Valiant Soldier, Beautiful Enemy (25 page)

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 perfect 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.”

“It is not my place,” he responded. What could he wish her to know? That he was French? That he detested her country and its emphasis on class and status? That he’d sworn to kill for revenge?

She turned around and he was touched by the melancholy look on her face. “We cannot really be friends, can we?”

“Non.”
For all those reasons.

What would she think of him if she knew he now had a plan to confront and kill Tranville under the very roof where she slept?

He must carry out this plan soon.

After this halcyon morning spent with Louisa, he realised he should not remain at Rappard Hall many more days. He did not know how much longer he could resist asking even more of Louisa. The attachment between them grew stronger with every hour they shared.

Would she despise him after he killed Tranville?

How could she not? That thought pained him as surely as if it were he who felt the stiletto’s sharp point.

Louisa glanced back to the vista below, Rappard Hall and its farm buildings.

“I dread returning,” she said.

“Your cousin. His guests. I wish I could make them be civil to you.” It offended his manhood that they should say things to her that a respectable young woman should not hear. He had no power, however, as a mere stable worker, to come to her defence.

“I will avoid them.” She glanced back at him with a smile. “They cannot be rude to me if I stay out of their way.”

As they descended the hill, they could see a small carriage drawn by one horse at the door of Rappard Hall.

Louisa shaded her eyes with her hand. “I wonder who that is. It looks like a man in uniform.”

A man walked around the carriage. He wore a British officer’s red coat and sash.

Claude’s nerves went on alert. What was a British officer doing out here?

Louisa laughed. “I hope he has come to chase my cousin and his friends away.”

Claude squinted into the sun. The officer climbed into a small carriage and disappeared behind the carriage’s hood. He could see no more than the man’s hands holding the ribbons. The carriage started off.

“He is leaving!” Louisa cried in a worried tone. “I should have been there to receive him. One never knows how George will deal with matters of importance.”

Claude’s brow furrowed. The officer could not be looking for him, could he?
Non,
it was impossible. No one in England knew of him. His mother was the only one who knew his plans and certainly she would reveal them to no one.

Even so, the red-coated officer felt like a bad omen, a sign he must no longer tarry.

As they entered the paddocks behind the stable, Claude gazed at Louisa, memorising this image of her, seated so expertly upon her horse. Her back was straight, her waist narrow, and a peek of brown curls were visible beneath her hat.

She turned to glance at him and smiled once more.

Perhaps that was what he would remember the best. Her lovely lips curved into a smile that lit up her eyes and put dimples in her cheeks. Perhaps on lonely nights he would remember that once a lovely English girl had smiled when she looked upon him.

He averted his gaze, following instead the small carriage that made its way down the path to the road. He scanned the farm, thinking how well tended it was, how kind Mr Sellars and the other grooms had been to him, how thrilled he was to have cared for and ridden such beautiful horses.

He patted Apollo on the neck and the horse bobbed his head in pleasure.

Apollo would be the third horse he’d come to love and the third horse he’d endure losing. His father’s horse. His own Coco. Now Apollo.

But even that paled in comparison to losing Louisa.

Gabe turned the gig on to the road back to the hill farm.

“What a stupid man,” Emmaline exclaimed. “Vile and stupid and stinking of spirits.”

“Indeed.” Gabe wondered something else, as well. Edwin looked more ill than drunk.

Emmaline shifted in her seat. “He should not have said those awful things to you about gentlemen.
He
is not a gentleman!”

He turned to her. “He was never a man of good character. If he had been, he would never have done what he did to you and Claude.”

“Ha!” She pulled at her gloves. “I did worse to him. Every day in the mirror he must look at what I did to him.”

Her anger was much more welcome to Gabe than her despair. Soon the fact that he’d failed her would again plunge her into desolation. Finding Edwin had accomplished nothing, after all.

Except they might discover that Claude was near. If they could find Claude and reason with him, Emmaline’s wish might come true at last.

She put her hand on his arm. “Do you think he tells the truth that he does not recall what happened?”

He frowned. “He was very drunk that day, much worse than usual. It is possible he has no memory of it.”

“It is unfair.” She gazed out at the road ahead. “Claude and I must always remember it.”

And I must remember as well,
thought Gabe.

She grew silent and he knew her mind was filled with thoughts of her son.

He cleared his throat. “Let us stay the night with my uncle. Tomorrow you must rest. I will go to the nearby villages and enquire about Claude. If he is close, someone will know it. Someone will remember him.”