Page 23 of Gabriela and His Grace (The Luna Sisters #3)

“How did you learn about this place?” Gabby asked, pushing the carriage curtain aside to look out at the nondescript adobe building that resided near the edge of San Luis Potosí.

“Senora Maza de Juárez.” Isabel slid kid gloves over her hands and grasped her reticule. “You know part of my work for her is creating a network of physicians, nurses, and clinics that are available to assist Liberal soldiers and their families. This is one such clinic.”

While Isabel had mentioned in her letters that her duties required her to work with the families of soldiers, Gabby had not considered what that entailed. Her interest was piqued.

“Do you have business here today?” she asked, adjusting the fit of her hat.

“I don’t,” Isabel answered, whispering her thanks to the footman as he helped her from the conveyance.

Glancing back at Gabby, she cocked a brow.

“I thought you might be interested in visiting. You’ve written many times about your women’s club and how you and its members were lobbying for not only the rights of women, but for greater access to the sort of care and support that would help women lead fuller, more independent lives. ”

Unsure of what to say, Gabby nodded and scrambled out of the carriage after her. She grasped Isabel’s arm as her sister came to a stop in front of the wooden door.

“If you decide to stay in Mexico—”

“Why wouldn’t I stay in Mexico?” Gabby demanded, her hand tightening on Isabel’s arm.

Her sister huffed a breath, her expression a combination of exasperation and affection.

“I don’t want to assume I know the plans you have for yourself, querida.

Perhaps returning home will help you to realize you feel more yourself in London.

Or, as I’m hoping, by introducing you to the staff at this clinic, you discover that the work which brought you a sense of purpose can also be done here in Mexico. ”

“Oh,” Gabby whispered. Isabel knew her so well, and yet it still caught Gabby unawares to be understood so deeply. Her older sisters were the only people to ever truly know the Gabby who dwelled deep within her heart. The Gabby she still wrestled to understand herself.

Releasing a long breath, Gabby dropped her hand from Isabel’s arm and squared her shoulders. “I look forward to learning more.”

Isabel’s lips tipped up ever so slightly, and she knocked on the door.

They were ushered inside a surprisingly large room that opened into an atrium.

Large, narrow windows lined one end of the room, and beyond them was a lush garden filled with various flowering shrubs, succulents, and vines.

Gabby spotted several benches and even a swing affixed to a pinon tree, where several children took turns pushing one another.

Bordering all sides of the garden were archways, some containing glass windows and some not.

“What a calming space,” she murmured, watching the children play.

“That was our goal,” Doctora Jimenez said, coming to stand next to Gabby.

Isabel had introduced her several moments prior as the head midwife and nurse at the clinic.

Isabel explained that the older woman was called a doctor because had women been allowed to attend medical school in Mexico, Doctora Jimenez would have been one of the first graduates.

“Senora Dawson was instrumental in the clinic’s construction and design. ”

Gabby turned to gape at her sister. “Why didn’t you tell me you were so intricately involved? You led me to believe you were simply creating a list of clinics that provided this kind of care.”

Isabel waved a hand as she walked to a window, peering outside. “Sirius and I have our own charitable ventures, and this clinic began as one of them.”

“Faith, Isa.” Gabby stared at her sister with wide eyes. “I’m in awe of you.”

“There’s no reason to be. I’m not the one doing all the hard work.

” Isabel gestured to Doctora Jimenez with her chin.

“Most of the patients are women and children. Many of whom are mestizos who do not have the sort of access to quality care that our criollo or peninsular neighbors do. It’s a disparity we wished to address, even if only in this small way. ”

“Small way?” Gabby spun about in a circle. “It wouldn’t be small if like-minded Mexicans invested in such clinics across the country. Can you imagine the impact an enterprise like that could have?”

Isabel and Doctora Jimenez exchanged a look. “Actually we can.”

Gabby chuckled. “Of course you can.” Turning to the older woman, she inclined her head toward the atrium. “Would you mind giving me a tour of the facility, doctora?”

Doctora Jimenez smiled. “It would be my pleasure, Senorita Luna.”

An hour later, Gabby and Isabel sat side by side in the carriage, deep in discussion about the visit to the medical clinic.

“What sort of plans have you and Doctora Jimenez’s team discussed?

” Gabby inquired, excitement creeping along her skin.

When was the last time she was this zealous for anything?

Maybe when her women’s group had organized in earnest a suffrage effort and had begun collecting signatures for a parliamentary petition for women’s right to vote.

Gabby had known that if such an act were passed she would be excluded, as she was not a British citizen, but the effort needed to start somewhere.

And if it were successful in England, Gabby could take that success and what she learned from it, and bring it to Mexico…

“Our main focus is to expand the clinic itself. We would like to add more examination rooms, a dedicated room for surgeries and procedures. Contamination is a concern, you know?” Isabel said, tapping the back of Gabby’s hand.

“Plus, we need a constant flow of new supplies, for there are many things we cannot reuse despite what some supposed medical experts say.”

The way Isabel’s lip curled surprised a bark of laughter from Gabby. “Are these medical experts men?”

“Your question doesn’t require an answer because you already know.” Isabel glanced outside. “We’re almost home. I’ll explain more of our plans over lunch. How does that sound?”

Bumping a shoulder into Isabel’s, Gabby grinned. “That sounds marvelous.”

The sisters dined in the bright sunroom at Casa Inglesa and discussed the clinic and Isabel’s work over a meal of tortillas and beans with salsa and sliced avocado. Gabby sighed happily. Reaching for her glass of horchata de arroz, she sipped a mouthful and savored the sweet flavor.

“I haven’t had this since well before we fled to England,” she said, studying the flecks of cinnamon that drifted about the creamy liquid. “It’s just as refreshing as I remembered.”

“When Sirius and I wed and set up our household, finding a cook was one of my first priorities.” Isabel reached for a sweet-potato-and-chorizo empanada and placed it on the plate in front of her.

“Mother helped me sort through the candidates, and I’m quite pleased with Senora Montez and her cooking.

She was even willing to move with us to San Luis Potosí, and we are so grateful.

Sirius has said he doesn’t know how he survived so long without Mexican cooking. ”

“I don’t know how I survived this long, either,” Gabby quipped, taking another sip of horchata.

“Speaking of Mother,” Isabel began, “how was your visit with her yesterday?”

The sweet taste on Gabby’s tongue abruptly turned bitter.

Her shoulders fell as she placed her glass on the tabletop.

Of all people, Isabel understood the complicated relationship Gabby had with their mother.

As the youngest, Gabby was a reminder to her father that she was not the son he long desired.

Then her mother would send her away, as if by not seeing Gabby, she’d be able to erase her inability to birth her husband’s heir.

Worst still, their father often pitted Gabby and her sisters against one another in some sort of macabre competition for his approval, so she didn’t have Isabel or Ana María to turn to for support until they’d arrived in England.

Therefore, much of her childhood was spent alone in her room or wandering the grounds of the villa.

Expelling a breath, Gabby said, “It went well, I suppose.”

Isabel raised her brows. “Just well?”

“You know how Mother is.” Gabby picked at a crack in the table with her fingernail. “She wanted to know about life in London. The parties I attended and the people I’ve met. Tío Arturo. Did I fall ill on the voyage because I’m too flaca?”

“Ay,” Isabel grumbled with a roll of her eyes. “She asked the same of me.”

“She wanted to know more about Estella, and for me to describe Ana María and Gideon’s home,” Gabby continued.

“Mother was very interested in how many rooms they had. And how large their staff is.”

It was Gabby’s turn to roll her eyes. “Naturally.”

“Did she ask you about your suitors? She asked me all about Lord Westhope until Sirius arrived,” Isabel said, a fond curve to her lips.

“I’m to blame for her knowing about Lord Westhope.

He was so kind, and I was thrilled he was enamored of you.

” Gabby feigned a wince. But truly the viscount had been infatuated with her sister, and had Isabel not been in love with Sirius, it was possible she would now be a viscountess.

“But I should have kept that information to myself.”

“Don’t apologize, querida. Mother just wants us all to marry and have babies,” Isabel said with a snort.

“Which is why she asked about Lord Carlisle’s proposal.”

All the humor bled from her sister’s face. Isabel slowly dusted off her hands with a napkin and gently set it on the table next to her half-eaten empanada. “I didn’t realize she knew about the earl.”

Gabby shrugged, glancing away. “I’m guessing Ana told her.”

“Did Ana also tell her that the earl’s proposal constituted him accosting you in the drawing room at the Wright ball in hopes of forcing you into marriage?” Isabel bit out around her teeth.