Page 51 of Gabriela and His Grace (The Luna Sisters #3)
Something was wrong.
Gabby couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but something was definitely amiss at Whitfield Manor.
It was little things, like how Mrs.Evers or the maids would block her from wandering outside during certain hours of the day with silly excuses about the weather or some other such nonsense.
Why she wouldn’t be permitted to take a turn about the garden after lunchtime Gabby didn’t know, but short of barreling through the housekeeper, who planted herself in the doorway, Gabby acquiesced.
There was also the time she’d found Mrs.Evers and Roberts in the foyer talking in hushed voices, and they had jumped in surprised unison when they spotted her.
Stranger still was when she inquired after Sebastian, and they had blurted out different answers, with Roberts claiming he was inspecting the construction on the east wing and Mrs.Evers simultaneously saying he had gone to visit some of the home farms. It had taken every bit of good manners Gabby possessed not to call out their duplicity, and instead she had thanked them through gritted teeth.
The real person Gabby knew she should be angry with was her husband, but ay Dios, Sebastian made it difficult, for when he was with her, he made her the sole focus of his attention. Yet their time together was limited.
After a shared breakfast, Sebastian departed to tend to any number of tasks around the estate.
Some days he helped the masons who labored on the restoration of the east wing, while other times he was found in the nearby village, meeting with fellow landowners regarding improvements to the roads, as well as expanding the local train station.
On one particular day, Gabby found him holed up in his study with a team of architects and engineers reviewing blueprints for continued renovations to the manor house.
When he’d seen her lingering in the hallway, Sebastian had invited her to join them, where he’d painstakingly reviewed the plans with her and encouraged her to make suggestions.
Gabby was touched to have been included…
and yet she was still unsettled, because there continued to be large pockets of time when her husband was unaccounted for.
Every night, though, when Sebastian met her in the dining room for dinner, he had eyes only for her.
He asked about her day, her opinions of the people she met, and the work she did.
Sebastian encouraged her to speak in Spanish, and Gabby relished the intimacy of their conversations.
When their meal was over, he escorted her to the drawing room, where Sebastian sat by her side on the worn damask sofa and listened to her read.
Sometimes she shared news from the paper, news he’d no doubt already read himself, or nuggets of information regarding Maximilian’s impending execution she’d received in letters from her sisters.
He’d laughed when she’d told him that Lucia had written, her letter expressing well-wishes for their marriage and claiming she knew all along there was something special between Sebastian and her.
Ever an instigator, he also picked arguments with her over the most ridiculous things, a fact that initially annoyed her…
until she realized how much fun it was to bicker good-naturedly with him.
Her fondness for it was further solidified when Sebastian revealed he did it specifically because he liked it when she put him in his place.
So, too, did Gabby quickly learn that if Sebastian had a place for her, it was in his bed.
Every night and often in the early mornings, her husband made love to her.
Passionately. Creatively. Desperately. Sebastian had a talent for making her giggle with laughter one moment and then cry out his name the next.
Gabby relished his touch, desired his good opinion, and coveted his attention…
which was why she was so aware of how distracted he was at times.
And it wasn’t just concerns for the dukedom that were his focus, for already the profits Sebastian had made from the Camino Rojo mine, as well as the added cushion of her dowry, were evident in the projects being undertaken around the estate and beyond.
Yet still, there was an inattentive edge to Gabby’s new husband she couldn’t decipher.
So when she spied Brodie stepping into a side passage as she was departing Sebastian’s empty study, Gabby thought that perhaps he could help her, for surely the valet would know what the duke was about.
“Brodie,” she called, smothering a laugh when the Scotsman’s shoulders visibly stiffened.
“Yer Grace,” he murmured as he slowly pivoted to face her. “How may I assist you?”
“You may assist me by telling me where my husband is.”
The Scotsman grinned. “Yer husband, aye?”
Mortified, Gabby could feel her face grow warm. “It still feels odd to say.”
“I reckon you’ll get used to it if you do it more. Take His Grace, for example. He has no problem talking about his wife this and his duchess that.” Brodie rolled his eyes. “You would think yer name is his wife .”
Gabby rocked back on her heels as she was encased in a warm glow. The fact that Sebastian, the former rake of all rakes, would be so proud to proclaim her his wife delighted her.
So why, then, did it feel as if some part of him held her at a distance?
Clearing her throat, Gabby raised her brows at the Scotsman. “Where is he?”
“I don’t rightly know,” Brodie said, his voice all calm assurance. Gabby would have believed him if she didn’t spy how the tips of his ears turned pink.
Frustration clenched her teeth tight, and Gabby spun on her heel without another word.
“Yer Grace,” Brodie called, “I’m sure he’s tending to work around here somewhere.”
Gabby waved her arm in acknowledgment, but did not stop.
Once she reached her chamber, she flipped the tumbler and prowled to the window.
Aside from the gardener working on trimming the hedgerows, and a scattering of laborers hauling lumber from a wagon to the construction on the east wing, Gabby spied no one else.
Where had Sebastian gone, and why did everyone else seem to know what he was up to but her?
Releasing an agitated sigh, she sank onto the chair in front of her vanity and stared at her reflection in the mirror.
Her familiar hazel eyes stared back at her, hard and unflinching.
Gabby was reminded of her mother. Of how she used to crave María Elena’s embrace…
and now she couldn’t bring herself to open the letter she’d received from her on the eve of her wedding.
Gabby refused to let whatever disappointments and scolds her mother had penned disrupt the happy accord she had found with Sebastian.
But happiness was not what she felt in that moment, and Gabby fought the urge to curl up on the bed and weep out her confusion.
Instead, she pulled out the last letter to arrive from Isabel.
It was filled with all the giddy encouragement Gabby had needed when the gossip before her wedding had become almost unbearable.
Isabel’s elegant script had written of her and Sirius’s enthusiasm for her union with Sebastian, and her sister’s firm belief that the duke would be a good husband.
It had been a stance supported by Sirius, who had written his own short note to reiterate that Sebastian was the most honorable, steadfast friend he’d ever had, and he would treat Gabby with all the respect and regard she deserved.
And hadn’t Sebastian done just that? Despite the gnawing sense he was keeping secrets from her, Gabby had no real proof her husband was doing any such thing. In truth, Sebastian showed her day after day how happy he was to call her his wife.
So shouldn’t that be enough?
An hour later, Gabby rose from a fitful nap and padded downstairs, clutching the note that had been left on her side table.
It was from Sebastian, inviting her to tour the progress of the east wing renovations with him.
Reading her husband’s neat penmanship had been a balm, and she approached his study door with a smile on her face.
That was until male voices met her ears.
One was Sebastian, but she didn’t recognize the second.
Unsure if she should knock, she glanced inside the room to find her husband in conversation with a younger man with deep red hair.
“David has trouble attending. He’s distracted by—”
“I hope not by James,” Sebastian interjected, pushing his spectacles up his nose.
The red-haired man shook his head. “No. James follows rules to a fault—”
“Ella,” Sebastian called, his gaze colliding with hers before it darted to the man across the desk from him. “Let us continue this discussion another time.”
“Of course, Your Grace,” the man said, jumping to his feet. His dark eyes met Gabby’s for only a passing moment. “Excuse me, Your Grace.”
Gabby watched him leave, her curiosity sparking. “Who was that?”
“That’s Simon,” Sebastian said succinctly. He stood and slipped his hands into his pockets. “Did you get my note?”
She blinked at the change of subject, but she held up the slip of paper. “I did. I’d be happy to accompany you. And…” She paused, glancing down at the floor. “Thank you for inviting me.”
The room was silent for a tense moment, but when Gabby looked up, Sebastian was staring at her with a soft look in his blue eyes. “I’m sorry I haven’t been able to invite you to more things.”
“So am I,” she murmured, turning toward the door. “Shall I meet you in the foyer in thirty minutes?”
He nodded. “I look forward to it, Ella.”