Is it real? Is what I am feeling real?
Or had she been so swept up by their performance that she had managed to fool herself into believing that it was genuine as well?
Helena fell asleep wondering if she could trust her own feelings to be real. Or had the line between pretense and truth begun to fade?
Chapter Twenty
“Should we get some refreshments?” Matteo asked Helena.
Nodding, Helena glanced back at Chastity, who was with a group of friends, including Lord Fleetwood. Helena seemed unsure whether to leave Chastity with her friends or ask her to go with them. Apparently deciding on the former, Helena took the arm Matteo offered, and on they went.
It was nearing midnight. Matteo, Helena, and Chastity attended the charity ball for The Foundling Hospital. It was an event that their mother had obligated Helana and Chastity to attend due to her close friendship with Lady Eastwood, the organizer of the event.
“The refreshment table is near enough for us to see Chastity,” Matteo said, knowing he read her mind correctly.
Helena chuckled.
“Am I that predictable then?”
“Only when it comes to guarding your sisters.”
“I shall take that as a compliment, Your Grace.”
“It was meant as one, my lady.”
Helena grinned broadly at him.
“This is quite a turnout,” Helena observed. “Lady Eastwood will be very pleased, I daresay.”
“Will we see your parents, do you think?” Matteo asked.
“Perhaps.” Helena hid a frown, it would be the first in so many a year that they would be together in a ball. “Papa has always supported the Foundling Hospital. He has no choice, I think, since Lady Eastwood is one of Mama’s closest friends.
Matteo chuckled. After they had finished their drinks, they headed back to be near Chastity again. As they walked, Matteo took her hand again, rested it on his arm, and covered it with his own. It felt so natural to him now, to have Helena close, to casually touch her.
“My dear Helena.”
Lady Margueritte Norris approached them, escorted by an older gentleman.
“Hello, Margueritte,” Helan replied with a polite smile.
Matteo barely prevented his eyebrows from raising to his forehead. So this wastheMargueritte. Helana had told him of the encounter with the said lady, and that led to her relating their previous encounters as young debutants. None of them was dear nor poignant. In fact, she recounted a young lady who thought herself the empress of all debutantes. Matteo could still remember Helena’s dramatic expressions as she impersonated Margueritte.
Turning toward her, Matteo felt Helena steel herself.
“What a pleasure to see you here,” Margueritte said, eyeing Matteo flirtatiously.
“My parents are patrons of the Foundling Hospital.”
“Indeed?” Margueritte said absently as she smiled at Matteo. “I believe we have not yet been introduced.”
Matteo swallowed a laugh. As Helena performed the introductions, he felt her subtly pulling him away from Margueritte.
The gentleman she was with, Lord Taylor, they were told, was not very often in London, but was himself a patron of the hospital.
“I am acquainted with your father, the Earl, my lady,” Lord Taylor said. “I was invited to one of the countess’ summer parties at Beecham Park, I believe it was seven years ago. Perhaps we have met each other then?”
“I believe not, my lord. I do not usually attend the summer parties.”
