Valiant Soldier, Beautiful Enemy

by Diane Gaston

  “Gabe! It is you!” The man laughed with delight. “What a surprise.”

  Gabriel jumped from the gig and embraced the man. “Uncle.”

  Emmaline’s eyes stung with tears at the reunion. She wanted so much for such a reunion with Claude.

  “We were nearby,” Gabriel explained. With his arm around his uncle, Gabriel’s tall frame dwarfed the wiry, grey-haired man. He walked his uncle over to her. “Emmaline, this is my uncle, Mr William Deane.”

  “I am enchanted to meet you, Mr Deane,” she said.

  The man shuffled, looking shy.

  Gabriel seemed to struggle for words. “This is… Madame Mableau, Uncle. We are travelling together.”

  Emmaline’s brows rose. This time he did not tell his relation they were betrothed.

  His uncle seemed to accept Gabriel’s explanation. “Well, I am glad you came to visit. I was about to go to the cottage for tea. Young Johnny is in the stable. He can tend to your horse.”

  He shouted for the stable boy and Gabriel helped Emmaline from the gig. She was silent while she walked next to Gabriel on the path to a pretty thatched cottage. The dog bounded after them.

  The cottage reminded her a little of her house in Brussels. It opened to a sitting room with a kitchen in the back. Stairs led to a second floor, but it was spare of colour and decoration. No lace in sight.

  Gabriel’s uncle swept off the seat of a chair with his hand. “Sit, miss…madame…ma’am.”

  She smiled at him. “Call me Emmaline. But you and Gabriel must do the sitting to share your news.” She removed her hat and gloves and set them on a side table near the door. “Show me the kitchen and I will make the tea.”

  It felt almost normal to be heating water in a kettle and brewing tea. Uncle Will’s kitchen was easy to negotiate, as spare as the other room. Hearing Gabriel’s voice talking to his uncle gave her an ease almost like they had once shared together.

  She brought the tea pot and cups to the small dining table.

  “What news of the sale of the farm?” Gabriel asked.

  “No one offering as far as I am told.” Gabriel’s uncle took the cup from Emmaline’s hands. “There was some talk of his lordship acquiring the land, but they say he and her ladyship are off to Brighton, so we won’t know until hunting season. His lordship will be back then.”

  Gabriel turned to Emmaline. “He means the earl whose property borders this one.” He sipped his tea.

  His uncle laughed. “News in the village is that his son and some friends have come to hide from creditors. His lordship will not like that when he hears of it.”

  Gabriel’s tone changed. “His son is there?”

  “That he is,” his uncle responded, apparently not noticing Gabriel’s heightened interest. “Came about a week ago. Mr Appleton—you remember him, Gabe? The blacksmith—Appleton has it from Connor, he’s one of the footmen at the Hall—that they have been emptying the wine cellar and causing havoc.”

  Gabriel stared at him. “How many of them?”

  “How many?” His uncle looked puzzled.

  “How many of the son’s friends came with him?”

  His uncle shook his head. “I don’t know. More than two, I think, from what was said.”

  Gabriel shot to his feet. “I am going there.”

  Emmaline stood, as well. “Is it—?”

  “It must be,” he said, reaching for his hat.

  “Then I am going with you,” she insisted.

  His uncle rose with more difficulty. “What the devil is going on?”

  Gabriel turned to him. “I cannot explain now, Uncle. We have been searching for someone, and I believe he is among young Rappard’s party.”

  “But—”

  Emmaline grabbed her hat and gloves, but did not bother to don them. They left his uncle standing in the doorway as they ran back to the stable. Gabriel reached the stable first and was already hitching the resigned-looking horse back to the gig, aided by a puzzled stable boy.

  “Stay here, Emmaline,” Gabriel told her, quickly double-checking the harness.

  “Non.” She climbed on to the gig herself and quickly tied her bonnet and pulled on her gloves. “Claude may be nearby.”

  He climbed up beside her and drove the gig out at a faster pace than heretofore.

  Emmaline held on as they raced down dirt-packed roads. The same scenery she’d admired before whizzed by, a blur, while she prayed that Gabe’s intuition was correct, that Edwin Tranville would indeed be there. Alive.

  A red-stone mansion came into view and Gabriel drove directly to its door. The sides of their stalwart horse were heaving when Gabriel jumped down and turned to assist her. They rushed to the door and Gabriel pounded on it. He glanced at her and Emmaline saw her own anxiety mirrored in his eyes.

  If Edwin was not here… If they were too late…

  After what seemed a remarkably long time to wait, the door was opened by a liveried footman.

  Gabriel did not wait for the man to speak. “Is Mr Edwin Tranville a guest here?”

  The footman looked surprised. “May I tell Mr Tranville who is calling?”

  Edwin was here! Emmaline took a breath and attempted to calm herself. They’d come in time.

  Gabriel spoke in a calmer voice. “I am Captain Deane from Tranville’s old company. I have been looking for him to give him news of some importance.”

  The footman stepped aside to allow them entry. “Come in.”

  They entered a hall with polished wooden floors and wainscoted walls. A huge painting of a man wearing armour was on one wall. On the opposite wall hung armaments in a symmetrical design surrounding a shield on which was the family crest. In the centre of the crest was a falcon, its wings outspread.

  A crest with a bird on it.

  Emmaline exchanged a glance with Gabriel. He nodded. He’d seen it, too.

  The footman said, “You may wait in the drawing room. I will see if Mr Tranville is receiving callers.”

  Gabriel handed him his hat and gloves. “Is there someone who can attend to my horse?”

  “I will send someone for your horse.” The man placed Gabe’s things on the hall table and led them to the drawing room.

  The drawing room had a carved marble fireplace with a huge mirror above it. There were several sofas and chairs upon which to sit. Gabriel and Emmaline remained standing.

  The footman bowed and left them.

  “He is here.” Emmaline whispered to Gabriel after the man was gone.

  “Thank God.” Gabriel paced the floor.

  Emmaline stared at the door. Her knees shook and she suddenly felt as if she could not breathe. “I have not seen him since that day.”

  Gabriel came to her and held her arms in his strong hands. “He cannot hurt you.”

  She nodded, only partly consoled.

  They waited for what seemed like eternity. Each minute marked by the mantel clock made Emmaline’s heart pound harder.

  Why was it taking so long for Edwin Tranville to appear?

  Chapter Sixteen

  Footsteps finally approached the drawing-room door.

  In a moment Emmaline would face him, the man who had inhabited her nightmares for so many years, the man who had thought it a lark to watch her husband slain, who had tried to rape her and kill Claude.

  The man whose life she needed to save.

  She forced herself to turn towards the door.

  It opened.

  The creature who stood there was almost unrecognisable, slightly stooped, abdomen as round as a woman with child. He swept limp straw-coloured hair off his forehead and swayed slightly as he crossed the threshold. Surely she had never encountered this man before.

  Except his yellow-tinged face was marked with a jagged scar from the corner of his eye to his chin, the scar she’d cut into him.

  Edwin Tranville’s gaze passed over her without much interest and riveted on Gabriel. “Lawd. Wh
at the devil brings you here, Deane? Last time I had the dubious pleasure, you caused me the loss of my employment.”

  Gabriel straightened his spine. “I lost you your employment? You were insensible from drink. Sidmouth sacked you for it.”

  Edwin waved him off and slumped into a chair. “No matter. It is dashed early in the day for a social call, is it not? I had to be roused from my bed.”

  Emmaline glanced at the clock. “It approaches noon.”

  Edwin directed his gaze at her and raised his brows. “If we have been introduced, ma’am, it has totally slipped my mind.”

  She gasped. His face was burned in her memory, yet he had forgotten hers.

  Gabriel came to her side. “Do not be insulting.”

  Edwin smirked. “Why? Do not tell me she is your wife.”

  Gabriel’s hands curled into fists and Emmaline could feel the anger rising in him. With a sudden movement, he seized Edwin by his coat lapels and hauled him back into a standing position.

  “This is not a social call,” Gabriel snarled.

  Edwin’s expression changed to shock and fear.

  Gabriel shook him. “Cease your nonsense and listen to me.”

  Edwin nodded.

  “This is the woman you tried to rape and kill in Badajoz.”

  Emmaline’s knees trembled. Gabriel’s sudden violence frightened even her.

  Edwin tried to pull away. “I never—”

  “Do not deny it,” Gabriel went on, his voice deep and rumbling. “I was there. Others were there. We saw you.” He released Edwin as suddenly as he’d seized him. “She cut your face.”

  Edwin’s hand flew to his scar. He staggered back, hatred flashing through his eyes. Emmaline’s fingers twitched and she remembered the feel of the knife as it had sliced through Edwin’s skin.

  Edwin pointed a finger at Gabriel and laughed. “You are inventing this, Deane. I can tell.” He shifted to a sing-song voice. “I have no need of your attempt at humour, which cannot be your purpose for calling. Even I cannot believe you would come all this way—” He stopped himself and peered at Gabriel. “How the devil did you know I was here? I’ve not written to anyone of my whereabouts.”

  Gabriel glared at him. “We have been searching the countryside for you.”

  Emmaline’s thoughts raced throughout this exchange. Could it be Edwin truly did not remember what had happened in Badajoz? Surely he was lying about it.

  “Searching for me?” Edwin laughed again. “Whatever for? To tell me I’d done something I never did?”

  Emmaline spoke up, surprising herself. “You tried to kill my son. Do you not remember? Do you not remember the blade of my knife cutting into your face to stop you?”

  Again his fingers flew to his scar, and his eyes darted as if searching for the memory. “I—I was wounded in the siege.”

  Gabriel shoved him back into the chair. “You hid from the siege, but when it was over, you were eager to take part in the plunder of the city. I do not know what else you did that day, but I know what you tried to do to this lady and her son.”

  Edwin wrapped his arms around his abdomen and winced as if in pain. “So what is this about? Did you chase me down to extort money from me or some such thing? Are you in that much need of funds, Deane?”

  Gabriel stiffened. “I need nothing from you. If you would cease your babbling, I will tell you why we are here.”

  Edwin made a show of keeping his mouth closed.

  Emmaline dreaded Gabriel’s explanation. Could a baron’s son have Claude arrested for planning to murder him? It seemed a likely possibility.

  Gabriel paced several steps before beginning to speak. “We came here to save your life.”

  Edwin laughed.

  “It is true!” Emmaline cried.

  Gabriel leaned down to him. “Believe me. Your life is of no consequence to me, but we have knowledge of someone who wants to kill you for what you did at Badajoz. Our concern is for him, that he not commit such a crime, even against the likes of you.”

  “This is nonsense.” Edwin’s trembling hands belied his words. “I did nothing. Nobody wants to kill me.”

  “But he does,” Emmaline cried. “He may be nearby even now. You must allow Gabriel to protect you.”

  “He may be lying in wait for you,” Gabriel said.

  Edwin shrank in the chair. “No! There is no one lying in wait for me.”

  Emmaline felt sick inside. How could they convince him?

  Gabriel went on. “Listen to me. You were with two other soldiers, men who killed this woman’s husband. You tried to rape her, until her young son attempted to stop you. You tried to kill him and this woman battled with you, cutting your face. Another soldier chased off the others, but I also arrived at this time. You were drunk. You were carried back to your billet—at considerable risk, I might add.”

  “Landon,” Edwin whispered. “But he carried me away from the city walls, not from the city. I’d fallen trying to scale the walls.”

  Gabriel shook his head. “Your father invented that story. I assure you, I would not wish to set eyes on you again if not to prevent this person from killing you and risking a hanging for it.”

  Edwin glanced away, and it was clear his mind was turning. After a moment, his eyes narrowed and he pointed to Emmaline. “You are in league with him. If not for money, then to ruin me! Deane has always hated me. Is he paying you to go along with this story?”

  Emmaline felt outrage. “We speak the truth.”

  Edwin’s voice went up in pitch. “It is not the truth. I would not do such a common thing.” He pointed to Emmaline. “I received this scar because of the siege. I remember that.” He glanced away and his voice dropped. “I think I remember that.”

  Gabriel spoke. “We want you to come with us now. I will take you to a place of safety. Some place where you can be protected. Your father’s house, perhaps…”

  Edwin rolled his eyes.

  Gabriel appeared to ignore him. “When we know you are safe, we’ll send word.”

  “Put my life in your hands?” Edwin’s laugh was mocking this time. “No, thank you, indeed. I would not do so even if what you say is true. I will stay right here and not listen to your nonsense. It is a trick.”

  Gabriel shouted, “It is not a trick!”

  “It is the truth,” Emmaline repeated. What more could they say to convince him?

  Edwin shook his head. “I’m too clever to fall for that. Goes with breeding, you know. You’ve always resented me for my rank, Deane.”

  Gabriel responded, “I outrank you. I made Captain well before you.”

  Edwin gave him a scornful look. “I meant my rank as a gentleman. You stink of trade and you always have.”

  Emmaline watched Gabriel flush with anger. With fists clenched he leaned towards Edwin, but somehow kept his temper.

  Gabe spoke in a firm, low voice. “I am trying to save your life.”

  “Fustian!” Edwin stood, almost losing his balance. “You are starting to bore me. Leave me now or give me the great pleasure of having you tossed out.”

  They could not leave, could they? Emmaline refused to believe they had come so far, with such difficulty, only to be forced to walk away.

  “Then we can do no more than warn you,” Gabriel said. “Check your back and take care.”

  “Please, listen to us,” Emmaline implored. A warning was not enough.

  But Edwin merely made a dismissive gesture and sauntered to the door.

  He paused, holding on to the doorknob, and turned back to them. “Now if you will excuse me. I have an attack of the runs.”

  Emmaline uttered a cry of frustration as he ambled out.

  Claude pulled Apollo back as he and Louisa approached Rappard Hall. It would not do to let anyone see them riding side by side like equals.

  Louisa sighed. “I wish we could simply ride away to some distant land.”

  It had been as pe
rfect a morning as Claude was capable of imagining. Louisa had talked to him as a friend, as if none of England’s notions about class separated them.

  “You know,” she went on, speaking loud enough for him to hear her, “I feel as if I have poured out my heart to you, but you say little about yourself.”