Page 48 of Gabriela and His Grace (The Luna Sisters #3)
The Duke and Duchess of Whitfield departed for Gloucestershire in the early afternoon.
Sebastian glanced across the train compartment at Gabriela now, warmth spreading through his limbs.
She was his wife. They had exchanged vows within St. George’s church before half the ton, all of them desirous to see the youngest Luna sister set aside her animosity for the Duke of Whitfield and marry him.
Despite the crowds that watched them pledge their lives to each other, Sebastian had found it hard to look away from Gabriela.
She wore a silk gown of sky blue that sat off her shoulders and flattered the gold tones of her skin.
With a simple crown of white roses in her mahogany hair and a bouquet of white roses in her hands, she’d taken his breath away. And she’d yet to give it back…
After the wedding breakfast at Yardley House, Gabriela had changed into a stylish traveling ensemble for their trip to Whitfield Manor, and they said their goodbyes to their friends.
His wife clung to her sister and plied her niece with a plethora of kisses.
Even as he escorted her to the carriage and assured her they would be in Gloucestershire only for the summer, Gabriela sniffled and blinked back tears.
He hated seeing her so distraught, and had channeled his anxiety by ensuring she was comfortable during every stage of the trip, from the carriage ride to the train station.
Now they sat ensconced in his private train car, and a heavy silence hung in the air between them.
Sebastian knew Gabriela was experiencing a flurry of emotions over the rushed state of their “courtship” and marriage, and he tried to be understanding of that.
The cacophony that began after Lady Ambrose had seen them together on the docks exploded after their engagement announcement appeared in the papers, and the attention had been exhausting.
The gossip rags were intent on dissecting every aspect of their relationship, from their public squabbles and Gabriela’s very obvious loathing of him, to their present “love match.” The use of the term had made Sebastian cringe.
While he could admit, if only to himself, that every fiber of his being had fallen in love with Gabriela Luna, Sebastian was not ready to confess it.
Not when the state of Gabriela’s feelings remained so uncertain.
Which was why he still had not broached the subject of his brothers. Sebastian could be vulnerable with his heart…but he refused to be vulnerable with theirs.
Still, this didn’t stop Sebastian from expressing his emotions in other ways.
Like when he’d cornered the Earl of Carlisle at their club one afternoon, and warned the man, through gritted teeth, what would happen to him if he looked in Gabriela’s direction again.
Thankfully Carlisle was wise enough to heed Sebastian’s warning, and the man departed for an extended trip to the Continent soon after.
He hoped the earl’s absence brought his new wife a sense of peace.
Sebastian studied Gabriela now as she gazed out the window at the passing countryside.
In her hand she clutched a letter from her parents.
Sebastian had asked her what it said, imagining the sort of recriminations he knew Senor Luna— his now father-in-law—capable of.
But Gabriela confessed she hadn’t opened it yet, and he wondered at her hesitancy.
Still, even in her melancholy, she was so damn alive, and at that moment, Sebastian wished he could give her a reason to smile.
Unsure of what to say, he crossed one leg over the other and blurted, “That color of blue is stunning on you.”
Gabriela glanced down at her traveling ensemble, which matched the dreamy blue color of her wedding dress. Her gloved hand ran along the folds of her skirt. “Thank you. I adore it.” She met his stare. “It reminds me of the color of your eyes.”
His jaw went slack, and Sebastian paused for several long seconds. “It does?”
She nodded, an amused smirk on her lips. “As soon as I saw it, I knew that I would marry you in this color.”
Sebastian’s throat grew dry, for he didn’t know what to say.
Gabriela had been withdrawn in the wake of his proposal, and he had assumed she was feeling overwhelmed.
She had gone through so much over the past few months, and to suddenly find herself marrying the man whom she once disliked so forcefully must have left her flummoxed.
But as one week melded into the next and their wedding day loomed, Sebastian began to wonder if Gabriela regretted her decision to marry him.
Perhaps any kind regard she’d developed for him had been swept away in the rush of public scrutiny and gossip, especially as Gabby had tried so hard to avoid marriage in the first place.
For Sebastian knew there had been some among the ton who believed she had trapped him.
That the lively and tempestuous Mexican heiress had secured the hand of the only eligible duke in the kingdom—a man she had openly detested—was a feat some refused to believe.
A misconception they clung to even as Sebastian yoked his life to hers.
How could a woman, especially a woman of Gabriela’s fierce pride and closely guarded independence, not be regretful that their marriage had been foisted upon her?
Yet staring into her eyes now, Sebastian thought that maybe he’d been incorrect.
Without a word, he rose to his feet and joined her on the curved-arm sofa, pulling her into his arms. Grasping Gabriela’s chin, Sebastian tipped it up so he could meet her gaze.
“We’ll only be at Whitfield Manor for a couple of months,” he whispered. “I want to be in London for the start of Parliament.”
“You do?” she said, blinking.
He counted the freckles on her nose. “I’ve been thinking about what you said that night we dined with the Conners. About how I should use my privilege to do more for others. And, well, I’d like to try.”
“Sebastian,” Gabriela whispered, threading her fingers through his. “Eso es increíble.”
His mouth quirked. “It’s going to be awful. You know how I despise talking to people.”
“You poor man.” Gabriela turned his hand to kiss his palm. “Will you survive it?”
“With Fox’s help, perhaps. And then only if you attend all those dry, banal events with me.” Sebastian smiled when she chuckled.
“I know of several causes you can champion,” she said archly.
Sebastian groaned. “I’m sure you do. But…” He paused, licking his lips. “There’s another reason I’m intent on returning to London in the fall.”
Gabriela cocked her head.
“Your ladies’ club is there.” Sebastian lifted a shoulder. “I thought you might want to continue the work you did with them. Or perhaps even do something different.”
“Oh, I would.” Her mouth gaped. “You would let me continue to work with them?”
His brow dropped low. “If I didn’t, would you do so anyway?”
“Por supuesto. The new Duchess of Whitfield is a mexicana, and I fully intend to use my title to do some good.” Gabby snorted. “Surely you don’t believe I would let you tell me what to do.”
“It would be a fruitless, frustrating effort, and we both know I’m much too lazy for all that.
” Sebastian tapped the tip of her nose. He wouldn’t dream of clipping Ella’s wings…
but he hoped to give her plenty of reasons to consider him home.
“But I will ask that you have a care with your safety. I would hate for—”
“I will be careful,” she whispered. Her eyes abruptly filled with tears. “Thank you, Sebastian.”
He kissed away a tear. “I didn’t mean to make you cry. I just know it’s important for you to find your place, and I want to make that search easier.”
“Thank you.” Gabriela expelled a shuddering breath. “It’s been a trying few weeks, and I’ve been out of sorts.”
“Understandable.” Sebastian brushed a loose curl from her cheek. “The gossip was…difficult.”
“Difficult?” Gabriela chuckled. “I think you’re being generous, carino. It was atrocious. Everyone seemed determined to remind me of our past interactions. I already remember all the reasons why I thought you were a scoundrel, and certainly didn’t need anyone to remind me of them.”
Sebastian sniffed. “Darling, I thought we agreed that I wasn’t a scoundrel so much as unfailingly charming.”
“?Qué?” Gabriela’s eyes went wide as she stared up at him, mirth and fire melding in their hazel depths. “Unfailingly charming? Surely you mean unfailingly egotistical?”
Pulling back, Sebastian scowled. “You wound me, Ella. And on the very first day of our marriage.”
She snorted. “You’ll recover, I’m sure.”
Stroking a thumb across her bottom lip, Sebastian pitched his voice low. “And will you help me recover?”
A flush swept up Gabriela’s throat, and her tongue peeked out to lick her bottom lip. “I suppose I have to since I’m your wife.”
“Damn right you are,” he snarled before he crashed his mouth down on hers.
It felt as if stars had been born and died in the time since Sebastian had last tasted Gabriela.
Since he’d felt her under his hands. Until that moment, he didn’t realize how much he’d missed her.
Not just the satisfaction he experienced having her in his arms, but the simple joy of being the sole focus of her attention.
The blazing warmth of her smiles. The jolt of lightning that was her laugh.
Biting back a moan, Sebastian looped his arm around her back and hauled her onto his lap, cursing against her lips when her skirts amassed between them.
“Shhh,” Gabriela murmured, pressing a quick kiss to his mouth before standing.
She fidgeted with her underskirts, eventually stepping free of her crinolette and petticoat.
With a saucy grin, Gabriela straddled his lap, and he sucked in a breath to discover the only things separating them were her drawers and his trousers.
But Sebastian could swear he felt the heat of her core through the garments.