LITMIR.BIZ

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appeared to be a joyful reunion, so Emmaline was happy for Gabriel. She just hoped it would also mean they would find the cousin who could lead them to Edwin Tranville.

      Gabriel’s friend glanced at her with a curious expression and Gabriel seemed to belatedly remember her presence.

      He took her arm and presented her. “Allan, this is Madame Mableau.”

      Allan looked even more curious. “Madame.” He bowed.

      “Do you not recognise her?” Gabriel asked.

      Emmaline’s brows rose. Was she supposed to know this man?

      Allan shook his head.

      Gabriel darted a glance towards the butler before turning back to his friend and speaking in a low voice. “She is the woman from Badajoz.” He turned to her. “Emmaline, this is Captain Allan Landon. He was there.”

      She gasped. In Badajoz. He must have been the one who carried Edwin Tranville away. “Captain Landon.”

      The Captain’s eyes widened. “Madame! My God. I hope you are well—” He examined her again. “But you must be well. You look so lovely. Why are you here?”

      “I fear we are in the wrong house.” She wanted to find Edwin Tranville’s cousin, but Gabriel was so happy to see his friend. If she knew the correct house, she would call upon the cousin alone.

      Gabriel explained. “We thought this the residence of Miss Marian Pallant.”

      Landon looked even more puzzled. “It is, but—” He tapped his forehead. “Forgive me. Let us sit. Have refreshment.”

      “I’ll tend to it, Captain,” Reilly said.

      Landon offered Emmaline his arm and led them to a drawing room, a comfortable room, with upholstered sofas and chairs of the best brocade. Porcelain figurines, a matched set of a shepherd and shepherdess, decorated the mantelpiece. They might have come from the finest china shop in Brussels.

      “Please sit,” Landon said, leading her to a sofa. Gabriel remained standing.

      She did not want to sit or have refreshment. “Please. Is Miss Pallant here? It is urgent that we speak to her.”

      “Urgent?” Landon frowned. “What is this about?”

      She turned to Gabriel. “How much may we tell him?”

      Landon stiffened. “By God, you will tell me all of it if it involves my wife.”

      “Your wife?” Gabriel blinked.

      Landon fixed his gaze on him. “I am married to Marian Pallant.”

      “The heiress.” Gabriel nodded. “Yes. They said at the Home Office you had married an heiress.”

      Landon folded his arms across his chest. “Why were you at the Home Office and why was my wife being discussed there?”

      “Do not tell him.” Emmaline rose. “Perhaps we cannot trust him.”

      Gabriel put his hand on her arm. “Allan, we are looking for Edwin. His valet sent us here.”

      Landon’s eyes narrowed, his expression angry. “Edwin.” He looked at Emmaline. “Why do you wish to see Edwin? After what he did—”

      Gabriel answered, “We are attempting to prevent a wrong. Emmaline’s son has vowed to revenge himself on Edwin and we are trying to intervene.”

      Emmaline held her breath, carefully examining Landon’s expression to see if he would act as friend or foe.

      “God knows Edwin deserves it.” Allan expelled a breath. “I presume you spoke to his valet at the Albany. Edwin was not there?”

      “Out of town, apparently,” Gabriel responded. “We were hoping his cousin—” he smiled “—your wife would know where he had gone.”

      “Is she here?” Emmaline broke in. “May we speak to her?”

      Landon looked at her with kindness. “She is not here.”

      Emmaline averted her gaze, disappointed tears stinging her eyes.

      “Madame.” Landon’s voice was soothing. “She will return later this day.”

      There was a knock on the parlour door and the butler entered with a tray with a carafe, glasses and tea things. “Brought both, Captain,” Reilly said. He bowed out.

      “Sit, now,” Landon said. “Gabe, I suspect you would rather have the brandy.”

      “Indeed.”

      Landon told them about meeting his wife during the battle of Waterloo and again when the war was over. They’d been married only a few weeks. “I cannot say if Marian knows Edwin’s whereabouts or not.”

      They all fell into silence; Emmaline sipped her tea while the men drank brandy.

      Alan drained his glass and set it on the table. “I have an idea, but I need time to work on it. You both must come for dinner tonight at eight.”

      “Your wife will not mind?” Emmaline asked.

      “Not at all.” His expression turned proud. “She is an exceptional woman. She will assist you if she can.” He smiled. “And she will enjoy having you as our guests for dinner.”

      Enjoy it? Emmaline could not imagine that a lord’s niece who owned such grand things would enjoy dining with a shop girl. There was no égalité in England, it was said. But, then, the English did not use the guillotine; that was to their credit.

      The rope, however, could be equally as lethal.

      When she and Gabriel left and were seated in another hackney coach, she asked him, “Are you certain I should attend the dinner?”

      He looked puzzled. “Why would you not?”

      “I work in a lace shop.”

      He shrugged. “What does that matter? This is about locating Edwin’s whereabouts.”

      She sighed. He did not understand.

      He walked her to the door of her hotel. “I will have a coach here at seven-thirty.” He bowed and walked away.

      

      Emmaline descended the stairs and entered the hall of her hotel just as the clock sounded quarter past seven. If she had stayed one more minute in her room, she’d have perished from nerves. Once more she looked down at her dress and smoothed the skirt. Ladies dressed formally for dinner, she’d heard, but she had nothing like that to wear. Except for the dress she’d worn while travelling, Emmaline only had one more dress that Gabriel had not seen, a rather plain walking dress, but it was a pretty deep-rose colour. She’d quickly embellished the neckline with a lace ruff and added a peek of lace at the cuffs. She hoped it would be enough.

      Gabriel was already waiting and stared at her as she crossed the hall to meet him at the door.

      “Is my dress acceptable?” she asked him.

      “Yes.” His gaze flicked over her again. “It is acceptable.” His voice was rough.

      His reaction did not much relieve her mind.

      A hackney coach waited on the street and Gabriel escorted her to it. The sky was still light and the evening as fine as ones they had shared in Brussels, but his company, much as she desired it, lowered her spirits.

      As he assisted her into the coach, she set her chin. She must accept these difficult and confusing feelings about Gabriel for Claude’s sake. And she must remain hopeful. This night she would meet Edwin Tranville’s cousin and they would discover where to find him. Once Tranville was warned, they could work on finding Claude.

      Claude would give up this foolish plan of vengeance for her. He must!

      Her

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