Page 19 of Gabriela and His Grace (The Luna Sisters #3)
Gabby sat side by side with her sister, their hands clasped, in the cozy bedchamber that would be her home for the foreseeable future.
The lone window looked out upon a pink trumpet tree ablaze with bright magenta- and rose-colored blossoms, and Gabby spied bees buzzing about its blossoms. Neither of them spoke, and Gabby was thankful for the silence.
It allowed her to breathe in Isabel’s familiar vanilla scent and soak in the bright warmth of her presence.
Like a hothouse plant that had suffered through the dreariness of winter, Gabby could practically feel herself bloom now that she’d been reunited with her sister.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” Isabel whispered, swiping her thumb over Gabby’s knuckles. “I know it’s going on two years since we’ve seen each other, but it’s felt like ten.”
“Twenty!” Gabby countered, resting her head on her sister’s shoulder.
Isabel laughed. “But you’re here now. Although I’m sorry it took the crass actions of a vile nobleman to force your hand.”
A long sigh fluttered Gabby’s lips. “I was such a fool. Lord Carlisle always seemed harmless enough, but I should have known better. I’d heard the rumors of his insolvency, so I should have been wary when he began paying me more attention.”
“It’s not your fault, querida.” Isabel gripped her hand tighter. “I only wish I had been there to see the wrath Gideon brought down upon the man. Sirius said his anger was palpable even in writing.”
“Gideon’s anger was nothing compared to Ana’s.” Gabby snorted. “I’m certain she would have marched to the earl’s townhome with a torch to demand blood…if she could have found a torch.”
“I can’t say I’m surprised. Ay Dios, how I miss her.” Isabel moved back until Gabby met her gaze. “How is she? Tell me about the baby.”
Gabby was only too happy to talk about their older sister Ana María and the happy life she lived with her husband and daughter.
Gabby showed her sister the photographs Ana María had so carefully packed, and put an arm around Isabel as she cooed over the baby niece she’d yet to meet.
Gabby squeezed her tight when Isabel shed several tears.
Eventually, the conversation turned toward Isabel’s days in San Luis Potosí, and every word her sister used to describe the life she’d built with Sirius was infused with satisfaction.
Isabel’s dark eyes sparkled as she spoke of decorating their new home and combining her library with Sirius’s.
She also described her work with the First Lady of Mexico, and Gabby asked a plethora of questions about the current political atmosphere, curious if her ideas on how to aid the resistance would work.
Gabby wanted to contribute…she just wasn’t sure exactly how.
Abruptly, Isabel turned about to face her directly, her eyes wide. “So, you and the duke appear to have reached an understanding.”
Gabby scowled. “Why do you say that?”
“Because you’re both here and haven’t bickered with each other once,” Isabel replied, her lips quirked.
Gabby’s scowl deepened, although she wasn’t sure why. Hadn’t Whitfield proven himself to be thoughtful? Attentive? Amusing company? Did she really want to share those new insights with Isabel?
Dropping her gaze to the counterpane, Gabby lifted a shoulder. “Perhaps away from London and the crush of society, Whitfield isn’t as bad as I’ve always believed him to be.”
To Gabby’s relief, her older sister merely arched a brow before changing the subject, and Gabby was thankful.
The following day, Gabby found herself seated next to her sister as they left the parish church where Isabel and Sirius attended Mass. Her fingers were tangled in the skirts of her cotton day dress to keep them from shaking—
“I would tell you to stop fidgeting, but I understand why you’re nervous.”
Gabby’s shoulders drooped, and she forced herself to untangle her fists from her skirts.
Just thinking about seeing her parents again after four long years away made her heart pound and her palms clammy.
She almost wished Isabel and Sirius attended services at the Catedral de San Luis Potosí, where her parents did, so their reunion could be done before God and all his saints, because Gabby knew her father would not dare to be anything but gracious to her if he knew there were onlookers.
It was bad enough that their reunion would be witnessed by Whitfield.
Gabby knew she was being unfair to him. The duke had wished her a good morning at the breakfast table and then silently sat through Mass and the ride to her parents’.
He’d done nothing to antagonize her, aside from being his handsome, aloof self.
Yet those glacial eyes of his missed nothing, and Gabby knew he was aware of her growing discomfort.
She wanted to be angry at his presence, but she couldn’t drum up the emotion.
Since they had left Altamira, Whitfield had given her as much privacy as their narrow confines allowed, yet he’d still been there, his shadow eclipsing everything in the vicinity.
No doubt he was wondering who this timid miss was that had abruptly replaced the fearless Gabriela Luna she had worked hard to be.
Gabby glanced across the carriage at him now, not surprised to meet his gaze. Whitfield held her stare for only a heartbeat, and then he nodded and returned his eyes to the window.
Knowing he was paying attention, however, made Gabby straighten her spine. Her heart might be churning away like a locomotive down the track, but she was not about to lose a grip on her sensibilities. Not for her father, and certainly not for the Duke of Whitfield.
“Is there anything I should know before we arrive?” Gabby asked, relieved that her voice did not shake.
Isabel’s lips pursed, and she looked to Sirius, who sat across from her.
“Father has been in one meeting or another as el presidente and the generals strategize how to defeat Maximilian and the remaining monarchists. Mother has said that he leaves early in the morning and returns late at night. The only time I’ve seen him myself is when we visit on Sundays. ”
Gabby couldn’t say she was surprised. She’d long thought her father’s work for Presidente Juárez was his true love. Elías Luna had never willingly sacrificed time away from his career for his family, and Gabby would have been shocked if he’d suddenly learned to do so now.
“Who is usually in attendance for lunch on Sundays?” Whitfield asked, and Gabby worked not to jump at the sound of his voice.
“It’s only been family.” Isabel ticked off her fingers. “Our father’s brothers, Tíos Xavier, Diego, and Angel. Our mother’s sister, Tía Susana, and her husband, Tío Ernesto. Fernando Ramírez attended last week with Senora Romero.”
“Really?” A grin stretched Gabby’s lips taut. “I’m surprised Mother was willing to welcome Senora Romero.”
Fernando Ramírez had at one time been engaged to their eldest sister, Ana María, but the engagement was broken when she married Gideon instead.
Gabby did not feel sorry for Senor Ramírez—their arrangement had been a political one negotiated by her father.
And despite the engagement, Senor Ramírez continued to carry on his longtime affair with Senora Romero.
It had been a slight on Ana María, as far as Gabby was concerned, and her opinion of the man had never recovered.
Isabel and Sirius laughed in unison. “She is not terribly fond of the woman,” Isabel said, “but Mother is too well bred to object. Plus, you know she would never contradict Father.”
Now it was Gabby’s turn to laugh. “María Elena Valdés de Luna contradict her husband? No!”
“Some things never change, querida,” Isabel said, a sad look fluttering across her face. “Even when we want them to.”
Mashing her lips together, Gabby glanced away. Senora María Elena adored her children, but she loved her husband more, and Gabby knew better than to expect differently.
Silence settled on the carriage again, and Gabby leaned back on the squab, determined to steal the last moments of peace that she could before her world was tipped upside down.
Sucking a great breath of air into her lungs, she inhaled and chanced another look at Whitfield, finding him considering her with a face devoid of expression.
Gabby bristled nevertheless, resentful that the duke was witness to their sorry family dynamics. “We’ve given you plenty to sneer about, haven’t we, Your Grace, with our rather crude peek of the inner workings of the Luna family.”
“Not at all. Family dynamics are often messy. And nonsensical.” Whitfield plucked his spectacles from his face and then extracted a handkerchief from his coat pocket.
He held her gaze while he cleaned the lenses.
“In truth, I wish my mother was still here for me to complain about. Certainly she would have found plenty of things to criticize me for.”
Oh. Whitfield’s bald honesty took Gabby by surprise, and she struggled with how to respond.
“We are both lucky to escape the imagined censure of our mothers,” Sirius said, his expression a mixture of understanding and amusement.
A smile flashed across the duke’s face. “Indeed. But rest assured, I, too, had a father who seemed to take particular delight in pointing out and mocking my many flaws. Nothing I might encounter while dining with your family will shock me more than what I have experienced at the hands of my own.”
Gabby opened her mouth to respond—with what, she didn’t know—and abruptly closed it with an audible click. Whitfield hadn’t said anything condescending, rude, or even mocking; rather, he had been empathetic. Gracious, even.
“Let us hope that everyone is on their best behavior, and Gabby’s homecoming is met with all the excitement and relief it deserves.
” Isabel’s voice was firm, and when she twined her fingers with Gabby’s, she squeezed them tight.
“And I am certain our parents will be delighted to meet you, Your Grace.”