Maximilian Morrel had been living in absolute hell for the past twenty-four hours.
Like any person desperately in love, he’d sensed something was wrong. After Valentine’s grandmother returned and her grandfather died, he knew the Villefort family would make their move. They’d force Valentine into that arranged marriage she’d been dreading. His gut feeling had been right, unfortunately. Now he stood outside the estate gates, pale and trembling beneath the chestnut trees, waiting for her.
Valentine hadn’t expected him at this odd hour. She’d only wandered to their usual meeting spot by chance, or maybe her heart had pulled her there, sensing he needed her. When she heard Morrel call her name, she ran to the gate.
"You’re here now?" she asked, confused. "What’s wrong?"
"Everything," Morrel replied, his voice tight. "I’m here with bad news, Valentine. Really bad news."
"This house is already drowning in sadness," Valentine said softly. "But tell me anyway. What is it?"
Morrel tried to keep his emotions in check, but his hands were shaking. "When are they making you get married?"
Valentine’s heart sank. She gripped the iron bars between them. "I’ll tell you everything, I’ve never hidden anything from you. This morning, they brought it up. My grandmother, the one person I thought would support me, actually wants this marriage to happen. She’s pushing for it hard. They’re just waiting for Franz d’Epinay to arrive in the city. The day after that, they’ll make me sign the marriage contract."
Morrel let out a deep, painful sigh. He stared at Valentine like he was memorizing her face. "God, it hurts hearing this from you. Like you’re reading my death sentence out loud. And you’re saying there’s nothing we can do? We just have to wait for this Franz guy to show up, and then it’s over? Well, guess what, he’s already here. He arrived in Paris this morning."
"I was at the Count of Monte Cristo’s place an hour ago," Morrel continued, his voice getting shakier. "We were talking about your family’s loss, about how much you’re suffering. Then I heard a carriage pull up outside. I’ve never believed in bad omens before, but the sound of those wheels made me feel like something terrible was about to happen. Then footsteps on the stairs, heavy and final, like something out of a nightmare. The door opened. Albert de Morcerf walked in first, and for a second I thought maybe I was wrong, maybe everything would be okay. But then another guy came in behind him, and the Count said, ’Ah, here’s Baron Franz d’Epinay!’ I tried to hold it together. Maybe I went pale, maybe I was shaking, I don’t know. But I forced myself to smile. Five minutes later, I left without hearing a single word anyone said."
"Oh, Maximilian..." Valentine whispered, her heart breaking for him.
"Look, Valentine, we’re at a crossroads here. What happens next is up to you. My entire future, my life, depends on your answer." He paused, looking directly into her eyes. "What are you going to do?"
Valentine lowered her head. The weight of the question crushed her.
"Listen to me," Morrel said, his voice firming up. "We’ve both known this moment was coming. This isn’t the time to cry and feel sorry for ourselves. Leave that for people who want to suffer quietly and accept whatever life throws at them. Sure, maybe they’ll get some heavenly reward for being so obedient. But we’re different. If we want to fight for what we want, we can’t waste a single moment feeling sorry for ourselves. We have to hit back. So I’m asking you directly, are you going to fight for us?"
Valentine trembled, staring at him in shock. The idea of going against her father, her grandmother, her entire family, it had never even crossed her mind. Dıscover more novels at novel[f]ire.net
"What are you saying?" she asked. "Fight? How? That would be completely wrong! How could I go against my father’s wishes? Against my dying grandmother’s final request? That’s impossible!"
Morrel flinched like she’d slapped him. "You’re too good a person not to understand what I’m asking. And I think you understand perfectly, that’s why you’re already giving up. No, you’re right. You’ll use all your strength to suffer in silence, to grieve privately like you said. But upset your father? Disturb your grandmother’s last days? Never, right?"
"You’re right," Morrel said, his voice going flat and cold.
"Why are you talking like that?" Valentine cried out.
"I’m talking like someone who admires you, Miss Villefort."
"’Miss Villefort’?" Valentine’s voice cracked. "You’re calling me ’Miss’ now? You selfish jerk! You see me in complete despair and you’re acting like you don’t even know me!"
"No, I understand you perfectly," Morrel shot back. "You won’t go against your father. You won’t upset your grandmother. And tomorrow you’ll sign that contract that ties you to Franz for the rest of your life."
"But what else can I do? Tell me!"
"Don’t ask me. I’m way too selfish to give you good advice right now." Morrel’s jaw clenched, his hands balling into fists. His voice had dropped to barely above a whisper, but she could hear the desperation in it.
"What would you have me do, Maximilian? If I was willing to listen to you, what would you suggest?"
"It’s not my place to say."
"No, you have to tell me. You have to advise me."
"You really want my advice, Valentine? Seriously?"
"Yes! Of course I do. If it’s good advice, I’ll follow it. You know how devoted I am to you."
Morrel pushed aside one of the loose boards in the fence. "Give me your hand. Let me know you forgive me for getting angry. My head’s a mess right now. For the past hour, I’ve been thinking the craziest thoughts. If you reject what I’m about to say-"
"Just tell me what you’re thinking," Valentine said, looking up at the darkening sky.
"I’m a free man," Maximilian said. "And I have enough money to take care of you. I swear to you, I’ll make you my wife legally, properly, before I even kiss your forehead."
Valentine’s breath caught. "You’re scaring me."
"Run away with me," Morrel said urgently. "I’ll take you to my sister’s place, she’s an amazing person, and she’ll love you like family. We can go to Algeria, to England, to America, anywhere you want. Or we can hide out in the countryside until our friends manage to smooth things over with your family."
Valentine shook her head, pulling back. "I was afraid you’d say that. Maximilian, that’s crazy. I’d have to be even crazier than you to actually do it. It’s impossible. Completely impossible!"
"So you’re just going to accept whatever they decide for you? You won’t even try to fight?"
"Yes," Valentine whispered. "Even if it kills me."
"Fine," Maximilian said, his voice hollow. "You’re right. I’m the crazy one here. You’re thinking clearly, rationally. I get it now, passion makes people blind and stupid. So it’s settled then. Tomorrow you’ll officially belong to Franz d’Epinay. Not just some theatrical contract-signing ceremony, but by your own choice?"
"Stop it! You’re making this so much harder!" Valentine was crying now. "What would you do if someone asked your sister to run away with them?"
"Miss Villefort," Morrel said with a bitter smile, "I’m selfish, like you already pointed out. So I’m not thinking about what other people would do. I’m only thinking about what I’m going to do. I’ve known you for less than a year. Since the day I first saw you, my entire hope for happiness has been winning your love. One day you told me you loved me back. Since that day, my whole future has been about making you mine, because having you would make life worth living. Now I’ve lost that chance. I thought I was going to win everything, and instead I’ve lost it all. It’s like a gambler betting everything he has, and everything he doesn’t have, and losing it all in one night."
Morrel said all of this in a calm, measured tone. Valentine studied his face, trying to see past the composure to the pain underneath. Her own heart was shattering, but she fought to keep it hidden.