“Ah,” Lord Taylor said.
She had said that her parents left them alone. But to exclude her from a social event being held at her own home was unkind. Matteo imagined a nineteen-year-old Helena watching the different summer activities from her bedroom window. He felt it cruel that she, the grown daughter of the house, could not join in the festivities, while complete strangers roamed around her home and enjoyed all its comforts and offerings.
This time, it was he who pulled her closer.
Some flight of fancy made him imagine them both as younger children. In his imagination, they were neighbors. Both seeking absent parents, they would keep each other company. Matteo’s mouth quirked up in a grin unlike his usual polished smile at the image of himself leading four girls to adventures around Valen Castle and in the nearby wood. Or riding on the landauand reaching for the branches of the willow trees lining Beecham Park. If only.
“Your Grace?”
Margueritte was speaking to him; he blinked and focused on the conversation.
“I beg your pardon, my lady. What were you asking?”
Margueritte’s smile faltered a little. Clearly, she was unaccustomed to not being paid attention to.
“I was merely asking, Your Grace, how came you to decide on your choice of wife?” Margueritte smiled sweetly in Helena’s direction. “With so many ladies who would say yes to you, you chose our dear Helena here.”
“You flatter me, surely. So many are there?” Matteo laughed at Margueritte, then he turned to Helana and winked at her. “But only one Helena.”
“A gem indeed,” Margueritte said, her smile widening to show all her front teeth. “We have been friends since we made our debut together, you know.”
“I have heard that you were the most popular debutant of your season.” Lord Taylor said.
Feigning embarrassment, Margueritte lowered her lashes.
“You embarrass me, Lord Taylor.” Margueritte smiled at the older gentleman, then at Matteo. “Of course, there were many beautiful debutantes with me as well, but I have no idea why I was the one most gentlemen sought out.”
Matteo recalled Helena’s description of Margueritte.
“She thinks that she is better than every other lady in every way.” Helena had said with a huff.
It seemed that the years had not changed her much.
“But although Helena is perhaps a late bloomer, there is no denying now that she has grown attractive. So far from the girl I first met during our first season,” Margueritte added magnanimously.
“Perhaps, but seeing a likeness of her which was done during her coming out, I see not much has altered.” Matteo took Helena’s hand and kissed it. “The same beautiful blue eyes, the same lovely face.”
And he meant it as well, having come across a miniature of her in the mantlepiece of the Huntington House sitting room, he had asked her when it was made. The likeness was very accurate, he remembered thinking.
Margueritte’s cheeks reddened faintly. But she spoke again.
“Oh, indeed.” She smiled again. “Afterall, a handsome gentleman deserves a beautiful lady.” Then turning to Helena, she added, “Helena dear, you must be on your guard, for there will surely be those females who would do anything to catch His Grace’s eye.”
She said the last words with a coquettish look at Matteo.
“I see Lady Teresa Hill waving at us,” Matteo said, suppressing a laugh. “You must excuse us.”
Helena heaved a sigh of relief when they left.
“How did you bear your first season with someone like her always being around?” Matteo said in a weary voice.
“Fortunately, that was also the year that I met Celine and Dahlia. There were a few other debutantes that I became friends with, although not as close as the three of us have become.” Helena said, this a time with a genuine smile. “Lady Teresa is without her husband; that is new.”
Matteo pointed to an older gentleman who was also making his way to Lady Teresa.
“Ah, I never mind. It is almost impossible to have them apart.”
“Are they very much in love then?”
