What on earth…What was she doing with her feet? Kicking her embroidery about? There could be no comprehension where Alita Stanton was concerned.
It was no surprise to him the ladies would not change into something more suitable. On a rare occasion a woman set her pretensions aside and listened to reason, but he certainly didn’t expect rational behavior in this quarter.
“You were not aware of my coming, Miss Stanton? You acted surprised to see me,” he asked innocently, acted being the material point. Bending at the waist, Val looked up at her through his expertly executed bow. “You astonish me. It occurred to me that you orchestrated my arrival.”
“Certainly not,” she gasped. She was breathtakingly feminine even in her affected shock. She arose from her seat and moved gracefully toward her visitor, her expression determined. Startled, he wondered what she could possibly have planned in front of the Dowager Duchess of Yarbury.
I welcome it.
“Only consider, my lord,”—Alita thrust her hand in front of his face for his inspection, revealing a drop of blood on her fingertip—“I would not have pricked myself had I not been so startled by your sudden appearance.”
“I am saddened for your injury, Miss Stanton, and yet, it is a very small amount of blood.”
“Apparently spilt in vain.” She smiled up at him, and it was his turn to catch his breath. “Clearly I attempted to mutilate myself in the hope that my bleeding might elicit sympathy, inducing you to make an offer for me.”
“Alita Jane!” the dowager duchess exclaimed, but her expression was more curious than censorious.
“Nothing you do would surprise me, Miss Stanton,” he replied matter-of-factly.
“Because you have no clear picture of my character in your mind. In contrast, Lord Ravensdale, I understand you very well. Would that you had even a glimmer of insight in return.”
The dowager duchess cleared her throat loudly. By her Grace’s reaction, it appeared this was not her granddaughter’s usual behavior. Val contained his mirth with the greatest effort.
How had his mood transformed so quickly? Alita Stanton truly is a sorceress.
Val had come here angrier than a hornet. He had not been in the suite five minutes, and already the minx had his head swimming. He had never been in the presence of a more diverting woman.
“You seem to have forgotten your manners, Alita,” the dowager duchess pronounced half-heartedly, her lips forming a pinched smile. Val thought he saw a glimmer of hope in her Grace’s eyes and a tug at the corner of her mouth, much out of place with her demeanor.
“Grandmamma, please tell Lord Ravensdale the truth—that I had nothing to do with this meeting,” Alita pleaded, turning towards her.
“Most certainly the arrangement was all mine,” stated the duchess, her tone of voice indicating that she considered the information irrelevant. Her eyes eagerly watched the two young people, her expression subdued.
“I thank you for your confidence, your Grace.” He bowed to the dowager duchess. “And would it be too bold to inquire how you came by my name?”
“Contemptuous presumption,” Alita intonated with feeling as she glared at him, followed by a warm smile.
“Indeed,” Marvella murmured with raised eyebrows. “I merely asked Sir Evelyn who was best qualified to show us the pyramids. I am sure that is no great secret.”
“Do not attempt to appeal to his lordship’s logic, Grandmamma,” admonished Alita condescendingly, as poised and refined as a duchess herself. “Lord Captain Ravensdale does not conceive that anyone has anything to add to his knowledge of the world. Because I dare to pose a different reality than his limited view, he considers me to be a conniving female or a lunatic. I am neither, but he is too obstinate and vainglorious to see it.”
“Your affection for me comes as a surprise, Miss Stanton, but I must warn you that I am impervious to your flattery.”
“In fact, Lord Ravensdale has much in common with the ancient pharaohs, perceiving themselves to be divine.” Alita laughed nonchalantly, still addressing her grandmother, as if she were discussing a wayward child. “He is an expert on the subject for good reason.”
“Ah, you think me an expert on something, Miss Stanton? I am gratified.”
She gracefully returned to her seat and pretended to study yet another half-finished embroidery, which she had expeditiously left on the end table next to her chair. Without looking up, she murmured, “Lord Ravensdale’s inability to look outside his own biased understanding of the world will be his downfall.”
“And if I am the Pharaoh”—a slow smile rose to Val’s lips—“you have much in common with Cleopatra, Miss Stanton.”
“Lord Ravensdale, please consider your words.” Alita turned scarlet red as she immediately looked up from her ill-advised sewing. In a tone of voice which was much subdued compared to her facial expression, she calmly stated, “My grandmother will construe me to have an undeserved reputation.”
“There, there, child.” Marvella reached across the end-table between them and patted Alita’s hand. “Have you never engaged in any idle flirting before? Lord Ravensdale paid you a compliment.”
Her Grace scrutinized him. Her expression was favorable, and she did not appear to be one bit fooled by the hostile banter.
“Miss Stanton, I am delighted you bring up the subject of your reputation,” replied Val, his voice as smooth as silk. He moved to the fireplace and leaned against it, as if he felt quite at home.
Alita’s eyes opened wide, alarm and dismay evident in her expression.
“I certainly would not wish to mar your reputation, Miss Stanton,” Val continued, after pausing just long enough to watch her face turn white.
There, that was sufficient. “Though it would have gratified me more than I can express had I actually been informed of your reputation and your illustrious family background upon our meeting.”
“For the degree of familiarity which exists between you two, it is surprising that you know so little about each other,” mused the dowager duchess.
Miss Alita turned another shade whiter, if that were possible.
“Can you enlighten me, Miss Stanton, on the reason for that omission?” He shook his head as if struggling with a puzzle. “Pray, why the secrecy? I have racked my brain, trying to discern a logical explanation for why you would wish to hide your family from me.”
“Hide?” She uttered. “I do not wish to hide anything from you, Lord Ravensdale. To the contrary. I wish to enlighten you, which is proving to be impossible.”
“Why then would you not wish to acknowledge the connection, Miss Stanton? Most young ladies would kill for just such a connection. If I had known who you were, would it have interfered with the purpose of your visit? And what was that purpose?”
The dowager duchess turned to gaze upon her granddaughter with a decided interest. “Yes, what was the purpose, Alita?”
“It was…it was…Well I…my connections didn’t seem important at the time,” Alita finally managed.
“Didn’t seem important,” he repeated solemnly, gratified that she had finally lost her composure. She had discomposed him since the moment of their first meeting, and he was happy to return the favor. He added in a very low voice, “It didn’t seem important to you, but to me it was of a singular importance, Miss Stanton.”
“I–I was thinking of other…” murmured Alita breathlessly.
“You found the words to tell me that I would not know your parents, Miss Stanton. It would have taken no more words to have simply told me the truth.” He touched his index finger to his forehead while producing the most cordial of smiles. “Why then the omission, I ask myself?”
“I…You…We…” Alita stammered without actually creating words.
“If it was your intent to make me look the fool, I must congratulate you, Miss Stanton, for I shudder to say you succeeded.” Val made every effort to hide the anger from his expression although, in truth, he felt her deliberate deception to be
a betrayal.
Alita opened and then closed her mouth as if she felt helpless to do anything. Val would have sworn that she was truly frustrated. Why? He thought the game was the entire point for her.
“It’s of no use,” she retorted faintly. “You are determined not to understand anything I say, my lord. I don’t know whether to scream or to cry, and I no longer have the energy for either.”
“Believe me, Miss Stanton, I am attempting to understand.”
“Grandmamma, I am not going to Giza today.” Alita turned to her grandmother. “I feel a headache fast coming on. As you must have observed, Lord Ravensdale’s sole purpose is to be disagreeable and to vex me.”
“I am generally not so inclined, Miss Stanton. Social games are the epitome of wasted time in my view.”
“Clearly. And I would not wish you to overtax yourself, Lord Ravensdale.” She turned to the duchess. “I don’t find his lordship’s manners to be at all appealing, Grandmamma, which he has only just indicated is precisely his intent.”
“Indeed? They have a certain reckless appeal,” the duchess murmured as she picked up her own embroidery and began stitching, “and are not so very different from your own on this occasion, my sweet.”
“Grandmamma!”
“Miss Stanton, how can my desire to arrive at the truth distress you?” he replied calmly. “I did not hide my identity from you. I was forthcoming and sincere in all of my communications with you.”
“And I as well,” replied Alita with a heavy sigh. “Everything I told you was the truth, Lord Ravensdale. As I told you at the time, the purpose of my visit had nothing to do with me.”
“But that did not give you the right to mislead me as to your identity.”
“Mislead? I did no such thing. It was simply irrelevant.” She glared at him. “I find it to be indescribably irritating that you believe nothing I say despite my sincerity of purpose.”
“If I could but discern that purpose.”
“If you cannot discern that which was clearly communicated to you, there can be nothing more for you here.” Her mouth formed a thin line as she returned to her embroidery. From what he could see, she had little to no talent in that endeavor. “I repeat, it is a waste of my time to go to Giza today.”
“Oh, yes, we have so many pressing demands upon our time,” the duchess remarked, pulling the thread a full six inches above her skillfully executed design.
Scrutinizing the scene before him, he could not take his eyes from Alita. The very thought of walking out the door pained him. On the one hand, it would be wise to leave this fair maiden’s vicinity forever. His wish had come true: he was now released from the obligation.
On the other hand, Val considered, try as he might to remove himself, he truly wanted to spend the day with her.
I should never have let myself get this close.
Curiosity always got the better of him. And he had never been so desirous of deciphering a woman’s personality in his life. Much as he literally lived to translate languages and hieroglyphics, he wanted to understand the complexities making up the puzzle which was Miss Alita Stanton.
Val generally found people so easy to read that he lost interest in the task. And yet he was no closer now to understanding Miss Stanton than he had been at the moment of their first meeting.
In fact, he was more confounded than ever.
He knew he should swiftly remove himself from this room and never look back. Alita Stanton would not come after him.
Instead, against a myriad of alarms ringing in his head, he bowed, saying “I apologize most profusely if I offended you Miss Stanton. I merely wished you to make your agenda known to me, and that is still my wish. May I make it up to you and be your guide at the pyramids today?”
The duchess looked up at him with interest. Alita glared at him through long lashes, her lips quivering.
God, she is beautiful.
She was still seething. Livid, in fact. And yet he read in her eyes a strong desire to be with him. She was both furious and wished to be in his company.
Why? It was utterly perplexing.
He had much the same feelings towards her, so he supposed he shouldn’t be surprised.
Her mouth twisted off to one side, and she lowered her head. Finally, she sighed heavily, as if yielding to an impossible force.
“Lord Ravensdale, I have traveled far.” She sighed heavily, as if yielding to an enchanted spell. “Can you pretend for one brief day that you don’t know everything? Without that, how can wisdom impart its gifts to you?”
That was just about the last thing he expected her to say. Who is this sorceress? He thought he might be the one under a spell.
“I shall do my best, Miss Alita,”
And, successful or not, I shall enjoy every moment of it.
22
The Curse of the Pharaohs
“I never imagined,” Alita whispered, breathless. Nothing could have prepared her for the ancient landscape coming to life before her eyes. Despite having seen drawings of the pharaohs’ resting grounds in intricate detail, Alita was mesmerized by the scene unfolding before her.
“It is astounding, is it not, Miss Stanton?” The earl of Ravensdale must have been here a hundred times and he seemed no less impressed than she was.
“Oh, yes!” The Sphinx first came into view, guarding the three pyramids at Giza. The Sphinx’s paws alone were fifty feet in length. The magnificence of the statue with the body of a lion and the head of a king was both breathtaking and threatening.
Since leaving London, this was not the first time Alita had experienced these emotions. It was now an everyday occurrence. The entire trip to Egypt had been exhilarating, riveting, and frightening, causing her to reconsider all she thought she knew.
Her pleasure made it difficult to remain angry at Lord Ravensdale. Despite his arrogance, he was an excellent guide and companion.
The day’s journey had been both magically picturesque and marked by contrasts. En route first by carriage to the Nile, they then boarded a felucca—a small boat with a sail—across the Nile to the west bank. Once across the river, they rode donkeys to the pyramids themselves. Alita’s excitement had grown until she beheld before her a scale of monument not fully assimilated by the senses.
“It is wondrous and a pinnacle of contrasts,” she exclaimed, surprised she was able to find her voice.
Valerius assisted her in alighting from the donkey even though she was a mere six inches off the sand, walking beside her on parts of the journey. Turning from the sight before her, she caught him scanning her face and observing her sense of wonder with noticeable approval.
Her antagonistic relationship with Captain Lord Ravensdale had definitely taken a turn for the better. His expression seemed to say, ‘You understand.’
“I myself never fail to enter these sacred grounds without feeling awestruck. I am somehow bound to a people who lived four millennia ago at the same time I stand in the present moment.”
“That is precisely the sensation—as if thousands of years meld together into one moment. I’ve never experienced anything like it.” Alita was startled at their accord. She had perhaps found the only point of harmony between them. “It is the most illuminating—and ambrosial—experience.”
“Ambrosia,” he repeated, staring into her eyes, adding softly, “What an apt description.”
“Heaven save me!” Marvella groaned, swatting a young Arab boy’s hands with her fan who was attempting to keep her from falling off a donkey.
“Many pardons, your Grace.” Lord Ravensdale released Alita’s waist—reluctantly, it seemed to her—and moved to assist the dowager duchess. He kept his eyes glued to Alita as he continued their conversation. “Even the geography embodies the spiritual. Cairo is on the east bank while the sun sets behind the pyramids on the west bank, symbolizing the end of life on earth.”
“No more speaking of the end of life on earth—which is no doubt upon us,” Marvella retorted.
&
nbsp; “Look! Lord Ravensdale!” Alita giggled as she pointed.
“Are you pointing to the men on camels, Miss Stanton?” He placed the dowager duchess firmly on the ground with one swoop of his arms.
“Yes. How picturesque. And what is their purpose here, Lord Ravensdale?”
“Miss Alita, is it not obvious?” He had begun to drop her last name on occasion, and it felt strangely tender. His eyes were intense and passionate despite the gentleness in his voice.
“Nothing is obvious about this place, young man, except that it is revolting. Do address my granddaughter’s overly inquisitive nature at once so we may proceed out of this heat.” Marvella patted her hair and directed Flora to open her parasol, who almost hit her in the eye with it in her nervousness to please.
“Take care, girl!”
“Security, Duchess.”
“Security? What gibberish are you spouting? Are you English? Then speak it.”
“The men on camels. They are the mighty force protecting this world treasure,” explained Lord Ravensdale.
“The only remaining wonder of the seven wonders of the ancient world is being protected by men on camels?” Alita asked.
“Precisely.” Lord Ravensdale nodded, the right corner of his mouth rising slightly. “What else?”
“Could this trip hold any more surprises?” She who had always preferred home to every other location was amazed by this most foreign of lands.
“I pray to God it does not,” muttered the dowager duchess as she directed Flora in smoothing her dress. “I am astonished you are able to hear yourself think in this din.”
“I did tell you, your Grace, it was not a tea party we would be attending.” He shrugged. “I even went so far as to convey that your clothing was too constraining, a communication which might have gained me a slap in the face in some circles.”
“As well it should have. I would do so now if I could reach you.”
“Oh, no, Grandmamma. I shudder to think how we would be getting along without Lord Ravensdale,” Alita countered. In point of fact, the area was swarming with natives, both guides and beggars, including hundreds of mere children begging for candy, tobacco, and coin. Several had attempted to steal, but the earl’s formidable appearance and ready command of both the Arabic and African languages created a barrier of protection around them.
The Destiny Code: The Soldier and the Mystic (Daughters of the Empire Book 1) Page 21