“Please ask him to wait in the kitchens, ask Cook to give him some tea. I shall write a quick reply.”
“As you wish, my lady.”
“Thank you, Mr. Keble.”
Using the same piece of parchment, Helena was poised to write an explanation when her hand stilled. Perhaps it was that she found herself with nothing to do for the first time in so long that a twinkle formed in her eyes.
She wrote her reply beneath his message.
Matteo laughed aloud as he read the note—his note—that Helena had returned with her own annotations.
Is a lady not entitled to her secrets?
-H
Still grinning, he wrote his reply, again, on the same piece of parchment.
“Mr. Bordley,” he called to his butler, who waited by the door of his bedchambers and handed him the note. “Please have this sent back to Huntington House. But tell the footman to await further instruction from me before he leaves. Thank you.”
If Mr. Bordley found Matteo’s instructions curious, his facial expression did not show it, instead the butler bowed and quietly left the room.
Alone in his chambers, Matteo chuckled and rang for his valet.
Helena stifled her giggle with her hand.
“What impertinence!” she exclaimed, her giggles getting the better of her.
She read Matteo’s most recent writing again and could see him clearly in her mind, uttering the impertinent words. He would raise one eyebrow, his green eyes alight with mischief, a confident smile on his lips.
Yes, a lady is. As a gentleman is entitled to try to uncover them.
-M
The small piece of parchment was beginning to be crowded with their exchange, but she was not about to let him have the final word.
Moving to the writing table, she was in the act of smoothing down the parchment paper, when the door to the sitting room opened, and Mr. Keble entered, directly behind him was a grinning Matteo, undoubtedly bringing mischief.
“Matteo!”
His grin did not diminish at her surprised look; indeed, it seemed to have widened.
“You look surprised to see me, Helena.”
“Having arrived at the heels of your note? No, not at all, Your Grace!”
“Sarcasm becomes you, my lady.”
He pointed to her cheeks, which were now tinted pink.
She chose to ignore his comment and addressed the butler.
“Tea, please, Mr. Keble.”
The butler bowed and left the room. They sat on the wingback armchairs beside the fireplace, not noticing that they unconsciously preferred that area of the sitting room when they were by themselves.
“Now,” Matteo said, his elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped together. “Pray, tell me what is this nonsense about not being able to accompany me today and tomorrow? You were the one who wanted to go to the theater, if I recall.”
“It is not nonsense!” Looking at the open door, Helena lowered her voice. “I feel that Chastity is having a case of Seasonal fatigue.”
