Page 24 of Gabriela and His Grace (The Luna Sisters #3)

The sound of a throat being cleared whipped Gabby’s head up. Sirius and Whitfield stood awkwardly on the threshold.

“Good afternoon, darling,” Sirius said finally, crossing the room to press a quick kiss to Isabel’s temple.

The duke remained in the doorway, his gaze locked on Gabby. His expression was unreadable, but something about the way he held himself, as if he would be trembling if he weren’t so disciplined, left her on edge. Was he angry?

“Mrs.Dawson,” Whitfield voiced as a greeting, although he held Gabby’s gaze as he pulled out a chair next to her and sat. “Miss Luna.”

“Your Grace.” Fighting the urge to fidget, Gabby wrapped her fingers around her napkin and squeezed it tight.

She had hoped the duke would not ever be privy to her shame. But what made her ears hot and her throat tight was the knowledge that the Earl of Carlisle was Whitfield’s friend. She’d read any number of on-dits about their exploits together.

She could only imagine what the duke must think.

Whitfield didn’t speak for several moments, and only the hum of Isabel and Sirius’s conversation reached Gabby’s ears.

She wasn’t sure what they were saying—their voices mere whispers at the end of a tunnel—but every fiber of Gabby’s being was trained on the man next to her.

Some innate part of her perceived Whitfield’s distress.

His agitation. His emotions didn’t spark fear in her, but they made her restless and uneasy.

The housekeeper appeared in the sunroom at that moment to exchange a word with Isabel and Sirius, and Gabby felt the duke lean toward her.

“Are you well?”

She could pretend his question was one of polite inquiry. Was Gabby well at that moment? Not particularly, but she knew that was not what Whitfield was asking. So she answered him truthfully.

“I am. Now.”

Although Gabby did not emphasize now , he seemed to sense its importance nonetheless.

A manservant placed a glass of lemonade on the table before Whitfield, and she watched from the corner of her eye as he grasped it and took a large gulp. Setting it down with more care than it deserved, the duke scrubbed a napkin across his face.

“And before?”

Gabby fought the urge to nibble her lip. “I was not injured.”

Not physically, although she did her best to leave her mark on the earl.

The situation had angered her more than anything else, for the earl had forced her into a position where her reputation could have been harmed.

The Luna name had been threatened, as had the small slivers of autonomy she’d grasped in England.

Just thinking about the fleeting minute of helplessness she’d felt in the drawing room at the Wright ball made her jaw ache from grinding her teeth together.

“I see.” Whitfield dragged his thumb back and forth through the condensation on the side of the glass. “I saw him at the club before we departed, and he was sporting a green and yellow bruise near his eye. I assume that was from you.”

“It was,” she declared crisply.

“Good girl.”

Inhaling sharply, Gabby shot her gaze up to his. Even behind his spectacles, Whitfield’s eyes were warm. A little of that warmth nestled in her chest, and Gabby’s hands unfurled from around her napkin.

“Tell me,” the duke said after a pause, his voice barely above a whisper. “Would you feel safe returning to London, if that were your wish?”

Gabby snorted just as softly. “Of course.”

Whitfield nodded. “So you did not return to Mexico because you were made to feel uncomfortable or unsafe?”

Now Gabby hesitated. This was not a yes-or-no question, and she bit the inside of her cheek as she contemplated her response. Everything about the duke’s taut frame told her that he was anxious for her answer.

Angling her head toward him, Gabby said, “There’s a difference between uncomfortable and unsafe. I was the first but not the latter.”

“Yet you should never be either.”

A breath stammered in her lungs, and Gabby turned to look at him, her mouth ajar. Whitfield’s arctic irises stared down at her. “I would never presume to think you require protection from anything. Indeed, I’m certain every creature under the sun trembles at the sound of your name.”

“Now’s not the time for flattery,” she murmured, her lips trembling over a smile.

“But if you are ever in need of…” His eyes searched hers. “ Anything , I hope you know that I will help. Without question. Without delay.”

“I know.” Gabby said it without thinking. But it was true. And she wouldn’t take back the words. Lifting her chin, she nodded once. “I know, Your Grace, and I am thankful.”

· · ·

“You didn’t tell me it was Carlisle,” Sebastian snarled the second Sirius shut the door of his study.

Gabriela and Isabel had retired after lunch to the latter’s office to pen letters to their sister and friends in England, and Sirius had all but herded Sebastian into his study.

No doubt because his friend knew he was holding on to his anger by the thinnest of threads.

But now that the women were on the other side of the house, Sebastian was at liberty to set a spark to the tinderbox of emotions inside of him.

“Because I knew it would only upset you.” Sirius grasped a bottle of liquor from the sideboard. Bypassing the snifters, he snatched up two shot glasses. “And I was right. Now take a seat.”

Sebastian did as he was told, but only because he was too enraged to argue with Sirius’s high-handed ways.

Thankfully, his friend slid a shot glass filled with tequila to him, and Sebastian downed it in one bitter gulp.

The liquid burned down his throat and settled in his gut, where it immediately extinguished some of the rage bubbling inside of him.

Feigning a calmness he didn’t feel, Sebastian unbuttoned his coat and leaned back in his chair. “Tell me what happened.”

Sirius propped his hip against the desk. “I don’t know all of the details, and anyway those are for Gabby to share.”

When Sebastian glared at him, his friend held up his hands in surrender.

“What I do know is that Carlisle accosted her as she was walking to the ladies’ retiring room at the Wright ball, and refused to let her leave. She assumed he was waiting for them to be discovered together.”

“Of course he wanted them to be caught.” Sebastian worked his jaw. “How did she escape?”

“From what Isabel has said, Gabby punched him square in the face when he tried to kiss her.” Dawson huffed a chuckle. “Apparently he dropped to the ground immediately, and Gabby fled to the ballroom unscathed.”

“Physically, at least. But I’d imagine such an encounter would leave its own sort of scar,” Sebastian said with a sigh.

And Carlisle had left scars, because Gabriela had practically curled in on herself when she’d realized Sebastian overheard what happened. Like a flower closing its bloom.

At that moment, Sebastian would have happily throttled the earl.

“I can’t believe Fox didn’t tell me.” Sebastian prowled to the sideboard and poured himself another shot of tequila. He welcomed the burn. “He could have let me know at any moment leading up to our departure. Hell, he could have told me when he wished me goodbye on the docks.”

“Why would Fox tell you?” Sebastian pivoted to see Sirius staring at him incredulously. “You and Gabby have been at odds since you first met. It’s possible he didn’t trust you with the information.”

That stung, and Sebastian clamped his teeth together and stared out the window. While it was true that he and Gabriela had traded more barbs than they had polite conversation, he would never want to see her harmed.

Sebastian carefully set his empty glass upon the sideboard before he shattered it against the wall.

“I never would have thought Carlisle capable of such reprehensible behavior. I knew he played deep at the card tables and hadn’t kept a mistress for the last few years, but he was the same arrogant rake he always was. ”

“He’s in debt. From what my men have been able to uncover, he owes a sizable sum of money to various lenders all around London.” Sirius scrubbed his hand down his face. “I can imagine he was growing desperate, and thought the pretty young Mexican heiress would do very nicely as his wife.”

Despite having moved to Mexico, Sirius still kept in regular contact with the men he served with in the Crimean War…men who were adept at surveilling and gathering information should Sirius ever need it.

“The Whitfield dukedom was in a sizable amount of debt, as well you know, but I never schemed to ruin a young lady.” Just imagining the earl touching Gabriela made his head pound.

“Indeed, you did not. But then you’re a gentleman.”

Reclaiming his seat, Sebastian ran a hand over his face. “I’ve tried to be, as of late.”

“I noticed,” Sirius said simply.

Sebastian took a moment to gather his thoughts as he adjusted the fall of his waistcoat.

“After my mother died, I was angry. That she was taken from me so young while my piece-of-shit father continued to run the dukedom into the ground and wreak havoc across England.” He thought of his brothers and ground his teeth together.

“Yet despite my hatred for the man, in many ways, I fear I may have become just like him—”

“No. Do not even think the words,” Sirius declared, his eyes chips of granite.

“So emphatic,” Sebastian murmured around the knot in his throat.

His friend spread his palms. “You may be a prat, a snob, and a rogue, but you’re not cruel, Sebastian. You’ve been a good friend to me.”

“And you to me.” Desperate to return their conversation to lighter topics, Sebastian pounded his fist on the desktop. “I really wish the earl was here now so I could mar his other eye.”

“He would be here if you had shared the investor information with him.” Sirius cocked his head. “Why didn’t you?”

Sebastian crossed his arms over his chest and glanced out the window. “I’m not sure. He just didn’t seem like a good fit for the venture.”

“Your judgment was sound, it seems.” Sirius quirked a brow. “So tell me what you thought of the mine.”

Now this was a topic Sebastian was keen to discuss, and discuss it they did.

For the next hour or two they pored over the notes they’d taken at the board of directors meeting, analyzing the projections for output over the next quarter, as well as expenditures.

Seeing the Camino Rojo mine’s operations in person was worth the trip to Mexico all on its own.

Of course Sebastian trusted Sirius and the information he shared, but observing the extraction-and-cleaning process with his own two eyes had been revealing.

It had also been a relief, because it was clear that the operators had organized the production in an efficient manner that took advantage of the landscape but didn’t exploit it.

And because the Camino Rojo mine was within an hour’s ride of San Luis Potosí, the men who worked there had reliable housing available to them and their families, as well as a thriving community that was not dependent upon the mine but certainly benefited from it.

Sebastian’s experience with the dukedom had taught him that content, well-paid workers were a sign of a healthy enterprise.

“When we were departing, Senor Ortiz mentioned a dinner party he’s hosting. Is that tonight?” Sebastian asked.

Sirius nodded. “His villa is not far from Mr.and Mrs.Luna’s home. They will be in attendance, as well.”

“I see.” Sebastian searched his memory for a connection between Ortiz and the Lunas, but could not recall one. He asked Sirius about it.

“Ortiz has financially supported Juárez and members of the cabinet throughout the occupation,” Sirius said. “Mr.Luna has a talent for winning the favor of men with money and power.”

“I have no doubt about that.” A new thought occurred to Sebastian, and he chuckled. “Miss Luna must have inherited that skill from him.”

Sirius’s mouth quirked. “I think you may be right, for Gabby certainly knows how to win admirers.”

“She would make a fine diplomat.” Sebastian tapped a finger against his lips. “As long as her admirers didn’t try to take advantage of her beauty and charm.”

“It’s a good thing, then, that she has family and friends who are determined to protect her, should she need it,” Sirius responded, giving Sebastian a pointed look.

At any other time, Sebastian would have pushed back on Sirius’s unspoken assertion. However, he couldn’t drum up the indignation, for Sebastian was pleased to be considered her friend.

Gabriela could certainly take care of herself, but it didn’t mean she should always have to.