Chastity stood from the bed, her hands clenched.
“Becauseyouhave made all the decisions for me! You! And you are not even my father; you are not even my mother.”
Chastity ran out of Helena’s room. Silence remained but her sister’s words rang loud in Helena’s mind. She felt a pain in her chest that seemed to clutch at her heart. How unjust were Chastity’s words, how cruel as well.
You are not even my mother.
Knowing how much she had given up, how much she had done for her sisters, made Chastity’s words sting so much more. While it was true that her parents’ conditions for her independence entailed her undertaking her sisters’ futures, she had done it all even before any agreement with them was ever established. She had taken care of her sisters because there was no one doing it. Because she loved them.
Tears stung her eyes. She felt all the injustice of Chastity’s words. Helena had always managed to push away feelings of self-pity, but tonight she could not. She felt as if she was in a cage; she was suffocating. She needed to feel free.
I must get away from this state.
For the first time in her life, Helena acted on impulse. She was tired of being responsible; she was tired of duty. Tired of convincing herself that her life was what she actually wanted. She unlocked her desk drawer and took the book of poetry. Then, bringing out her writing things, she wrote quickly.
Matteo sat behind his desk in the study. He planned to spend the entire day alone in his house, save for the servants. This rare occurrence would certainly puzzle his butler and housekeeper, he knew, but he could not risk being absent when—if—Helana sent him her reply. He chuckled to himself.
Perhaps I need a drink.
He alreadyfeltdrunk, for the giddy feeling he had since writing the letter to Helena had never left him. He was also excited, exhilarated—and very expectant.
“Your move, Lady Helena.”
He raised his cup of tea, toasting his absent guest.
Have I been too bold? Yes, I probably have.
But he remembered the look in Helena’s eyes that night as they faced each other behind the hedge in the garden. It was that look that had moved him to action.
He drank the last of the tea in his cup, hoping for its soothing properties to calm him down. He was too excited; he could not wait for Helena’s reaction. Whatever that reaction might be.
I am far too strung. A walk in the gardens will help with all this energy.
Matteo walked to the door.
The knock sounded just as he reached for the door handle. Surprised, he moved aside as the door opened.
“A letter for you, Your Grace,” Mr. Bordley, his butler, said.
Matteo’s heart beat like a drum in his chest. He took the letter and quickly broke the seal. He smiled when he saw Helena’s initials.
“Thank you, Mr. Bordley.”
The butler bowed and left without another word.
Matteo hastily read Helena’s reply.
She asked him to meet her at Hyde Park. So you have decided to meet me head-on.
Matteo was impressed. He grinned broadly.
Helena requested to meet him at ten in the morning.
A mere half an hour from now. Are you hoping, Helena, for me to miss the meeting due to its early hour? I shall have to disappoint you.
As Matteo entered Hyde Park, he noted the lack of other people in the area; indeed, no sane Londoner would be out and about this early in the day. He was to meet her near the Grosvenor Gate, where he had run into her and her sister just recently.
Matteo spotted her even from a distance. He kept his pace even until she was finally aware of his arrival.
