Page 16 of Gabriela and His Grace (The Luna Sisters #3)
Gabby was home.
The thought sent a rush of elation zinging through her blood, and she clutched her reticule to her chest as she spun about and took in the busy docks around her.
Wagons piled high with crates and trunks bumped over the craggy cobblestone roads, dodging pedestrians while food vendors with pushcarts shouted their offerings to the freshly disembarked passengers and sailors.
A malodorous scent crept along the boardwalk but was undercut by the salty breeze sweeping inland from the sea.
What delighted Gabby the most about the commotion was that almost every conversation, every shout, was in Spanish. Or Nahuatl. Or Purépecha or another native language. Closing her eyes, she tilted her head back and allowed the Mexican sun to welcome her back with a warm caress to her face.
“I wish we didn’t have to say goodbye.”
Lucia stood a few feet away, nervously clutching her bag.
Her dark eyes were wide as she scanned the activities around them, and when she looked back at Gabby, there was more than a dose of fear in her gaze.
Without a moment’s hesitation, Gabby stepped forward and wrapped her arms around the other woman.
“I wish we didn’t have to say goodbye, either. I wish you were going with us.” Gabby squeezed Lucia tight. “But if your family proves to be overbearing and tries to marry you off to a man you don’t esteem, I will do everything I can to help.”
“You’ve been very good to me.” Lucia stepped back and smiled, her eyes watery. “If I were to ever have had a sister, I would have wanted her to be like you.”
“That is—” Gabby abruptly pressed her lips together. When she was certain her voice would not break, she said, “That’s one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me.”
Lucia reached for her hand. “It’s true.”
Gabby shook her head. “I know what a good sister is like because I have two of the best sisters in the world. I hope that one day I’m able to introduce you to them.”
“I would like that very much.” Lucia’s eyes traveled to a spot over Gabby’s shoulder. “It appears my carriage is ready.”
Following Lucia’s gaze, Gabby spied Whitfield speaking with an older gentleman in a broad-brimmed straw hat and a younger man in overalls.
The men stood next to the attractive rented carriage Whitfield had procured, and it looked exceedingly more comfortable than the various wagons and hackneys that rumbled down the street.
“It will be a much pleasanter ride in that than it would have been in the conveyance my abuela had instructed my cousin to rent,” Lucia said, relief in her words.
“Your cousin appears relieved at your change of fortune.” Gabby smiled as she took in the man. “The ride to Guanajuato will take several days, so it’s best to be comfortable.”
“We need Mr.Conner and his railway to start laying tracks as soon as possible.” Lucia laughed. “Then we can visit each other more easily.”
Gabby heartily agreed.
The women continued their chatter as they made their way to where Whitfield stood at the carriage with Lucia’s cousin.
Gabby’s skin prickled when she met the duke’s eyes.
They had yet to speak that day, although she knew they would be spending a good deal of time with each other as they traveled to Isabel and Sirius’s home.
The specter of a smile that turned up the corners of his lips gave her hope they could continue their genial accord.
And if Whitfield could greet her graciously—for him, at least—well, she could do the same. As they came to a stop before him, Gabby bobbed a quick curtsy. “Good day, Your Grace.”
One of his black brows winged up, but his glacial eyes sparkled behind his spectacles. “I’m sure it is a good day, Miss Luna, for you’re closer than ever to being reunited with your sister.”
Gabby’s answering grin was crooked, and a bubble of excitement swelled in her chest. “I am more delighted that I can express to see Isabel again. And to see her married. I expect Captain Dawson to be a very good husband to her.”
“Sirius quite lost his head over your sister, so I have no doubt that he dotes on her to an embarrassing degree.” Whitfield watched her over the top of his spectacles when she scoffed.
Eventually he turned his gaze to Lucia. “I’m sorry that we must say goodbye, but I hope your trip to Guanajuato is comfortable. ”
“And thanks to you, it will be,” Lucia proclaimed. Turning to Gabby, her smile faltered. “I will miss you.”
“And I you.” Gabby bussed both of her cheeks before hugging her again.
Gabby stood next to the duke as they watched Lucia’s rented carriage rattle over the cobblestone streets heading west. She was sad to see her friend go, and hoped Lucia was treated kindly by her abuela and family.
“Thank you for organizing a carriage to deliver her,” she whispered, unsure if Whitfield would hear her but suddenly needing to say the words. “That was a very generous thing for you to do, especially since you have no responsibility to Lucia.”
“Of course I have a responsibility to her.” Whitfield made a sharp noise in the back of his throat. “She is a young woman in need of help. What sort of gentleman would I be if I didn’t aid her to the best of my ability?”
What sort of gentleman would he be? Gabby looked up at him, taking in his handsome profile.
The sharp set to his jaw. The long sweep of his lashes.
She was slowly discovering that Whitfield was much more the gentleman than she had ever given him credit for.
The realization made her stomach clench tight.
Stepping back, Gabby fanned her face as she scanned the crowd. In her last letter, Isabel had written that Sirius’s men would meet them on the docks, but she’d yet to see them. Gabby hoped nothing had happened in the last twelve days to change the plans—
The duke let out a bark of laughter as he strode forward through the crowd. Gabby frowned as she watched him, curious what he’d found so amusing when a familiar blond head appeared above the array of people. When Whitfield exchanged a hearty hug with the man, Gabby rushed toward them.
“Captain Dawson!” she cried, most inelegantly. But Gabby was so relieved to see the man she didn’t care. Dashing to him, she pressed two quick kisses to his cheeks in greeting.
“Miss Luna,” he said, whipping his hat from his head and flashing a friendly smile that brightened his angelic face. “Es lindo verte de nuevo.”
Gabby gasped. “Senor, hable espanol muy bueno.” She clapped her hands together. “Estoy impresionada.”
The captain laughed. “Gracias, hermana. I’ve worked hard to learn the language, seeing as how Mexico is my home now. I still struggle with the pronunciations at times, but I try.”
“And trying is what matters.” Gabby’s gaze wandered over his face before fixing on the gold band on his hand.
Sirius seemed different somehow. While he’d always been charming and gregarious, something about him was now lighter.
Happier. The knowledge that life in Mexico, a life with Isabel, made Captain Sirius Dawson happy filled Gabby’s chest with a warm glow. “I trust my sister is well?”
“She is. Isabel wanted to come with me to collect you both, but she was pulled away when a letter arrived from Senora Maza de Juárez.” Reaching into his coat pocket, Sirius withdrew a small wrapped package. “She insisted I give this to you immediately.”
Puckering her brow, Gabby ripped open the packaging and found a brown leather-bound book. With a flick of her thumb, she ruffled the pages and stopped when she spotted Isabel’s familiar script.
Querida,
You’re here! I’m positive I will know the moment you step foot on Mexican soil because my heart will sing. While I wish I was there to greet you myself, please know I will be thinking of you and praying your trip here is a speedy one.
Also, I imagine that you’re nervous about returning. About seeing Mother and Father again. If anyone understands the mixture of emotions you’re probably feeling, it’s me. So please allow me to remind you of a few things I know about Gabriela Elena Luna Valdés:
You are wickedly smart.
You are kind and empathetic.
You are more than your pretty face, and anyone who reduces you to the sum of your outer beauty without celebrating your stunning inner beauty is a fool, and you don’t suffer fools.
Father may never recognize these things about you, hermana, but it doesn’t mean they aren’t true.
You are worthy and deserving of love and every wonderful thing…
but you might have to reach out and grab those things for yourself.
And if you need my help, I will be at your service in a heartbeat.
Whatever happens when you arrive, you won ’ t be alone.
Use this book to record all your ideas, all your observations, and all the wild emotions society dictates we suppress. Fill these pages with every whisper, every outraged cry of your heart…and if you wish to share them with me, I will listen.
Always, Isa
Gabby stared down at the book for a long moment, rapidly blinking back the tears that clouded her vision.
How very much like Isabel to send her such a message.
To remind Gabby of her love, because Isabel, and Ana María, knew best how painful their father’s criticism—or worse, his indifference—could be.
But Isabel’s words were a perfect reminder that the Gabriela Luna who fled Mexico ahead of the advancing French troops was not the Gabriela Luna who was now returning.
“Isabel has missed you very much,” Sirius said quietly.
“And I her,” Gabby managed around the tears in her throat. Which was why she was not upset that the work Isabel did for First Lady Maza de Juárez kept her away.
Pressing her lips together, Gabby looked up and wasn’t surprised to see Whitfield watching her, a soft look on his face. Her throat bobbed as her mind raced with what she should say, or if she should say anything at all.