A Regency Gentleman's Passion: Valiant Soldier, Beautiful Enemy / A Not So Respectable Gentleman?. Diane Gaston

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      If he had enough time.

      But time was a commodity Gabe no longer possessed. Claude’s visit meant the French were near and were not likely to be waiting for the Allied Army and the Prussians to meet them on French soil. If the French were marching into Belgium, the battle was imminent.

      He pulled on his clothing and glanced at Emmaline, looking so beautiful in sleep it took his breath away.

      He understood why soldiers married on the eve of battle. Merely gazing at her made him desire to pledge his fidelity for ever. For the first time, surviving a battle really meant something to him—he wanted to survive to be with her for ever. And if it was his lot to die in battle, as his wife she would receive all his worldly goods. Either way he could provide her with a secure life.

      Gabe picked up his boots and carried them below stairs so his footsteps would not wake her. In the kitchen, he lit the stove and put the kettle on. He made some of the Belgian coffee that he’d become accustomed to. He brought the coffee pot to the dining table. After pouring a cup, he leaned back in the chair, against his coat that still hung there. He reached in to the inside pocket and removed the small velvet box. Opening it, he gazed at the ring, imagining it upon Emmaline’s finger.

      If he did not propose to her this morning, he might not get a second chance.

      He closed his fingers around the velvet box and heard her step on the stairway. He stood and quickly shoved the box in his trouser pocket.

      “You are awake already.” She sounded weary and tense. “I will make you breakfast.”

      “No, sit.” He pulled out her chair. “I will serve you today.”

      “Non, Gabriel, it is for a woman to do.” She took his arm, as if to prevent him from entering the kitchen.

      He faced her, placing his hands at her waist and leaning his forehead against hers. They stood silent that way, Gabriel savouring her scent, her heat, the softness of her skin.

      “Today I will cook for you,” he said again, easing her into her chair, stroking a stray lock of hair off her forehead.

      He walked into the kitchen and cracked the eggs into the pan. He glanced back at her.

      She sat with her elbows on the table, her face in her hands. Thinking of her son, he thought. Worrying over him. Missing him.

      When Gabe had been a boy, returning from visiting his uncle on the farm, he’d sometimes wondered if his family had noticed he’d been gone. It often seemed as if they greeted him the same as they would if he’d been gone an hour.

      He shook his head and attended to the eggs. This was time to think of Emmaline, not himself.

      He poured her coffee and placed her eggs on a plate, adding bread, butter and jam. She looked up as he approached, putting a smile on her face. As he sat opposite her, he felt the ring in his pocket, reminding him of his decision.

      Later, he would ask her, after she finished eating.

      “This is very good.” She looked at him and he could tell she was trying to be cheerful.

      Their conversation was forced, all the ease between them these past weeks gone. They talked mostly of the food, as if they were two strangers seated together at a dinner party. When finished, Gabe gathered the dishes and carried them back into the kitchen.

      Emmaline followed him, putting her palm on his back. “I will tend to the dishes. You have done enough.” She glanced out of the window that looked over a narrow alley. “It is very light outside. I will have to open the shop soon.”

      Gabe thrust his hand in his pocket and closed his fingers around the velvet box. He released it and drew his hand out to touch her on her shoulders. “Come away for a moment.” He led her to the sofa and sat down with her, clasping her hand in his. “I have something to ask you.”

      She met his gaze with interest, but only as much as if he were preparing to ask her what she would like him to purchase for their dinner.

      He glanced down at her hand, imagining the ring on her long, graceful fingers.

      “We have had a short time together,” he began.

      She nodded, her expression turning wary. “You are going to say goodbye to me.”

      He squeezed her hand. “I am going to propose that I never say goodbye to you.”

      Her brows rose.

      “Emmaline, I am asking you to marry me. I want you—want to be with you for ever.”

      She paled. “Marry me?”

      “I know the timing is ill. With Napoleon’s army so near, there must be a battle soon. But maybe we can marry quickly. I will find out the rules, see if it is possible—”

      She pulled her hand away. “We cannot marry!”

      His heart was pounding fast. “Maybe not before the battle, but afterwards, then.”

      She jumped to her feet. “Non, Gabriel. How can I marry you? You are a British soldier.”

      “I can sell my commission. After the battle.”

      Her eyes flashed. “After the battle? Do you think that will make a difference?”

      His face stung as if she’d slapped him. “Have I not shown you in every possible way the sort of man I am? Have we not been happy together?”

      She looked away. “It is not the sort of happiness that can last.”

      “Has it not been, Emmaline?” Gabe rubbed his hand against the outside of his pocket, feeling the box through the cloth. “I have experienced enjoyment that is meant to be fleeting. I know the difference. You cannot pretend this was a mere diversion for you.”

      She could not meet his eye. “Of course I have enjoyed being with you, but I do not want to marry you.”

      He leaned towards her. “Why?”

      She took a breath. “My son despises you—”

      “He does not know me. When the war is over, there will be time—”

      She lifted her hand for him to stop. “The war will never be over for Claude. Do you not see? It will never be settled in his heart. I have tried—” Her voice cracked with emotion. She looked into his eyes. “I am all Claude has. He has lost too much. He has endured too much. I cannot abandon him.”

      “I do not wish you to abandon him. He is a part of you. I want you both.” Gabriel’s insides felt as if they’d turned to stone. He knew even as he spoke the words that he’d lost her, that, if she believed she must choose between them, she must choose her son.

      She lowered her gaze and her long lashes made shadows on her cheeks. “No, Gabriel. I cannot turn away from my son. Not even for you.”

      He felt as if he’d had the breath knocked out of him. His very reason to exist had simply vanished like smoke into thin air.

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