It almost made him forget that he had been attempting to unravel the mysteries of her mind. Unsuccessfully at that.
“I suppose you must be referring to your Christian religion,” he said. Possibly she spoke from a religious context. Since her religion was most certainly Christianity, he started there. “There can be no question Jesus was dark-skinned given his nationality and country of birth. Whether or not he had olive skin or black skin, we do not know. We do know Jesus lived as a child in Egypt where, presumably, his appearance did not set him apart or make him stand out while he was in hiding from Herod. Is this what you refer to, Miss Stanton?”
She shook her head, an expression of disenchanted surprise crossing her face, as if she had expected more from him. He felt somehow disappointed in himself, though he’d be damned if he knew why.
“No, Lord Ravensdale,” she refuted with ill suppressed condescension. “Though I comprehend your point, certainly Jesus was Middle Eastern, Christ lived many years after the first human beings. I don’t see the relevance to my supposition that Africa is the mother country.”
“Not at all relevant to your conjecture, it appears.” Whatever that might be.
He was supposed to be the tour guide in charge of instruction here. Miss Stanton couldn’t possibly mean all humans living today had a common ancestor whose origins were African.
“Possibly you are pointing out persons of note who were dark-skinned, Lord Ravensdale?” Her tone assumed a forced helpfulness. She smiled encouragingly at him, as if he were a child learning to read, and not doing so well at that.
“Of course, Miss Alita, I miss the point altogether,” he muttered. This was like conversing with a bloody scientist. A mad scientist.
He must likewise be mad to wish to follow her down that path. “Would you care to enlighten me?”
Alita studied him momentarily, as if she were determining if he were worthy of her knowledge. Solemnly she replied, “Not at this time, Your Lordship.” Her expression indicated that, though she was attempting not to hurt his feelings, his performance had not impressed her to the point that he was deserving of the next lesson.
“Not even a hint?” Lord Captain Ravensdale certainly was not accustomed to being dismissed.
“Suffice it to say, do you not find, my lord, that almost everyone who comes to Africa feels a primal force calling to one’s soul?”
“Yes…” The truth of her proposition hit a deep chord. “Not in so many words, but there is an inexplicable power and lure which is acknowledged.”
Val did his best to regain his composure despite being intensely aware of her every movement and expression. “Miss Stanton, why are you continually acting as if you have hit upon a revelation of momentous proportions? It is disturbing.” Particularly when accompanied with swoons and near heart attacks.
“I assure you it disturbs me more than it does you. I am most unaccustomed to these constant insights. Shall we continue?”
“Yes, yes of course.”
Bloody hell. Studying her open expression gazing up at him without the slightest reserve, Val found himself wishing she wouldn’t say words like primal.
Taking Alita’s elbow, he suddenly recalled her proper upbringing and where they were.
They rejoined his charge’s maid. “It is time to continue the tour, Miss Flora. I’ll escort you.” He reached for her arm.
“B–but, m’lord…”
“It is quite safe, Miss Flora, I assure you.” The poor child didn’t look to be older than sixteen, and she was shaking like a leaf.
“Beggin’ yer pardon, m’lord, but no one knows how they got the stone blocks from the quarries to the pyramid. Each of ’em weighs more than a ton! No one knows now, even these four thousand years later! I heard you say so with me own ears!”
“True, but—”
“There’s something not right about this place.”
“We’re perfectly safe, Flora.” Alita nodded in a comforting gesture. “And we’re safest with Captain Lord Ravensdale.”
“I’m sorry, Miss. I have failed in my duty,” Flora exclaimed, tears rolling down her eyes. “I shouldn’t be arguing with the gentleman. It’s just so d–dark in here, and what if the earth caved in—”
Val took both ladies firmly by their arms. Suddenly they found themselves in a spacious corridor twenty-eight feet high, called the “Grand Gallery,” and Flora appeared to relax a little with the increased space.
Val wondered if perhaps Miss Flora was claustrophobic in addition to being superstitious. Possibly it added to her distress that they had not encountered too many other parties beyond the outer rooms. They continued onto the opening to the King’s Chamber at the end of the corridor, the first sight of which was always startling to visitors.
“Oh, my!” Alita exclaimed, her amazement apparent, as she peered through the opening. “What is the stone which lines this room?”
“Solid red granite. It is quite something to behold, is it not, Miss Alita?”
“I could never have pictured it.” As her head moved, her eyes searching the room, her Skimmer hat’s green veil fell forward to cover her face.
He had encountered anthropologists with less interest than Miss Alita Stanton exhibited.
Val had to admit she looked quite the explorer in her green riding outfit with wheat-colored satin trim and buttons. Her dress did not quite reach her ankles, revealing tan kid boots, which were both lovely and serviceable. She was so slim and immaculately dressed, and yet she had not shown the slightest sign of discomfort or fatigue.
Beyond the shadow of a doubt, my plan has backfired. A very bad tactical move. He had desperately wanted to squelch his interest in this woman.
I am far more interested now than I was at the start of the day. Which was saying something.
“The tomb is just on the other side of this opening, Miss Flora,” Val reassured her, attempting to divert his attentions from the divine Miss Stanton.
This information served to alarm the maid more than to placate her. There was fear in her eyes, and Alita patted her hand. “Would you like to wait here, Flora?”
“Oh, yes, ma’rm!” Flora shook her head violently, indicating that she would prefer to wait in the Mediterranean Sea with a weight chained to her ankle rather than enter the tomb.
“We will be nearby,” Alita considered. “It is imperative that you call to us if you see anyone approaching on the corridor. You will lose your position with Grandmamma if I am found unattended.”
“Y-yes, of course, Miss.” Flora nodded that she understood. Clearly she feared the tomb even more than she did the dowager duchess, and that was saying something. “But must you go?”
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
Flora shook her head, as if she thought the choice might come to that.
“Some of the colossal ceiling stones for the King’s Chamber weigh as much as nine tons.” As they entered the chamber where King Khufu was ultimately buried, a hush fell over them. It was cool and dark, and Val was reminded that the ceremonies had occurred over four thousand years ago.
It felt as if they were the only two people alive in the world. He had never experienced that sensation with anyone else, and the last place he expected to experience it was in the final resting place of the pharaoh.
“This chamber, which lies ninety-five meters below the apex of the pyramid, is said to be a remarkable space in which mystical energies converge.”
They continued walking slowly through King Khufu’s tomb. In an effort to break the strange connection he felt with this mystifying woman, Val drew on his knowledge of their surroundings. “Visitors come from points far and near to meditate here.”
“Yes, the energetic forces are incredibly strong here.”
He stopped abruptly and stared at her, alarmed to hear himself chattering.
“So you have an understanding of these forces, Miss Alita?” Val felt some relief to return to his familiar role of sardonic mocking and disbelief.
“It is the creative force which exists in all beings.” She raised her eyebrows as she glanced back at him. “The energy is accessible everywhere, but it is concentrated here. For those who know how to channel it, this is a powerful place. Potentially a place of great healing and life changes.”
“I did not know you believe in witchcraft, Miss Stanton.”
“It is not witchcraft. It is simply the force of life. If you hold your hand over a leaf, or next to a tree, you can feel it.” Alita placed the sheer green veil atop her hat as she turned to face him, her glistening green eyes starkly vivid. “All the conditions are right here. You could run a long-distance race anywhere, but wouldn’t you prefer to be running at seventy-five degrees in an early morning breeze rather than at 100 degrees in the heat of the day? Would not your chances of finishing the race improve?”
“I suppose that is logical. I haven’t ever heard it explained in quite that manner.” He shrugged noncommittally.
“The conditions are right here to be receptive.” Her face possessed a certain tranquility which enhanced her beauty. “And if you bring to that an eager heart and an open mind, this becomes an ideal location.”
“So shall you be staying, Miss Alita?”
“As I have already explained, Captain Ravensdale,” Alita shook her head, a sadness in her eyes which seemed to embrace him, causing his breath to quicken. “I did not come to Egypt to find the pyramids, though I have greatly enjoyed this tour.”
“Why did you come then?”
Her voice grew shaky. “The strength of your personality drew me much more forcefully than the energy of the pyramids. Mine is not a mind pulling straws out of a haystack, not quite knowing what I am looking for. My gift is strong, and my purpose is clear.”
Her lips parted and closed again. “I came to find you. Only you.”
26
In the Presence of the gods
Standing in the burial tomb of the pharaohs, hearing only the echoes of their breathing, Val was surprised he could find no words.
All he could do was to watch her.
I want to take her in my arms and kiss her.
Damnation! He hated himself for falling under her spell again.
“Miss Stanton, you continue to flatter me ridiculously.” Finally he found his voice. “This is not the first time I have been pursued. You must know that. But I must confess I am greatly perplexed. I beg you to enlighten me. Why have you taken such an interest in me? I cannot for the life of me comprehend what it is you want from me.”
Obviously she had not come from England to Egypt to help him, and obviously she had not seen him in a ‘dream’ before she came.
What is her motivation?
Her gaze was cool, as if he had nothing she wanted. That he could readily believe. But her constant flattery said otherwise. He was well versed in the military arts and the rules of combat, but he was coming up short.
“If you are foolish and misguided enough to contemplate marriage with me, which is difficult to fathom, I can assure you it won’t happen.”
“Marriage?” She gasped, touching her cheek with the index finger of her gloved hand. The sudden sadness in her sparkling eyes seemed vividly real.
She was in pursuit, of that there could be no doubt. He began to think he might like to be her prey.
I wish her well in her attempt.
A single tear escaped down her cheek.
How does she manage the tear? Could it be real? Possibly she was disappointed that her plan—whatever the devil it is—was not working.
“My heart is breaking for you, Valerius,” she whispered. “Not because you cannot see me—which you don’t—but because you cannot see yourself.”
“Rest assured, I see you, Miss Alita.” He took a step back. He saw her very clearly.
Too clearly. “I see that you are an extremely eligible young lady, beautiful, an heiress to a great fortune, and with illustrious relations. I, on the other hand, am a respectable match, but certainly not of your caliber. My estate barely makes enough to support my extended family. My father was a notorious flirt and gambler, and we are, consequently, not of the first water. And to add to all that, I have it on good authority that I am a bloody bore.”
“You seem to be attempting to dissuade me from setting my cap after you. You misunderstand me, my lord. It is true that I wish to be married, my lord, but you are not that man.”
“I’m relieved to hear it.” He heard a sadness creep into his voice unexpectedly.
“If you would simply hear what I say rather than assuming everything I say is an ulterior motive, attempting to interpret that which is clearly stated and needs no interpretation, you would know why I am here.”
“Indulge me, I beg you.”
“Initially I saw you as a person who could impact many lives, even to the point of preventing a terrible war.” She shut her eyes momentarily as if in great pain. “I committed to tell you of your purpose, because I hear my directions so clearly and because I know how to obey. As poor a choice as I might be, there was no one else.”
“That I can readily believe.” The number of people who had told him of his magnificent greatness and his resplendent future were surprisingly few.
“Someone had to care.” She shook her head, her wheat-colored curls shaking beneath her hat.
“So you weren’t looking to ensnare me into marriage?” The direct approach was always the best.
She bit her lip. “That was never my intent.”
“It is difficult to believe your purpose with me is not personal.” He took a step forward and placed her small hands in his, knowing well he should not.
She raised her chin. “I assure you I have no designs on you, Captain Ravensdale.”
“It has nothing to do with your feelings toward me?”
“I didn’t know you, my lord. How could I have feelings? But I was drawn to you.”
“And now?”
“And now…” she struggled with the words, “…I fear it is different.”
“I am gratified to learn this, Miss Alita.” In a low voice, he added, “I can assure you I reciprocate your interest.”
“Please don’t!” She pulled away from him and gasped as if struggling for air. “This is not why I’m here! I yearn for you to realize who you are, Valerius.”
“I know very well who I am, Miss Alita. It is you who has me baffled.” He pulled her close, “if I kiss you under the apex, my foolish advocate, will the force of it be stronger?” Suddenly he wanted nothing more in the world than to kiss her, to kiss her without reserve and to make love to her here in Khafre’s pyramid.
“The draw is strong,” she whispered.
“On that we can agree,” he whispered. His lips touched hers with a fierceness, and the softness of her lips aroused him instantly. He captured her mouth forcefully.
He felt a numbness from his toes to his head, being kissed in the tomb of the pharaoh. His heart was pounding, and her breath was like fire in the coolness of the tomb.
“I thought you said we were not on holy ground,” she voiced with some difficulty. “It certainly feels so to me.”
“Perhaps I was mistaken,” he whispered. “Experience is always the final word.” He possessed her mouth, even as she leaned her head back and accepted him.
He cradled the back of her head in his arm, his other arm around her waist, while he took a softer approach and gently coaxed her mouth. Her response was immediate.
A soft moan was released from her lips. He held that sound in his own mouth before returning it.
He gingerly placed her against the wall. He continued to kiss her neck, even as he ran his hands along her waist and her hips. Lace covered her bodice up to her neck, but his breath was hot as his lips touched the lace along her neckline. He longed to undress her and to kiss every inch of her.
“Valerius,” she whispered, and she held his head in her hands, pleading for something she was unable to name. His lips came back to hers, and she put
her arms around him as he gently kissed her, rolling his tongue along the inside edges of her lip.
“Oh, Val,” she whispered. She placed her hands on his hips and pulled herself closer to him.
Val’s eyes opened wide in surprise and desire. This was not a young, inexperienced girl but a woman of the world as he had suspected. Although he had initiated this interlude—or had he?—Val began to feel as if she were the one in control and he were the pawn.
A very willing pawn.
“Oh, God, Alita,” Val said. “You are driving me to madness.” He held one hand on her hips as he placed his other hand at her waist. She threw her head back, and he ran kisses along her neck, her back arching.
Val did not know when he had been more aroused. He was in the temple of the pharaohs with the most intoxicating woman he had ever known. Every word, every movement, every look excited him. He could barely think of anything but her when she was in his presence.
I must be crazy. Or he would be soon.
Why she had this effect on him defied logic. He didn’t believe a fraction of what she said.
What should have felt like a thrilling interlude of unthinkable liberties was frustrating him beyond measure. He hated the barriers. He detested the clothing. He wanted to feel her bare breasts beneath his hands. He wanted his mouth on every inch of her skin. He wanted…
Am I mad? Do I actually plan to make love to the Duke of Yarbury’s granddaughter here in Khafre’s pyramid? Val’s head was spinning as he fell back to earth. Val was stunned at his own lack of self-control. Discipline was the foundation of his life.
“Miss Alita,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. He hated himself at this moment. “We can’t do this here. Someone would inevitably come upon us.”
To risk ruining Miss Alita Stanton is unthinkable. A tryst of this nature would have to be in an exceptionally private location which protected her from discovery—if he were low enough to contemplate such a tryst.
Which he began to think he was.
How could he have lost control in a place brimming with tourists? Maybe there really was something to this apex theory.
The Destiny Code: The Soldier and the Mystic (Daughters of the Empire Book 1) Page 24
