I'll save my note for the end.
Enjoy!
Basilio called on James two days after he'd proposed to Vitalia.
He was shown to James' study where James was seated at his desk, flipping through furniture pallets and fabric swatches, attempting to decide how he wanted to further outfit his house.
Vitalia had told him she would help, but gave him full control over what she dubbed "the more manly rooms" of the house—this included his study, as well as a large den and his dressing room. James looked up when Basilio was shown in, setting the swatches down onto his desk and leaning back into his chair. His dark eyes rested rather mercilessly on the Spaniard before him.
Basilio dipped into a deep bow, deeper the necessary, and with a soft sigh, James motioned for him to sit in one of two chairs on the other side of his desk. Basilio did so rather quickly; James could tell he was nervous.
Firstly, he offered his congratulations on the engagement. James accepted them, nodding his head and verbally thanking Basilio as well. He wondered how Basilio had heard of the engagement so fast, he and Vitalia had yet to announce it to the public, but James let the man continue uninterrupted.
After that, Basilio took a deep breath. "I want to apologize to you, James," he said, faltering slightly as he spoke.
He did not specify what he was apologizing for, but he figured that James would know.
James did.
"My actions were—" he seemed to fight the words, self-disgust on his face, "—despicable. Disgusting. Ungentlemanly. Any other awful adjectives you can think of, that is how I behaved that night. I am here to offer my deepest apologies to you."
James looked at him, studying him with his dark eyes. He knew that Basilio was sincere; he would not have come to speak to him if he hadn't been.
As he looked at Basilio, James realized he now had two distinct options: He could accept Basilio's apology and leave the subject at that. Or, he could express all the rage he felt for the man in front of him, tell him how he had very nearly ruined the happiness he and Vitalia now shared, making him feel worse than he obviously already felt.
If James had been a lesser man, he would have taken the second option.
"Thank you," James said quietly, his voice sounding almost deadly, "for apologizing."
Basilio nodded and relaxed visibly.
"How did you know about the engagement?" James asked, genuinely interested. He hadn't told anyone, but it was possible Vitalia had if Basilio had gone to her to apologize as well.
"I just spoke with Armand," Basilio told him. "I apologized to Vitalia before I came to you, and also informed Armand of my transfer."
"Transfer?" James asked, raising an eyebrow.
Basilio nodded. "I requested a change in station last week, after…" he trailed off, then continued, "I've been transferred to Madrid, for now. I think my mother wants me in town for matchmaking purposes, however," he added as an afterthought. James didn't doubt that, as a countess, Basilio's mother could influence where he was stationed.
"When do you leave?"
"Three days," Basilio replied. "I really should be packing." He stood then, and James rose with him.
Slowly, James held out his hand. Basilio looked at him, then back to his hand, and then shook it firmly. Basilio departed James' house soon after, and after James had sat down once more, he couldn't help feeling as if something heavy had been lifted from his shoulders.
---
James and Vitalia were married five months later, in the spring, in Palma de Mallorca.
All of James' cadets attended the ceremony, filling the rows of 'his side' of the church. Vitalia's side was filled with her relatives, some of them very distant, and more than one of them was a noble. James met Basilio's cousin, who was in fact second in command of the Spanish Royal Navy. He was a jovial man, shorter than James with a more husky build.
The ceremony was beautiful, complete with flower petals tossed from the church balcony, exquisite music, and heartfelt vows, but in James' mind, nothing would ever compare to how beautiful Vitalia looked as she walked down the aisle to him.
She had a gown made from the same peach colored silk she wore at the Governor's Ball, with a sheer white train. The dress was simple, with a delicately jeweled bodice, off-the-shoulder sleeves, and a deep neckline. She had her hair pinned back, dusted with jewels, so that pieces of it hung in snake-like tendrils around her face.
The moment they said 'I do', James could not think of a time he was happier than he was at that moment. He sent thanks to all the gods he could think of that he'd had the will and determination to jump from the dingy rowboat and swim his way back to life, and then he thanked all the gods he could think of that he'd landed himself on Armand's beach.
The pair honeymooned on a small Italian island, returning a month after they'd left.
Deemed 'fully recovered' by his two doctors, James began his work with the Navy once more, spending his days training with his soldiers and his nights with his wife. Vitalia busied herself by redecorating James' home, taking charge once James began working once more.
She also spent time painting; during her wedding reception, one of her guests had spotted her work in Armand's home and encouraged her to try and sell her pieces. She'd sold very few, but she was proud of herself anyways. James had glowed with pride when she told him of her first sale and continued to encourage her. As the months passed and the couple fell into routine, Vitalia realized she was with child. James couldn't have been more thrilled. The prospect of being a father, once something he rarely gave thought to, had sprung into his mind on their honeymoon.
James came home one evening to find his pregnant wife standing in his study, hands on her swollen belly.
"What do you think you're doing!" James demanded, rushing in and attempting to usher her down and into a chair.
Vitalia laughed, resisting her husband. "I am perfectly fine, James," she told him with mock sternness, "This baby is not coming for some time."
James still looked as if he wanted put her into a chair, but he only nodded. "What are you doing in here?" he asked. Vitalia was certainly allowed in his study, but she rarely ventured inside unless James was already there.
"I decorated for you," she said, grinning mysteriously at him.
James blinked. His study had been re-decorated long before they'd been married, nearly immediately after he'd recovered, and the walls were still the same color and all the furniture was still the same as it had been.
"There," Vitalia said with a smile as James looked around the room, perplexed. She pointed to the wall beside James' desk, and he immediately saw what she meant.
There, on the dark red walls of his study, hung a portrait of himself. He knew immediately who its maker was. The life-like appearance of the portrait had James feeling as if he was looking into a mirror. His mouth was soft in the painting, very unlike one that had been commissioned when he lived in the Caribbean, and his eyes were shining.
"I had a lot of trouble with the eyes," Vitalia said quietly and she stared at her work as well. She slipped her arm through her husbands. "I tried to capture the way they shine, the way they looked whenever you looked at me."
James glanced at her, smiling. "They still shine when I look at you," he told her.
She smiled. "I know." Turning back to the painting, she let out a thoughtful sigh. "This is what I wanted to show you, that night," she said.
'That night' was what they used to refer to the evening of the Governor's Ball. James glanced at the painting.
"You've had it done since then?" he asked. "Why didn't you show it to me sooner?"
She grinned at him, "An artists work is never finished, James…that, and I wanted to fix it up. It had to be perfect."
James smiled down at his wife. Raising his hand, he cupped her cheek and turned her face towards him. "Thank you," he said softly. He was thanking her for more than the picture she'd given him. He was thanking her for everything: when she'd rescued him from the beach, when she taught him patiently how to speak Spanish, when she'd brought him back from his second near death experience…he was thanking her for everything she'd ever done for him, everything she would ever do for him, and everything she brought into his life.
Slowly, stroking her cheek with his thumb, James smiled and leaned down, placing a gentle kiss on Vitalia's lips.
And so end 'Breaking the Surface'.
I am proud to say I stuck with and finished this story, and I think I did it in a way that will leave my readers happy (at least, I'm hoping so).
To all of you who favorited this and had it on alert, and to everyone who reviewed, even if you never came back and continued reading, it all meant so much to me that you cared what happened to James and Vitalia (and Armand and Adela, because they're awesome, too) and that you were interested in this story.
Please review once more, just for the heck of it, and let me know what you thought about the ending and the story in general. I'll love you even more than I already do (!!!).
Thank you,
Luinuial