“L–Lord Ravensdale!” Struggling to find her voice, she only managed to stammer. Hurriedly she brushed the crumbs and seeds off her lap. She was simply dressed in her lightweight green wool suit. Thankfully she had tied a peach silk scarf around her throat, which cast some color into her otherwise pale complexion. Her hair she had pinned hurriedly atop her head, and no doubt a curl or two had come loose. “What are you doing here?”
That didn’t come out as she intended. But she was never so surprised to see anyone, and her head was spinning.
“Miss Stanton.” He bowed abruptly. The frown returned to his face, disapproval apparent. “Would you prefer that I left?”
“I suppose that depends on why you are here,” she heard herself say. She supposed it sounded rude, but she had no intention of suffering further at his hands.
But Captain Ravensdale did not have the look of a man who had any intention of departing. As always, he was in control of their encounter, and she was merely present to observe and flounder.
“I’m sure I have nothing to say to anything you do,” she managed, shaking her head while struggling once again to find words.
“Funny. I had precisely the opposite impression.”
“But…why are you here?”
“You didn’t summon me, Miss Stanton?” he asked demurely.
“Certainly not! I wouldn’t have the slightest idea how to do that. I’ve never been so astonished in my life to see anyone.”
Once again, a slight half smile formed at the corner of his lips, and again it soon faded into the austere expression.
“I know I shouldn’t have come, Miss Alita—his hands fell to his side—“but I was in London anyway, and you traveled two thousand miles to see me. It struck me as rude not to travel five miles to pay my respects and to thank you…” He ran his fingers through his hair as if he had no idea what to say next, or even why he was here. She felt the usual sweet attraction he had for her, even stronger than their last meeting, and she began to tremble.
Do not fall for that again, she admonished herself. He has not the slightest difficulty in ignoring his attraction to you, as well you know.
She clenched her hands in a failed effort to keep her world from spinning.
“I am glad to see you looking so well, Lord Ravensdale,” she managed to utter, barely breathing. And she was, though she wished he might look so well elsewhere. Still dazed but slowly returning to earth, she wondered why he was dressed appropriately. He wore a morning suit consisting of a starched white dress shirt, black pants, a maroon silk ascot tie, a pearl tie pin, a black jacket and a dark gray striped vest.
He even wore a boutonnière. Despite the severity of his gaze, for the first time in their acquaintance, she sensed in him a desire to please her and a concern for her opinion, startling and further enhancing her state of confusion.
He breathed heavily, as if he had more to say. He seemed to be caressing every inch of her with his eyes, and she felt dizzy under his scrutiny. She stared at him patiently, awaiting an explanation. And then, without warning, he blurted, “I have a proposition for you, Miss Alita.”
“I beg your pardon?” She swallowed hard.
“I need an artist for my book. My first publication, that is.” He spoke more rapidly than she remembered. “I reviewed the work of the artists recommended by my publishing company, and the paintings simply did not meet my criteria of excellence or of style.” He seemed to stumble on his words, as if he were uncertain of what to say. Captain Ravensdale’s austere and logical manner did not fit with the raging emotions she felt emanating from him.
For the moment, she could think of nothing to do but to follow his conversational lead.
“That is wonderful, Captain Ravensdale.” In truth, the news filled her with delight, so much so that she quickly regressed from formal address. “You have a book about to be published. I am thrilled. It will be such a gift to the world.”
“Will you do me the honor of illustrating my book, Miss Alita?” he asked. “After all, the work never would have been published were it not for you.”
That is a terrible idea. She felt a genuine delight as she contemplated being able to see Valerius again. But it would teach her to hope where there was none.
But to paint for the world to see? A sudden guilt at her own anticipation overtook her. Was it vain and immodest? Her mother would say, No, of course not. How could it be, to cultivate one’s gifts, be one female or male?
“I appreciate your thinking of me, but I do not think I shall be able to assist you with the painting.”
His expression plummeted, and he appeared to be burdened with weighty concerns. His commanding presence was in stark contrast to the deeply troubled state he displayed.
If his intent were reputable, that was one thing, but she was feeling something far different from him—raging desire! And to simply be in his presence with no hope of a respectable marriage?
She had been devastated by the unattainable nature of his love, and she would not traverse down that path again. She didn’t deserve that pain. No one did. She had helped Captain Lord Ravensdale to the best of her ability. That was where it ended. She was not obligated to service his whims.
“I’ll get straight to the point then, since you clearly don’t have time for me in your life presently.” He stared at his hands for a moment before capturing her eyes. “Miss Alita, forgive my intrusion. But might I ask if I am to wish you happy?”
“Whatever would give you such a notion, my lord?” Alita stared at him blankly, her annoyance building. Of what possible interest could it be to him?
He had not changed. He did not want her, and he didn’t want anyone else to have her either. She so wished she might flash an engagement ring before his dictatorial demeanor.
“While socializing in my club over the past week”—Val cleared his throat—“the fervent high praises and obvious partiality which several outstanding young men of my acquaintance held for you was inescapable.” A dark gloom passed over his features, as if it were ripping his heart out to speak the words.
“How can this possibly be any concern of yours, Lord Ravensdale?” She pursed her lips. As if it is any of his business after these eight months. Why on earth did she not tell him so? Or, even better, play him as he had played her?
To what purpose? What would she gain? The knowledge that she had hurt him as he had hurt her?
“I have received an offer.” There. She said it. It did give her pleasure to see the jealousy in his expression. But what difference did any of it make if they were not to be together?
None whatsoever.
“And did you accept that offer, Miss Stanton?”
She looked down at her hands. She felt her lip quivering and bit it in order to control herself. “I have not answered.” That was something of a lie. She knew that the answer would be no.
Especially now. With all these feelings resurfacing in Valerius’ presence, the notion that she should contemplate marrying someone who could not illicit even a fraction of these emotions was suddenly all too ridiculous.
He released his breath, as if he felt a surge of relief, which caused her to return her eyes to his. He stared at the ground momentarily even though he stood frozen before her. He bowed stiffly, turned as if to leave, and then returned to stand before her.
“Dare I to hope, Miss Alita, that I might once again engage your affections?” His expression was anything but hopeful.
Oh, no! Please, not this. Alita studied him with a stark attentiveness. She couldn’t bear to have her heart broken again. She was not yet recovered. She began to wonder if she would ever be.
I have no intention of being a feather in the wind again at Ravensdale’s request, responding to his almost simultaneous invitations and rejections. She had grown up since then, she had a life now, and she could survive on her own.
“Don’t, Valerius, please don’t.” As tears filled her eyes, she shook her head. She had not seen him in her future, and she di
d not need to be tortured anymore in the present.
“My sincerest apologies, Miss Alita.” He turned to face her one last time, his expression sincerely remorseful. “Forgive me. I thank you for all you have done for me. I remain, your servant, if ever you have need of me.” He bowed, turning to leave.
Even without looking at him, she felt the genuine sorrow in his heart, and it overcame her, welling up inside her chest. Despite the grief which filled her own heart, she could not bear the pain he was feeling.
No, no, never again, stop it. Just this once, I must stay inside myself. My compassion will be the death of me. Just as it ruined my presentation to society, keeping me from protecting myself. She summoned everything in her power to ignore his feelings.
He began walking down the path, slowly exiting from view.
A little while longer and he would be gone. Forever.
Don’t say a word, she admonished herself. Just a little while longer. The sound of leather shoes meeting pebbles—a sound which she knew she would remember forever—grew fainter and fainter.
Valerius, her mind screamed. Valerius. Come back. I shall listen.
But where her heart would not be contained, her voice failed her, protecting her when she most needed it.
54
The Paradox
Suddenly Valerius turned abruptly as she watched him. In a matter of seconds he returned to her side. His expression was fiercely resolute. “Miss Alita, though you refuse me, I will not leave until I have stated my case. I am prepared to be kicked to Hades and back, and I am prepared for you to stomp on my heart—if there is anything left of it—but I will not give up without a fight. I may be a bloody idiot, but, if there is anything I know how to do, it is fight.”
“Refuse you what?” she managed to ask. “I am quite sorry, Valerius, but I cannot paint your book cover. And I will not be your mistress.”
“Blazes to hell!” He waved his arms in the air, his expression menacing. “Are we destined to never speak the same language? You might know the future, but from the beginning you have comprehended not a damn thing about me in regards to yourself.”
“Odd you should say so, Captain Ravensdale. I always considered it was you who did not understand me.” Well, at least she had found her voice.
“That is true, Miss Stanton. But now that I comprehend your gifts, I might have thought we could reach an understanding. You are still the most infuriating female of my acquaintance.”
“We are incompatible, it seems.”
“The possibility has occurred to me as well. But the fact remains that you are the love of my life, Alita, and I would be an idiot not to fight for you with my last breath.” His expression remained hard, indicating his sincere resolution.
No, it cannot be. Alita stared at him, not believing his words. I did not foresee this. It simply is not possible.
“Won’t you sit down with me and tell me the whole, Lord Ravensdale?”
“No thank you, Miss Alita.” A new resolve filled his steely blue eyes. He fixed his full attention upon her and she felt somewhat dizzy by the impact. “I am done with this nonsense.”
“I see.” Just as she had known. He would never cease playing with her feelings.
I am a fool to have believed his charade. An instant ago she wished him gone, and now she couldn’t bear to see him go. Just as he had orchestrated.
“So you don’t have time to sit for a few minutes and tell me of your life of the past eight months?” she asked.
“I have all the time in the world for you, Alita, today and always.” Val went to one knee and took her hand where she sat on the bench. “But I prefer to kneel. I have another proposition for you.”
She gasped. It felt so real. Even admonishing herself that it couldn’t be, her eyes watered at the intensity of her emotion, both the conflicting longing of her heart and the fear of being crushed again. Alita attempted to quiet herself, waving her hand in front of her face, but to no avail.
“Have I upset you, Miss Alita?” His resolute expression turned to dismay. “It is deplorable on my part after all you have done for me to want yet something else for myself. I should never have presumed…It is just that I love you so dearly. There can be no one else for me.”
She clutched her free hand to her chest. Am I dreaming? Or am I mad?
This could not be happening, Alita knew with a certainty, so any minute she would surely awaken. Or, if this is real, beyond a doubt she would do something to destroy and undo it, with the end result being the prophecy she had foreseen.
“I know I don’t deserve you, Alita, but I am an old soldier, stubborn to the core.”
Only Valerius Huntington could make her heart skip a beat and her voice fail her. She dared not say anything or interrupt him.
“I was trained to advance against impossible odds. It is deeply ingrained in my nature. I was born a soldier, and I will die a soldier. I will never give up until I have given my last and best effort.”
“Please do so,” she managed to say. She could not fathom what she was hearing, but she must hear him out. The one time in her life when she most strongly desired to behave as a proper lady, a moment she had often dreamed of but never expected to experience, and she was an artless schoolgirl.
His expression was pained. “Miss Alita, might I suggest that you put less pressure on my hand? I fear your fingernails will soon draw blood. If this is your way of refusing me…”
“Yes, yes. Of course. I mean, no, it isn’t.” I mustn’t make him bleed. It exhibits not the slightest decorum.
He appeared utterly confused as he studied her. In an instant, Val’s silver-blue eyes twinkled with amusement, and he burst out laughing. “It has been so long since I have laughed. I only just arrived, and already you are casting your spell on me, my love. God, I have missed you.” The hopelessness and determination returned to his expression.” Alita, please, is it possible, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
“How…is this even possible?” Her lips formed the words, which came out louder than desired. “I didn’t see you in my future.”
“I decided to change that prophecy,” Val replied resolutely. He moved to sit beside her, taking her hand.
He hadn’t left yet, and she resolved to enjoy every sweet moment.
“I was certain”—Alita stared at him in shock—“I am certain we will never be together. How can this be?”
“Does this mean you look with favor upon my suit?” he asked forcefully.
“It is the greatest wish of my heart. But I cannot say ‘yes’, not while I feel it is an impossibility. Is this a jest, Valerius?”
“I never jest,” he muttered with a voice that could have cut steel, even as he fought a smile which begged to form on his lips. He kissed her fingertips. “Do not you realize how visions and predictions work, Miss Alita?”
“Please tell me, Valerius,” she whispered. “I confess I am at quite a loss.”
“Very well, I will tell you. No outcome is predetermined, my love. Any future outcome can always be changed.” Val shrugged and stated matter-of-factly. “We are all in possession of free will.”
“I am aware of that fact, but…”
“You predicted my future given the path I was taking.” Val spoke slowly, as if to further her limited understanding. “Suddenly, I can’t tell you precisely when, my heart rebelled violently, and I knew beyond hope I must do all within my limited power to prevent that end result.”
“Your heart rebelled against the prediction?”
“How could it be otherwise? You gave your heart to me, and my heart became yours.” Val’s eyes caressed her.
“Oh, Valerius,” she sighed, leaning her head against his shoulder, wishing with all her being this might be true. Still, she saw no future for them though she was bathed in happiness.
“So I changed my actions, willing to exhaust all possibilities, willing to suffer or die to create a different outcome,” he added.
He made it sound s
o simple. And yet she had never been so wrong before, and on such an important matter of so much significance to her. How could she enter into something so unknown to her?
“Let me try a different angle, Miss Alita.” He was clearly aware he had not reached her. “When Moses went to pharaoh and told the pharaoh of his dreams and his visions, Moses said, ‘Let my people go.’ If Pharaoh had listened to Moses and complied, a far different outcome would have occurred, saving the pharaoh from the plagues, floods, and the death of his firstborn son. None of Moses’s visions would have come true.”
“And God would not have sent Moses to Pharaoh if there weren’t the possibility of a different outcome,” she murmured. “God does not toy with his children.”
“As you say.”
“Or, rather, possibly it proves once and for all that I cannot trust myself.” She hated to be self-absorbed at this precious moment, but the foundation of her belief system was under attack.
“I trust you more than any other person alive, Alita.” He placed an arm around her and kissed her forehead. “Without your vision, I would have never become myself. I am living proof you can trust yourself.”
Alita felt her head spinning. Everything she thought she had known…
“Most of us do not realize our own power to shape our lives. I didn’t before I met you. I changed. I changed a great deal.”
“Yes, I see that, as have I. I believed myself to have become more astute, now I wonder…”
“I had the gift of seeing into my future, which you provided. I knew it to be an accurate prediction based on the verification of your qualifications. Having had the unusual gift of seeing into my future, I decided to change my path and to thereby bring into existence a reality more to my liking.”
“Do you mean, Valerius, that having a true prediction of the future was the tool which enabled you to change the future? It sounds nonsensical. A paradox.”
The Destiny Code: The Soldier and the Mystic (Daughters of the Empire Book 1) Page 40
