Page 14 of Gabriela and His Grace (The Luna Sisters #3)
It was a very odd thing for Gabby to encounter Whitfield and not immediately feel her hackles rise.
But so it was, even now, as she watched him chat with several gentlemen across the first-class deck.
Ever since their hopscotch match and their luncheon afterward, she and the duke had seemed to come to an unspoken agreement that they would avoid each other.
Because it was obvious Whitfield was avoiding her.
He went out of his way to walk on the opposite side of the deck and sat for meals either before she did or well after he knew she would.
Gabby appreciated his circumspection because she wasn’t exactly keen to interact with him, either.
Not because he’d been rude to her or even because he was a bore; neither was true.
If Gabby were honest, Whitfield was a diverting conversationalist, and she’d enjoyed his company of late.
And that was the thing; Gabby did not want to like the duke.
He was a depraved rake, and she refused to think of him in any other manner, even if she was beginning to realize there was more to the man beneath his arrogant facade.
So she forbade herself to think of him…which meant she needed to avoid him. If Whitfield learned she was softening to him, he would be insufferable. More so than he already was.
Gabby clung to this thought as she covertly tracked Whitfield’s movements while she walked next to Lucia, doing her best to attend to her friend’s chatter.
“—and Mrs.Sanderson mentioned that she’d be happy to ask their driver to deliver me to my abuela’s house because they would be heading in that direction anyway.
I told her it was incredibly kind of her to offer, but the Duke of Whitfield had already offered to procure a private carriage and outriders for me and José when we docked. ”
Stumbling to a halt, Gabby whipped her head about to look at Lucia. “Whitfield is renting you a private carriage?”
Her friend slowly nodded, a divot between her brows. “He is. We shared an early morning walk yesterday, and he offered when he learned I was nervous about traveling to Guanajuato with only my cousin.”
“You walked with the duke?” Gabby asked, frowning outright.
“Did I not tell you?” Lucia cocked her head to the side. “We chatted for at least a half hour. I can’t tell you how relieved I am that he offered to assist me, and before I could even ask.”
Gabby dropped Lucia’s gaze to stare at the horizon. An odd mix of emotions churned in her chest, and she swallowed the knot that abruptly lodged in her throat. “That was kind of him.”
And it was. Not just for Whitfield to come to Lucia’s aid, but to engage her in friendly conversation. Yet why did the knowledge that Lucia and the duke spent time together, without her, leave her clenching her teeth until her jaw hurt?
“Have I said something to upset you?”
Shaking her head, Gabby flashed her friend a smile. “No. I’m just surprised you spent time alone with the duke.”
Lucia scoffed. “Well, we weren’t really alone, were we? There were several other passengers on the deck when Whitfield and I chatted, and truthfully, I would not at all be surprised if the duke sought my company because Mrs.Attmore had been chattering his ear off about her daughter.”
“There’s nothing mothers of unmarried daughters desire more than a bachelor duke,” Gabby grumbled.
“Especially when he’s charming. And has stunning blue eyes,” Lucia said, with a laugh.
“Stunning?” Gabby rolled her own eyes. “I wouldn’t call them stunning.”
Lucia tapped Gabby’s skirts with her parasol. “That’s because you don’t like him.”
“That’s not true,” she responded, more sharply than she had intended. Pressing her lips together, Gabby paused before she said, “My dislike for him may have lessened over the course of this trip.”
Her friend stared at her, laughter in her gaze. “Even though he beat you at hopscotch?”
“I assure you I’m quite over it.”
And she was…for the most part.
“Well, it seems that if the duke returned any aversion toward you, it may have lessened, as well,” Lucia said, walking away at a leisurely pace.
Gabby hastened after her. “What do you mean?”
“What I mean is that Whitfield mentioned that he learned a good deal about the current political climate in Mexico from you.” Lucia lifted a shoulder. “He seemed impressed with your nuanced perspective.”
“Oh,” Gabby whispered, turning her chin away.
She’d impressed Whitfield? Gabby had certainly never sought the duke’s good opinion, but she couldn’t deny that her chest felt tight at the thought she may have earned his respect.
Because whatever Gabby thought of the Duke of Whitfield, she knew earning his esteem was not easily done. They were alike in that way.
“Have you put away your quills?”
Blinking, Gabby met Lucia’s amused gaze. “Qué?”
Lucia smiled as she moved away a step. “You bristled like a porcupine. I’ve noticed that your initial response to new information tends to be a defensive one. As if you aren’t sure if it’s a threat or not.”
Gabby scowled…but it melted from her face when Lucia winged up her brows, as if to say, See?
With a sigh, she pinched the bridge of her nose and counted to five.
Lucia wasn’t wrong. Almost by default, her natural response was to be wary of new people and observations, using her smiles as a shield.
It took her time to lower her guard, which was why most of her interactions, and even friendships, were surface level.
Gabby had no desire to share her true self with every miss, rake, and gentleman she met.
“Yes, well. I’ve been trying to be better about that.” She paused, a new thought striking her. “How do you know about porcupines? I didn’t think there were any in Britain.”
“There are not,” Lucia conceded with a chuckle. “But my father used to call my mother his beloved puercoespín, because like you, she was of a fiery temperament.”
“That’s sweet.” Gabby smiled. “Did your mother appreciate the sentiment, though?”
“She did.” Lucia’s gaze turned wistful. “They truly loved each other.”
Gabby thought of her own parents, who so often argued.
She’d always believed her father was the dictator in the relationship because of his more vocal and arrogant manner, but with maturity, Gabby now realized the ways her mother manipulated her father to get what she wanted.
What would her childhood have been like if they were loving, attentive parents, like Lucia’s? How would her life be different now?
It took her a moment to clear her throat. “I’m glad you have those happy memories of them together.”
“Me, too. Remembering the love and respect they shared for each other has convinced me that finding such happiness in marriage is possible.” Lucia grinned, the deep dimple in her right cheek flashing. “If not necessarily probable.”
“Do you wish to marry?” Gabby asked, resuming their walk.
She saw Lucia nod from the corner of her eye. “Of course. Aren’t all Mexican women, and even British women for that matter, taught that finding a husband and becoming a mother is their one goal in life?”
“Oh definitely.” Gabby swayed her shoulder into Lucia’s. “Marriage has always seemed like an inevitability, but it’s never been something I desired.”
“Truly?” Lucia turned to look at her as they walked. When Gabby nodded, she laughed in turn. “I suppose I’m not surprised. Now that I know you better. You don’t strike me as the kind of woman to allow a man to tell her what to do.”
“Indeed, I’m not.” And yet hadn’t she done just that with her father? Gabby shoved aside that thought. “I like the idea of a partnership between spouses. Ones like my sisters share with their husbands. Did you know that Gideon actively includes Ana in his work in Parliament?”
Lucia shook her head. “Everything I’ve read about them in the papers or seen with my own eyes says there is a good deal of love and respect between them.”
There was. Seeing her eldest sister so happy, and her brother-in-law so infatuated with her, brought Gabby a joy she didn’t think possible. And if Isabel’s letters were any indication, her marriage to Sirius was just as happy. And yet…
“I’m thrilled that Ana and Gideon share such love, but what if they didn’t?
What if he was authoritative or, God forbid, abusive?
What recourse would Ana have? As her husband, Gideon owns her.
He owns her body, he owns any wealth she brought to the marriage, he owns any child she delivers.
Under the law, she has no control over her future, and I find that terrifying. ”
And Gabby was not being dramatic. Society, and thus the laws enacted within it, were not created to give women a voice.
To give them power. Quite the opposite, in fact, and that knowledge infuriated her.
Gabby hated that at some point in the future, whether she wanted to or not, she would have to choose between masters: her father or the nameless, faceless man who would one day be her husband.
“The older I become, the more I realize what a perilous existence it is to be a woman.” Lucia sighed, and wrapped her arm around Gabby’s. Pressing close to her side, she whispered, “That’s why it’s important to have friends to help make the way forward less unpleasant.”
“I agree.” Gabby squeezed her arm. She had her sisters and now Lucia. She was rich in friends, and so very grateful.
· · ·
“It looks like you swallowed your tobacco instead of spitting it out.”
Smothering a sigh, Sebastian turned away from the porcelain bowl he was washing his hands in and accepted the towel Brodie extended to him. “You know I don’t chew tobacco. Foul habit.”
The valet waved away his response. “It looks like you swallowed a mouthful of gin when you were expecting brandy. Better?” he asked, cocking his brow.
“Quite.” Sebastian wandered from the dressing room to the bedroom, his eyes drifting along the trunks Brodie was packing. “I can’t believe we dock in Altamira tomorrow.”