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The Destiny Code: The Soldier and the Mystic (Daughters of the Empire Book 1)

Page 44

by Suzette Hollingsworth


  Oddly enough, the Dalai Lama’s appearance in the humble log cabin occurred when Nicolette was not screaming or demanding attention, a little known moment. She was a challenging child requiring a great deal of shaping. And yet Val could not help wondering if Lady Nicolette possessed some of her mother’s gifts, understanding the importance of her visitor.

  The Dalai Lama bowed in return, approaching the child. He stared at the beautiful baby for a long while, the household in perfect silence. After some moments he spoke in perfect English. “She is very spoiled.”

  “You are most astute, Your Holiness, particularly since she is on her best behavior of many weeks today.” Val nodded his chin in reverence to the pronouncement. “However, though I would not suppose to argue with superior knowledge, in my wife’s and my defense, I find it necessary to point out that much of Lady Nicolette’s behavior stems from her own character and not from our encouragement.”

  Lady Ravensdale smiled, quietly standing by and attentively watching the Dalai Lama with obvious interest. She had met him several times, but never before received him in her home.

  Since Val was the British representative to Tibet, a country of much interest to Great Britain due to its proximity to both India and Russia, he had audience often with Thubten, who was both the religious leader and the governmental leader of Tibet.

  The Dalai Lama, however, did not smile, carefully considering Lord Ravensdale’s words. He gazed at the child again, who looked back at him with large sea-green eyes, her black hair thick around her head.

  “Coo! Ahmm! Blllllb!” Lady Nicolette began to coo at the holiest of leaders.

  “She does not make these sounds because she likes me.” The Dalai Lama’s expression was moved, returning his solemn gaze to Val.

  “Oh? What other reason could there be?” Val inquired politely.

  “Merely to add me to her entourage of admirers.”

  Val nodded his agreement, his eyes shutting midway through his nod and opening again. One does not argue with enlightenment.

  “I shall explain that her methods will not work on me.” Thubten turned back toward the child. “It is in her best interest.”

  “You might as well be speaking to the moon, Your Holiness.” Val shook his head in a hopeless gesture. “She will hear nothing but compliments. Everything else is ignored.”

  As the Dalai Lama watched Nicolette, kicking her feet now and cooing, a smile tugged on the right corner of his mouth.

  “She has a kind heart and a great passion for life. And a very high opinion of herself.” He nodded his head in sadness. “She will not follow the Buddhist way. Do you agree, Lady Ravensdale?”

  “Most assuredly.” Alita suppressed a giggle. “There is only the Nicolette way for her.”

  “Do not distress yourself, Your Holiness,” Val interceded. “My wife and I wish to someday have another child. We hope to be luckier with the second.”

  “In the meantime, we must do all we can to maintain discipline and to channel her energies into constructive outlets,” Alita added somberly.

  “It is on such matters I am here, Lord Ravensdale.” The Dalai Lama nodded. “May we speak?”

  “I am at your service,” stated Val, placing a cushion on the floor for the Dalai Lama. Of all the world leaders he could be communicating with, to have the good fortune to listen to one of supreme honesty, ethics, and a genuine servant’s heart for his people was the greatest honor Val could imagine.

  “I intend to restore discipline to the monastic life.” Thubten addressed Val.

  “Ah,” remarked Val. “And how will this be accomplished, Your Holiness?”

  “I will increase the number of lay officials in order to avoid excessive power being placed in the hands of the monks.”

  “Of what assistance can I be?” Val fully approved of the plan but did not know why it was being discussed with him.

  “What do you see as the first steps toward modernization, Lord Ravensdale?” Thubten asked pointedly.

  “Introduce a power supply, a sanitation system, roads, and the telephone to Tibet,” Val replied without hesitation.

  The Dalai Lama nodded and sat quietly for a few moments. “Can you help Tibet with this?”

  “Indeed I can, Your Holiness. I would never propose to introduce anything which you did not ask for, but if you ask for it, it can be done.” He paused. “It will require English workers to be here, of course.”

  “You will educate the workers on our customs and on appropriate behaviors?” asked the Dalai Lama.

  “I can maintain order, I assure you.” Val called upon his military training at that moment, and his resolve grew hard and cold. He would not be disobeyed when it came to the respect due to another’s country’s people.

  “Let us begin then,” stated the Dalai Lama. He stood up, bowed to Lady Ravensdale and to Lady Nicolette, and left.

  “He is a wonderful man,” Alita said simply, watching her sleeping baby.

  “Yes,” stated Val faintly. “I believe he will go down in history as a great reformer.”

  “Darling,” he whispered, putting his arms around his wife and pulling her to him. “Have I ever thanked you for this life I have?”

  “Once or twice.” Alita’s inviting eyes shown like green emeralds against ivory silk. “Have I ever thanked you, Val?”

  “No need to,” Val countered, his voice low. “The credit is entirely your own, Lady Ravensdale.”

  “Oh, Val, don’t be silly. It is because of your talent we are here. People rarely speak to me.” She placed her hands delicately on his muscular shoulders as she searched his eyes.

  Val’s kissed her temple, “Do you remember when you told me your greatest gift is helping others perceive their gifts?”

  “That is true.” Alita felt her lips trembling as she looked steadily into the silver reflections of his intense gaze.

  “Others become their best selves in your presence,” Val stated tenderly. His lips formed a half smile. His silver-blue eyes fixated on hers, and she felt, situated on this mountain, they were the only people in the world.

  “Oh, Val,” Alita implored, her eyes tearing. “You don’t have to play the diplomat with me. I am so happy. I don’t need your flattery. And anyway, you exaggerate. Whatever gifts I have are from God. I did nothing to earn them. They simply are.”

  Val swung her around, his strong arms supporting her. His silver eyes turned dark, and his expression fierce. “I never…ever…play at anything, Lady Ravensdale.” His expression grew sultry as he reiterated, “I advise you to take everything I say and do very seriously.”

  Alita met his gaze, her countenance serene. “With the greatest pleasure,” she replied alluringly.

  He returned her to a standing position and added, his voice dark and contemplative, “If someone said to you, ‘You can have your greatest dream come true, and you will have it, how energized would you become?”

  “True. When people have absolute confidence in their dreams, they are working around the clock.”

  “It is rare to have that kind of confidence.” Tenderly he added, “That’s what you gave to me, Alita, my love.”

  Val turned to observe their baby was sleeping. Slowly his head lowered, and his lips touched hers ever so lightly. His breath was hot in her mouth, and he pulled her very close to his body, now hard with desire for her. His hands stroked her buttocks through a soft velvet, pulling them closer to his body. As he held her hips, he lowered his mouth to kiss her breasts through the lace on her bodice.

  “I detest French lace, Lady Ravensdale,” he whispered in a low, masculine voice. “Always in the way. Please wear no more of it.” His mouth formed slow, hot kisses along her neck, tantalizing despite the barrier. She understood his frustration, as she would very much like to feel the hard muscles in his arms absent the stiff linen beneath her palms. He took those arms and pulled her hips closer to his.

  “And why can’t you wear lower-cut dresses?” He lifted his head to gaze appr
eciatively at her breasts. “The style would become you very well.”

  59

  Alone

  “Captain Ravensdale,” she murmured, her voice coming in short gasps, “if you desired me to wear lower cut dresses, I wonder why you shall have procured an assignment high in the mountains.”

  A slow smile came to his lips. Without warning, he moved her against the wall and braced her there with one thigh, freeing his hands to unhook her stays. Skillfully, he released her breasts from her bodice. Her beautiful breasts before him, he methodically set about teasing her nipples with his tongue. He took both hands and massaged a breast in each. He seemed ravenous for her, and that knowledge thrilled her all the more. He placed one hand in the small of her back while he quickly lifted her dress and stroked her, still bracing her against his thigh.

  “Are you still feeling ‘quite cold,’ as you put it, my lady wife?” he asked, his gaze intense with desire. “Shall it be necessary to move to a warmer climate? Say the word, my love, and I shall make the necessary arrangements.”

  “Please do,” Alita whispered, desperately wanting him. She moved to stroke him in such a manner as to procure his immediate attention.

  In one swift motion, Lord Ravensdale picked his wife up and carried her to their bed, removing her undergarments almost as quickly, her bare breasts visible over her skirt. He then quickly removed his own pantaloons and undergarments.

  She watched him, admiring the tall, muscular form before her, fully aroused as he stared down at her.

  Not allowing her as much of a view as she might have liked, he quickly joined her on the bed. He suckled her breasts while stroking her between her thighs, until Alita was gasping for air.

  “Val, Val,” she whispered, her mouth reaching for his. He gave her short, sweet kisses, teasing her, not letting her partake fully of his mouth. Instead, he lifted her skirt and teased her with his now-erect manhood, prodding and caressing her. Val massaged her lower body, moving slowly as she gasped, while he held her hips firmly.

  Finally she could stand no more. He would be sorry he had teased her so mercilessly. Now it was her turn. She grabbed the back of his head with both of her hands and pulled his face to hers, forcing him to kiss her fully. Val obliged her, delving his tongue deep into her mouth. Whereas he had kissed her lightly before, she now felt that he would swallow her whole. Definitely more to her liking.

  In one swift movement she rolled him on his back and held his erection near her entrance, rubbing it against her while her breasts caressed his chest. She took her hand and stroked him, enticing him in every way possible.

  “Damn,” Val groaned with obvious surprise. “It’s always the prim and proper ones. I must caution you, wife. You are torturing me.”

  “Would you prefer that I cease these activities and inform you instead about your illustrious future?” Alita asked sweetly, barely maintaining her control, as she moved her body to massage him. “I have foreseen…certain…events.”

  He quickly rolled her to her back and entered her. He said hoarsely, “Not unless it has something to do with our future children. On second thought, no, under no circumstances, no.” His rhythm was immediately desperately fast-paced, mad with desire for her.

  As she was for him. She ran her fingers through his hair, shaking her head back and forth, craving the release at the same time she hoped it might never come.

  But it did, even as she arched her back in pleasure.

  Softly Alita moaned as she was transported to a place where nothing but love existed.

  60

  Children are the Future

  “Do you recall, my love, our conversation before you distracted me?” Val asked.

  “Begging your pardon, my lord, but I did not distract you. I asked you to improve the climate, and you obliged me.”

  His lips formed a half smile, but his voice was stern. “Lady Ravensdale, I grow weary of your minimizing your contributions to the situations in which I find myself. I shall brook no more false modesty nor pretense of innocence.” His smile grew seductive. “Particularly of innocence, which I find to be the greatest deception.”

  “A woman must have some secrets, even from her husband. Particularly from her husband.”

  “As you well know, my lady, I abhor hypocrisy and deception of every kind.” He ran his fingers gently along her neckline and followed this movement with light kisses.

  Alita sighed contentedly, she felt his concerns. “And what would you have me do, my lord? What is it that weighs heavy on your heart?”

  “Merely a thought,” Val answered distractedly, but his expression indicated that it was not minor at all but of paramount importance to him. “What would the world be if we were motivated by concern for others instead of by fear and greed?”

  She studied her husband intently. Could this man ever stop thinking in terms of the world and of mankind? “I think you know the answer to that question.” She shook her head. “But the world is not ready for that yet.”

  Alita grew pensive as she recalled their trek to Tibet through the mountain passes. An isolated herdsman wandering with his flocks of sheep and goats encountered the last thing he expected to see 12,000 feet above sea level: an Englishwoman on foot carrying a parasol, accompanied by a tall Englishman, a Sherpa, and a donkey carrying their belongings. The dainty, pale woman wore a peculiar but serviceable outfit consisting of woolen puttees, fur-lined gloves, a riding habit of thick English tweed, a leather coat, a gauze veil, and, he was clearly astonished to see, goggles.

  Beneath the gauze and goggles, unbeknownst to the herdsman, were her swollen and sunburned cheeks and lips—and an unmatched joy in her heart with an unswerving belief in her husband.

  She who had been dressed by the grand modistes of London had counted herself fortunate to don an outfit which would have brought tears of laughter to any European.

  Or sherpas, as the case may be.

  Alita had never imagined she could be happy in a cabin high—very high—in the mountains. And yet, she loved and embraced her life. She adored her husband and her daughter. She cherished the mountains of Tibet, so immense one could not imagine them until one saw them, breathtakingly majestic in their magnitude. A peace washed over her every time she beheld their majesty.

  Nothing is false. There was a tranquility, a purity of intent, and a spirituality she had never felt anywhere else. Strangely enough, she felt more at home here than she had ever felt. And she had certainly felt at home both in London and in Egypt.

  Alita was pleased to exist in her world, in her small realm, and yet Val Huntington never ceased thinking in terms of the entire world. A small smile tugged at Alita’s lips even as she cupped her husband’s face with her hands.

  At the moment it was enough for her to experience perfect bliss. But her husband needed more, she knew that. She opened her mind to the universe, searching for something which might give him the hope which he craved.

  “Val, do you remember—in Egypt—when I told you of a great leader, a woman, who will bring peace to the world in the twenty-first century?”

  Val lifted himself on his elbow, and his expression was one of great interest and attentiveness. “Yes, I do recollect….”

  “I know you didn’t take me seriously at the time. But you take me seriously now, don’t you?”

  A slow, sultry smile came to his lips. “Very seriously.”

  “She will be a descendent of ours.”

  “A direct line from you and me?” Excitement crossed his face.

  “When I first saw her, I naturally had no idea she had any relationship to us, not realizing we would be together. Lately, I have thought of this leader more and more.”

  Val spoke quietly. “She will carry some of our values with her, passed down from parent to child.”

  “You will do much in this lifetime to lay the groundwork for peace,” Alita added serenely. “This future child and her ideals is only one of your many contributions.”

  She sighed as sh
e realized her husband’s brain was again contemplating some perplexing problem. The knowledge of their setting the groundwork for world peace was not enough to satiate him.

  “And what of Nicolette? Shall she do anything besides scream at the top of her lungs and demand our absolute and total allegiance and adoration in every waking moment?” Val nodded in resolution. “Yes, I am sure of it. Lady Nicolette will be the dictator of some unsuspecting country which she will rule by alternating between tyranny and irresistible charm. Her country will adore and worship her at the same time she abuses its people.”

  “Oh, Val.” Alita giggled.

  “She is laying the groundwork for this profession now.” Val’s expression was one of his growing conviction in his offspring’s diabolical plot. “Is this what you see in Nicolette’s future, my love?”

  “Captain Ravensdale,” she said. “Why must you always be thinking of something other than the present?”

  “It is my path.” His silver-blue eyes were intent upon hers. Suddenly, with resolution, he added, “We must produce another line. A line which lives by the principles of democracy and humanitarian values rather than by dictatorship, manipulation, and torture.”

  She remarked off-handedly, “There is no stopping Nicolette from her destiny, so it is pointless to presume to deter her.”

  Noticing that unmistakable gleam in her husband’s eye, she saw no need to inform him the future leader of such importance to the world was a descendent of Nicolette’s and therefore already well in hand.

  And then it happened. He opened his mouth to speak again.

  She sighed heavily, interrupting him. “Cannot you think of anything we might do in the present moment, my lord?”

  A slow, deep smile started at the corners of his mouth which made a woman shiver to behold, revealing his thoughts were very much in the present.

  “Indeed I can.” As he lowered his lips to hers he murmured, “Give me time, Lady Ravensdale. You loved me into being, but my life is, as yet, an unfinished dream.”

 

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