Matteo Castor with his handsome face and irresistible charm, wished for her to formsomethingwith him. More feelings seemed to explode within her, but the two strongest were polar opposites of each other. Excitement and derision at the offer. Though she could only guess at what kind of offer it was.
Excitement, for she could not pretend to find him unattractive. It wasn’t just his face—for he was probably the handsomest man of her acquaintance—but it was his bearing as well, his confidence and ease that gave him his obvious appeal. No, she could not deny that she found him attractive.
She could not, of course, answer his letter. It went against everything that she had been taught, against everything thatshehad taught her sisters.
No, she decided to ignore the offending—she had finally decided that it was, indeed, offending—letter.
What is that man thinking? Has he lost his mind? Dahlia must never know; she will be so furious with him! And what of Peter? What is it called when a person kills their own friend? Amicicide? Stop!
She felt herself going insane.
This only proved that he was indeed a rake. A deviate. A libertine!
She would cast the letter into the fire. She went to the fireplace, but her traitorous hands did not seem to be responding. Instead of burning the letter, she folded it and tucked it into her book of poetry.
What possessed her to keep it, she did not know. And truthfully, she did not wish to find out. She would lock it in her desk drawer, yes, that was it.
She walked to her chambers directly. She tucked the book discreetly under her arm and walked as fast as she could without attracting attention. When she reached her room, she let out the breath that she had not known she was holding. Why she felt so guilty, Helena did not know, as well for she had not done anything wrong.
“Is keeping this letter considered a sin of omission?” she asked herself worriedly.
Cursing Matteo for making her question her morals, she vowed never to speak to the man again.
She opened her desk drawer and slid the book of poetry under her journal. She pushed the drawer closed and was more than relieved when the click of the lock sounded.
If she did not see it, then she was bound to forget about it.
Chapter Seven
With the letter locked in her desk drawer, she dusted her hands together and used every ounce of her willpower to continue with her day. She turned her attention back, once again, to the management of her sisters’ calendar.
The evening meal passed the same way it did with all four sisters dining together, and as was usual, their parents dined out. Helena did not linger with her sisters in the sitting room after dinner that evening. She explained to them that she still had much to do before she could call it a day.
“I shall bid you all a good night.” She said as she kissed each sister on the cheek.
An hour passed when Helena heard the knock on her door.
“Helena?” Chastity’s face appeared behind the door. “May I come in? I am afraid that I am disturbing you.”
“Of course you may come in, Chastity.”
She pushed aside the lesson plan that Grace’s French tutor had submitted to her earlier that day and faced her sister.
“Is anything the matter?”
“Well, not really, no.” Chastity saw the number of letters and documents on Helena’s desk. “Really, Helena, you do too much. Do you not tire of such eternal bustle?”
Helena smiled at her.
“It is my responsibility as the eldest sister.”
“I cannot imagine myself doing what you are doing, being in control of everything.”
Helena frowned. She was notin controlof everything.
“I wanted to ask you about your meeting with Mama and Papa earlier today.” Chastity continued.
“Ah, yes.”
