Page 3 of Gabriela and His Grace (The Luna Sisters #3)
Gabby stood on the deck of the ship, her gaze fixed on the rapidly disappearing shoreline.
If she squinted her eyes, she could just barely make out Ana María holding Estella, her arm raised in farewell.
Gabby’s eyes burned with unshed tears, and she curled her hands into fists to keep them at bay. She’d cried enough for one day.
So much about life felt like a long series of goodbyes.
First she’d said goodbye to her mother when they fled Mexico, then when Isabel returned home without her.
Now to Ana María. Whether Gabby returned to London or stayed in Mexico, she was destined to say goodbye to someone, and that harsh truth was a sharp knot in her throat.
Which made her angry. Gabby despised being vulnerable.
Hated crying, for she’d long ago learned that her tears were useless.
But she especially hated crying now that she knew the Duke of Whitfield would witness her pain.
Oh, he had quietly boarded the ship after exchanging goodbyes with her family, and had not lingered on the deck to observe her as she clung to her niece and plied Estella with kisses and whispered words of love.
The duke had not seen how Gabby held tightly to Ana María as her sister said a prayer for her safety and happiness.
Had not heard Lady Yardley confess, in a broken voice, that she would miss her.
No, the Duke of Whitfield had given Gabby her space to mourn this parting, but just knowing he was close unnerved her.
He had unnerved her from the moment she’d met him…
which had always confused her, because the duke had never frightened her.
Yet being in his presence had always left Gabby feeling decidedly on guard.
And with so much about her reception in Mexico unknown, Gabby already had more than enough to worry about.
“The water is so much bluer than I was expecting.”
Gabby swiveled her head, the tension dissipating when her gaze met Miss Moreno’s. The young woman’s cheeks were flushed from the wind, but there was a sparkle in her amber eyes. While Gabby’s emotions were in tumult, Miss Moreno—Lucia—appeared happy. Excited, even.
Forcing her thoughts back to the other woman’s remark, Gabby finally said, “London has so grievously polluted its waters, it’s easy to believe the ocean is supposed to be a dank grayish brown.
But I assure you that the sea is composed of the loveliest blues and greens in the world.
You’ll see the variations best when we reach the Caribbean. ”
“I look forward to it.” A smile stretched across Lucia’s lips. “I confess, this is my first time traveling outside of England, and I am both elated and scared to see more of the world.”
“Such a conflicting mixture of emotions I can understand.” Gabby quirked her head. “Your parents emigrated to London from Mexico some years back?”
The other woman nodded. “Almost thirty years ago. I was born in London, although my parents spoke of Guanajuato so much, I feel as if I know it, too.”
“Is that where you will be traveling to when we land?”
“Sí. Mi abuela todavia vive en la Guanajuato.” Lucia looked out on the choppy waters of the bay. “We’ve never met in person, so I hope she is as agreeable as she comes across in her letters.”
“For your sake, I hope so, too.” When Lucia laughed, Gabby smiled. “What made you decide to visit now?”
“My father remarried.” Lucia’s pleasant expression faltered. “My mother died five years ago, and it had been just the two of us ever since. Until three months ago, that is. When he met Mrs.Grayson.”
Although Lucia’s tone was guarded, Gabby could detect a whole cache of hurt in her words. She could only imagine what sort of circumstances had forced Lucia to flee the only home she’d ever known for a land she’d never visited.
“I’m certain welcoming a new person into your home after so long had been very difficult.”
“It was time for me to venture out.” Lucia clasped her hands together, her chin tilting up. “I’m well past the age my mother was when she met and married my father, and she would have wanted to see me settled. And as I’ve yet to find a man I could envision as my husband in England…”
“It is a bachelor wasteland,” Gabby declared, chuckling when Lucia laughed outright.
“Perhaps I will have better luck in Mexico.” Lucia sighed, her eyes wistful on the horizon. “Or perhaps I will find purpose in caring for my grandmother. I like feeling useful, and recently I’ve felt like a burden.”
Useful. It was a word Gabby had never heard used to describe herself, and she longed for there to be a reason to.
Ana María had found a purpose collaborating with Gideon on his work as a member of Parliament.
And Isabel had saved President Juárez’s life and now worked for the First Lady of Mexico to aid rebel soldiers and their families in the fight against the French.
Meanwhile, Gabby had languished in one boring ballroom after the other, the pretty Luna sister but nothing more.
She prayed, with all of her heart, that returning home to Mexico would give her a sense of purpose, just like Lucia.
Gabby laid a hand on the other woman’s arm. “I think it is quite brave of you to travel to Mexico on your own when you’re unsure of what to expect when you arrive.”
Lucia pivoted, a dark brow raised. “I’ve heard I can say the same of you.”
“Perhaps.” Her mouth went dry. “At least my older sister, Isabel, knows I’m coming.”
“Do you think your parents will be upset?” Lucia asked, her eyes wide.
Gabby shrugged, while her gut roiled. “Knowing my father, most definitely.”
Movement from the corner of her eye caught her attention, and Gabby turned with a scowl to see the Duke of Whitfield on the other end of the deck, conversing with the ship’s captain. Of course he would seek out the most powerful man on the ship, Gabby thought disdainfully.
“My word, Senorita Luna, that’s quite the scowl.” Lucia clicked her tongue. “Your sister said you were not fond of the duke, but I suppose I didn’t realize how much until just now.”
“Sí, bien.” She paused, biting her cheek. “He is…not my favorite person.”
“It would seem not.” The young woman studied the duke askance. “I wonder why you hold him in such low regard.”
Shuffling on her feet, Gabby risked a glance in the duke’s direction, her frown deepening to see him now laughing along with a group of sailors. “I will tell you if only to caution you to avoid him as much as you can.”
When Lucia nodded, Gabby held up her hand, ticking off her fingers.
“Whitfield’s presumptuous, vain, and arrogant.
He believes himself to be the smartest person in any room he steps into and must always have the last word.
He’s a rake of the highest order, and his list of paramours could probably circle London twice. ”
“Now that last part does not surprise me,” Lucia said, angling her chin to observe the duke and the group of men he stood within. “He’s quite handsome.”
“I suppose so,” Gabby agreed reluctantly.
It would be a lie to deny that the Duke of Whitfield was attractive.
Even if one ignored his rich dark hair and striking arctic eyes, his broad shoulders always seemed to be in danger of splitting the seams of his dress coats.
She’d often noted how he prowled through a crowded ballroom, a bud of resentment blooming across her skin as she took in his easy feline grace.
Gabby hated that she noticed the handsome figure the duke cut, but she was never one to lose her head over a pretty face.
She’d maneuvered through elevated social circles long enough to know that a comely appearance hid all manner of sins.
“So the Duke of Whitfield is a libertine who would take advantage of a young woman on her own,” Lucia said, clasping her hands together.
“No.” Gabby was surprised by her own sharp tone. Ignoring the other woman’s cocked head, she continued. “Whitfield would never prey upon a defenseless young woman.”
Lucia frowned. “I don’t understand. If he’s all the awful things you said, surely my reputation, if not more, would be endangered by him.”
Gabby pressed her tongue to the back of her teeth, wavering on whether to concede the point.
But no, it wasn’t fair. “While he’s not someone I would engage with, it doesn’t mean that Whitfield is dangerous.
I’m certain Gideon would not have entrusted us to Whitfield’s care if he wasn’t convinced of the duke’s honor. ”
She knew that to the depths of her soul. Whitfield was a scoundrel, but he was an honorable one…of sorts. Yet despite knowing the duke would never harm her, Gabby would never trust the man. There was just something about him and his piercing blue eyes that sparked every one of her defenses.
Rather than explain this, Gabby spread her palms. “You must decide for yourself how you intend to interact with the Duke of Whitfield. If at all. I merely wanted to share what I knew of his reputation, but I don’t think those things make him a threat to your safety and well-being.”
Lucia flashed a bemused smile. “I don’t know, Senorita Luna, a handsome face paired with an arrogant confidence has always been a danger to young women.”
Gabby glanced in Whitfield’s direction, somehow unsurprised to meet his gaze. He held hers for only a heartbeat, then dipped his head politely and looked away.
“Not all young women,” she murmured, a smirk settling on her lips. “Oh, not all of us.”