Helena broke off as she made up her mind.
“Baxter, you can return to the house; I shall go on foot.”
“By yourself, m’lady?” Baxter’s frown was telling. “Will you not take Roberts here?”
The coachman gestured with his head at the footman who was at the rumble seat of the carriage.
But Helena was hardly listening, for she had already reached out to open the carriage door and was halfway down when she answered her coachman.
“Have Roberts follow, if he can keep up, for I am in a frightful hurry!”
And Helena, without another word, ran as fast as she could to the direction of Valen House.
She picked up her skirts and cared not at the people who stared at her. Running was definitely not considered maidenly, at least not in London.
“Almost there!” she told herself.
Just another turn and Helena would reach her destination.
At the turn, Helena had to stop and catch her breath. Some distance away, she could hear Roberts calling after her. She waved at him to let him know that she was fine and did not need help. When she had caught her breath, Helena resumed her pace.
In the distance she could see Valen House.
“Matteo,” she whispered even as she went faster.
Matteo stood by the window of his study.
As soon as he had finished dressing, Matteo had locked himself in his study, giving his butler strict instructions that he must not be disturbed until it was time for him to leave.
He was not precisely sure what he had planned to do there, he only knew that he wanted to be alone. In a house where he was the only resident, that sounded preposterous, but it was because Matteo, at that moment, could not tolerate even the presence of his own servants.
He read his correspondence, even tried to answer some of the letters, he rearranged the decanters of brandy he kept well-stocked in his study, and finally, when he could think of nothing else to do, he stood by the window and watched the happenings outside Valen House.
Matteo was counting the passing carriages when he heard the familiar tapping sound on the window facing the gardens.
It was the robin again. The red-breasted bird flitted about from pane to pane as it did the last time Matteo had seen it. He tapped the glass with his finger thinking to get its attention.
“It’s you again, little robin. Are you looking for more worms for your babies? I still have none I am sorry to say.”
When it flew out of sight of the window, Matteo was inexplicably disappointed. Was he losing his mind? Before he could answer his own question, the same tapping sound was heard from the window that faced the street.
“You are trying a different tactic, I see, smart bird, but the answer is the same, little lady, still no worms here.”
He tapped at the pane again, still thinking and hoping to get the red-breasted bird’s attention, when, out of the corner of his eye, he caught a flash of silvery blue that was running down the street and seemed to be heading straight in the direction of Valen House.
Mateo moved closer to the window in disbelief.
Am I losing my mind?
He pressed his forehead to the window, looking for an angle to better see. The figure came closer and closer, and Matteo’s heart skipped a beat. He knew that gown, he knew those golden tresses, come undone by her rushed movements.
A warmth was starting to spread through him. He tried to quell it, to keep his feelings at bay, for he did not know what he would do should he be disappointed.
But his heart had other ideas.
Could it be? Was it Helena? Of course it was! His heart knew that it was Helena! A short distance behind her, a footman came running, apparently trying to catch up with her, but no match for those flying feet “My lady Helena,” he called out.
She was now only a few yards from the front door to Valen House.
