Valiant Soldier, Beautiful Enemy (30 page)

Good God.

Was that what Fate had in store for him? Was that where he belonged?

Only four days after Gabriel had left her, Emmaline and her son stood on the deck of a packet bound for the Continent.

“I swear I will earn the money to pay him back,” Claude said, still fuming about the fact that Gabriel’s money had paid for their passage. “Every last
penny.
” He spat out the English word as if it were rancid meat.

Emmaline stared at the bank of the River Hull, at the English land she was leaving behind. “It was Gabriel’s gift to us.”

He made a disparaging sound.

These last few days with Claude had been difficult. His anger was still so palpable, she’d feared he would run off again at any moment to go in search of Edwin. She’d had to be so careful not to upset him any more than he was upset already.

When he was back in Brussels perhaps he could begin to leave the past behind and look to his future. Perhaps his future was in France. It might be best if he did visit her parents in France and not lie about it as he had done before.

It was so much easier to think of what Claude should do, where Claude should go, than think of her own future. To Emmaline, her future loomed empty and lonely, even though her aunt would expect her back at the lace shop.

Without Gabriel at her side, everything seemed empty and lonely.

She glanced at Claude. He’d removed his cap and the river breeze tousled his dark curls, so much like her own. When she blinked her eyes, he looked one moment like the boy he’d once been, another moment, like a man.

The boy reminded her of another voyage for which Gabriel had paid, the one that had got them out of Spain and back to France. The memory stabbed at her heart.

“I am glad to be leaving England,” Claude said, although his tone seemed to contain some regret. Regret for not killing Edwin?

She had the sense there was more to it than that, but she took a deep breath. “I am glad you are leaving England, as well.”

He glanced at her. “What of you,
Maman?
You do not say you are glad to leave.”

She returned his gaze, but did not answer.

He frowned. “You are still pining for Captain Deane, even after he abandoned you.”

Smaller boats crowded the river. Ahead of them, Emmaline could see the North Sea. When they reached it, she would truly be leaving England—and Gabriel—behind.

Her throat tightened. “Leave me to my feelings, Claude. I cannot speak of them.”

His brows knit in an expression of disapproval that reminded her too much of his father.

She took a breath. “He didn’t abandon me, Claude. He left because he thought it was best for me.”

“He decided what was best for you?” He sniffed in disdain.

Claude’s father had also decided what was best for her and she’d feared defying him. After all she and Gabriel had been through, though, she could never fear him, no matter what.

She watched the land slowly slipping past. “Why do you want to make Gabriel a villain, Claude? He has done only good for you.”

He rubbed the wood of the boat’s railing and murmured, “He asked the same thing.”

“The same thing?” Her brows rose.

“About why I made him the villain.” He leaned on the railing. “I do not know why,
Maman,
” he answered with defiance. “I have to credit him with saving me and saving Lou—Miss Finch.” He paused. “But his red coat reminds me he is a British soldier and then I remember the red coats who killed Papa.”

“But Gabriel had no part of that. He took us to safety. Do you not remember?”

He pushed away from the railing. “I remember. I remember all of it.” He paused. “Except about him rescuing me at Waterloo. I thought you made up a story about that, but I now believe it was true. Deane has rescued me countless times.” His eyes flashed with emotion. “But that is it, do you not see? He succeeded where my father failed. Where I failed. Time and time again. I know it makes little sense, even to me now, after my time at Rappard Hall.” His eyes took on a faraway look for a moment, before filling with pain again. “I only know I cannot forgive him.”

He stalked away from her.

Emmaline did not move from the deck until the last glimpse of England faded from her sight. Even then, she did not turn towards the Continent, towards Antwerp where the packet would dock, or towards Brussels, a place she had once called home.

Chapter Twenty

G
abe walked back to Stephen’s Hotel, not even seeing the book shops, ironmongers, milliners and tea shops on Bond Street. He’d just come from signing his name to papers that set the course of his future; his brain was still mulling over whether or not he’d made the right decision.

No use in that. His signature made matters final.

He shrugged. He had many regrets in his life. If he regretted what he’d done this day, he could merely add it to the list.

Emmaline was not one of his regrets, however. She had not been far from his thoughts when he had put pen to paper today. How different it would have been if Emmaline could have been at his side. Still, he was not sorry he’d left her. He’d done right by her by leaving. What he did regret was that circumstances made it impossible for him to be with her. That would always be number one on his list of regrets.

Gabe lifted his gaze from the pavement and was surprised to see how near he was to the hotel. He quickened his step.

When he reached the entrance, he prayed the hall would be empty. A few of the men who were here before had found commissions, and others had managed to make advantageous marriages, but there were plenty of men left who would chew his ear off. Bored with their inactivity, they would insist upon knowing all the tedium of his life, and he had no wish to have to dodge questions. He wanted to keep his recent activity to himself.

Gabe entered the hotel and removed his shako and gloves. He threw his gloves inside his hat, as he always did. At least the hall looked empty. Glad of that piece of luck, he started across its length to the stairway.

The footman who attended the lobby suddenly appeared. He dashed to the stairway, pausing when he saw Gabe. “Oh, Captain,” the man cried, out of breath. “Someone to see you. Waiting in the front parlour.” He continued past Gabe up the stairs. “Forgive me. Have to run.”

“Who is it?” Gabe cried, but the man merely waved a frantic hand and pounded up the steps.

Gabe tapped on the banister. So much for his wish to escape any company. He turned and made his way to the parlour door.

Perhaps Allan Landon or Jack Vernon had called. That would be tolerable. He’d sent word to them of his return and had already met with them to fill them in on what had happened with Edwin.

And Emmaline.

As he turned the knob of the parlour door, he had the sensation of being pulled back in time. Entering, he dropped his hat on a table and thought of the day Emmaline had surprised him in this very room.

Just as it had that day, the parlour looked empty. Fresh flowers adorned the mantel and the sound of a swishing skirt came from the high-backed chair facing the fireplace.

Gabe froze.

Emmaline stood before him. “
Bon jour,
Gabriel.”

“Emmaline?” His voice was no more than a whisper.

He’d never thought to see her beautiful face again, her fair skin and blue eyes and the lips he’d dreamed of kissing when sleep eluded him at night.

He recovered himself. There was only one reason she would return here. “Is it Claude?”

She blinked, as if confused, then met his gaze again. “
Non. Non.
Claude has not run away again. That is not why I am here.”

“Why, then?” Whatever it was, he would help her again, he immediately resolved. He knew now that no other choice was possible for him. Let her ask a thousand times. He would always come to her aid.

She glided towards him with that familiar grace. As she neared, the scent of lavender reached him. “I came to speak to you.”

He cocked his head, more puzzled than ever. She did not seem as tense as she had been when she had stood in this same place before. Neither did she seem at ease.

She glanced up at him. “A long time ago, I did not speak up when I should have. I had not the courage. It was a terrible mistake I made then. I made another one when we were together last, by not saying what I needed to say soon enough. You were gone before—” Her voice broke.

She was troubled and he felt the pain of that as if it were his own pain. “What do you mean? Tell me. I will help you in any way I can.”

She smiled and raised her hand to caress his cheek. “My
cher capitaine.
”

He seized her hand, lifting it in a silent question about the gold band with its glittering sapphire that adorned her finger.

“I used to wear it on a chain beneath my dress, Gabriel,” she whispered. “There has never been a day I did not wear your ring.”

He dropped her hand, still puzzled.

She lowered her hand and stepped back, but then looked as if she were steeling herself for combat. “I said I would marry you. I came to tell you that is what I want. I want to marry you.”

His spirits dipped. This smacked of her self-sacrificing bargain again. “Emmaline, I already freed you of that obligation. I do not know how to make it clearer to you. I do not require you to marry me.”

Her eyes widened. “You do not comprehend. I
want
to marry you, if—if you also desire it. That is what I travelled here to tell you. I do not want to be apart from you. I will follow you to wherever the army sends you. I do not care where it is as long as I can be with you.” She gripped his arm. “I came to say this to you. To make sure you know that I say this because I love you. I have loved you since Badajoz when you were so kind to us. I loved you in Brussels, but I was afraid. I am still afraid, but it frightens me more to be without you.”

Gabe felt himself go warm all over, but he dampened his burgeoning hopes. “What of Claude? Surely he will not accept you marrying me.”

Her eyes filled with sadness. “No, he will not. Claude said to me that he will never see me again as long as I am with you.”

Gabe shook his head. “Then, it is no use. I will not be the cause of you losing your son.”

Her fingers tightened on his arm. “You are not the cause. Nor am I. It is Claude who chooses it.”

He looked down at her, seeing her suffering at her son’s declaration. He also saw something else.

Her resolve.

She went on, “You said yourself that Claude is a man now. He must make his decisions and live with them.” A ghost of a smile flitted across her face. “Besides, he said he would still write to me, so that is something. As long as I know he is well and seeking his own happiness instead of revenge, I am content. And who can say? Perhaps he will change his mind after a time.”

Gabe’s hopes glimmered again. Dare he indulge them? “Are you certain, Emmaline? Are you certain you want to marry me?”

“Mais oui,”
she murmured. “More than anything.”

He gathered her in his arms and held her close to him as if he feared loosening his grip would make her flutter away and he would lose her once again. “Emmaline. My love.”

Her voice filled with emotion as he held her. “Gabriel, there is so much I cannot give to you. I cannot give you children. I have no dowry, nothing to bring to a marriage, except my promise to devote myself to you—”

“It does not matter,” he reassured her. “We can be a family, just you and me. And I certainly do not need your money. I need you.”

“Then I will go anywhere with you, Gabriel.” Her voice was firm. “Have you found a commission yet? Tell me where we will go next.”

He released her and held her at arm’s length so he could look into her eyes. He laughed aloud. “I have no commission! Oh, Emmaline. I am not even in the army any more. I sold out completely. Do you mind returning to Lancashire? I have just today purchased the hill farm, the one my uncle manages. We will own the farm. I can take care of my uncle and all the other people whose livelihoods depended on it. We will make it prosper again. Together.”

He drew her to him again, this time lowering his lips on to hers for a kiss that burst forth from the joy in his heart. Beneath the kiss she laughed with happiness, before pressing her lips to his as if never to release them.

When they finally took a breath, Gabe twirled her around, laughing again. When he stopped he gazed at her as if to convince himself that she was real and that this was a dream come true.

He remembered his first glimpse of her amidst the horror of Badajoz, when he’d been alone and her family had been violently torn apart. Something had changed in him that day at the mere sight of her. He was changed still.

But now he understood. She was where he belonged, where he would always belong. He knew it deep in his soul.

He belonged with Emmaline.

He embraced her once more.

They were both home at last.

Epilogue

London—November 1817

I
t was a celebration dinner, but a quiet one. The recent death of Princess Charlotte in childbirth had the whole country in mourning, and London society remained swathed in black. Emmaline and Gabriel had just returned to London for a brief visit.