Free Valiant Soldier, Beautiful Enemy by Diane Gaston

best for her son. She would not do so again.
    Or Claude might be lost for ever.
    Gabriel, his back still to her, buttoned his coat, his scarlet uniform coat, the coat he would wear in the battle when the Allied forces met Napoleon’s army, when this man who had given her so much happiness would face her son, who knew nothing of what it was to fight in a battle.
    Men died in battle.
    For the thousandth time she prayed that God would spare Claude’s life. She prayed for Gabriel, as well.
    Even though she would never see him again.
    He walked to the door without looking at her. Her legs trembled and the room seemed to close in on her.
    He opened the door, but turned to her. “Goodbye, Emmaline.” His voice was so soft she could hardly hear him.
    A moment later he was gone.
    Wanting to sink to the floor in a miserable heap, Emmaline instead forced herself to square her shoulders, to tackle the chores that needed finishing before she opened the shop. She started for the kitchen to wash the dishes, but something on the dining table caught her eye.
    A small black-velvet box.

    Chapter Five
    G abe made his way back to his hotel as if wearing blinders, noticing no one and nothing, not even the weather. On previous mornings, he’d savoured this same walk, enjoying all the sights and sounds, savouring the fresh morning air. This morning his mind was as mechanical as an automaton, turning it over and over that Emmaline was lost to him.
    Back in his room at the Hôtel de Flandre Gabe shaved and changed. He would regain control of his emotions, he told himself. There were plenty of women in the world besides Emmaline, women with whom to share brief moments of pleasure. It would be enough. No longer would he dream of a home, a wife, a family. He would remain in the army where he belonged.
    Conjuring up visions of another life had been a momentary lapse of sanity.
    As a soldier he had one duty now. For Emmaline he had compromised that duty, delaying the report that the French were near, but he would delay no longer.
    Gabe went straight to the Allied Army headquarters. As he entered the white-stone building, the two men he least desired to encounter walked towards him: Edwin Tranville, the man who’d tried to rape Emmaline, and his father, General Lord Tranville. The general had managed to inherit a title since Gabe had last seen him.
    “What are you doing here, Deane?” the general barked. As a greeting, it was one of Tranville’s most cordial. His son, whose face bore a scar from his temple to his mouth, created by Emmaline’s knife, did not even bother to acknowledge him.
    “Sir.” Gabe bowed to the general, a respect the man did not deserve. “I need to see Wellington or one of his aides-de-camp.”
    “You?” Tranville’s brows rose. “What reason could you possibly have to see the Duke or his aides?”
    If Tranville had not been Gabe’s superior officer, he would not have replied. “The French army has crossed into Belgium.”
    Tranville frowned. “How can you know that? What evidence do you have?”
    “I encountered a French soldier in the city last night.” This was wasting Gabe’s time.
    Tranville’s eyes narrowed. “Encountered? Where?”
    Gabe glanced from the general to his son, who was now leaning against the wall, as if needing it to keep him upright. How much did Edwin remember about that night in Badajoz? Gabe wondered. Had he told his father about it?
    No matter what, Gabe refused to lead them to Emmaline. “I saw him on the street.”
    Tranville laughed. “On the street? Not having a casual stroll through the Parc? Do not be a damned fool. If you saw anything at all, it was probably a Dutch infantryman.”
    “I did not mistake the uniform. The man was not desiring to be seen and why would a Dutch infantryman be trying to hide?”
    Why did he even bother arguing with Tranville? Gabe did not care if Tranville believed him or not. “In any event, I feel it is my duty to report it.”
    Tranville’s