and on leaving their seats. Matteo, being a tall man—therefore having long legs—had to repeatedly stand in order to let people pass by.
Finally, the performances started, and the guests settled down. As a trio played a lively piece before them, Matteo watched Helena from the corner of his eye. Her hair, which was swept up in an elegant chignon, allowed him to see the line of her neck. She had a small smile on her face as she listened to the music soar to a crescendo.
Look at me.
He could count the number of times that Helena had looked directly at him since they left Huntington House.
Why will you not look at me?
Matteo gave himself a mental shake. He must stop. Had he not known that their arrangement would end? Had he not himself conceptualized the whole thing? Why then was he acting as if she had reneged on their agreement when she had merely lived up to it?
I am a fool of a man. A conceited fool of a man!
For indeed, he was just that. He had thought that all his worldly knowledge, all his years of experience, would save him from the most common affliction that claimed man.Love.
What else could it be? What else could this raw, desperate feeling to have Helena by his side be? The past three days of not seeing her, of not being with her had been almost unbearable. And now, knowing that it was only a matter of time before they truly separated was something that Matteo dreaded.
After the remaining events, we shall finish this. And then, Your Grace, we must never meet again.
