Page 53 of Gabriela and His Grace (The Luna Sisters #3)

Sebastian’s to-do list for the day was extensive, yet when Simon, the boys’ tutor, sent a note that James and David wanted to show him the progress they had made learning their multiplication tables, he could hardly refuse.

Which was how Sebastian found himself in the nursery, his two excited brothers rapidly reciting times tables simultaneously. It was a noisy affair, and Sebastian was not sure he properly heard one boy over the other, but he smiled and nodded just the same.

After their showcase, a maid delivered a lunch tray, and Sebastian and the boys enjoyed a meal of cold roasted chicken, cheeses, tart apricots, and thick slices of bread.

He felt more relaxed, more carefree visiting James and David than he had in a long while, and only because Gabriela was visiting the rectory in the village to take lunch with the vicar and his wife.

When he learned the couple was interested in organizing a health clinic for their parishioners and the residents of the village, he’d thought Gabriela might be interested in the endeavor.

Sebastian knew she had been corresponding with her sisters about arranging such a clinic in London similar to the one she’d visited in San Luis Potosí, and he’d been right, for Gabriela had responded eagerly to the suggestion.

So for once, Sebastian didn’t have to worry about the boys being too loud and calling attention to themselves. Mrs.Evers had told him that Gabriela had overheard the boys laughing in the attic and had wanted to investigate. Knowing how close they had been to being discovered made his stomach drop.

Which in turn made guilt flame hot in his throat.

He loved his wife and wanted her to know the boys; he’d come to believe Gabriela would adore James and David and would not hold their parentage against them.

But the omission had grown in proportion, with every person at Whitfield Manor helping him to keep the secret, and Sebastian was at a loss for how to rectify it.

Because despite his best efforts, his regret was beginning to sour his relationship with his bride.

Sebastian could sense it in the guarded nature of Gabriela’s gaze.

In the brittleness of her smile. In the way her lips pinched when he kissed her goodbye at the breakfast table.

So Sebastian clung to her, showering her with attention whenever the day’s events brought them back together.

If he were at leave, he would spend every day with Gabriela in bed, chasing one orgasm after another.

Sebastian longed to learn every thought in her head, and tease smiles onto her lips until she rolled her eyes in exasperation.

Adoration seemed such an inadequate word to describe the fiery rush of emotions Sebastian felt whenever she stepped into the room.

Yet his responsibilities to the estate and his brothers were never-ending, and try as he might, Sebastian was pulled in multiple directions at once.

The crux, though, was that he knew Gabriela was not upset about his dedication to the manor or the people who worked there.

She was pulling away because she knew he was keeping something from her.

That something—or rather those someones were currently making animal noises as they finished their lunch.

Sebastian watched them, his throat tight.

Finding the boys had filled him with a sense of purpose, a need to breathe life back into Whitfield Manor again.

Yet it wasn’t until Gabriela had arrived as the new Duchess of Whitfield, with her generous heart, no-nonsense demeanor, and tart tongue, that the old manor house had begun to feel like home again.

Sebastian hadn’t realized how little he laughed or smiled until Gabriela gave him a reason to do so.

And he’d taken the sparkle from her eyes…

“We saw the duchess yesterday,” David said suddenly, around a mouthful of apricot.

He went still, watching as James scowled, reaching out to smack his brother’s arm. “Lud, Davey, we agreed not to say anything.”

The younger boy ducked his head. “I forgot,” he mumbled.

Turning to James, Sebastian frowned. “Why wouldn’t you tell me you saw Gabriela?”

“Because she was crying,” David interjected.

Ignoring how his stomach sank, Sebastian returned to James. His brother cringed. “It’s true. We were coming back from fishing at the lake when we saw her in the garden. On that bench under the wisteria arbor. You know the one.”

Sebastian nodded.

James dropped his gaze to the tabletop. “We hid as soon as we saw her, but not before we saw her wiping her cheeks.”

“And her eyes were all red,” David added, most unhelpfully. “Did you do something to make her cry?”

Stealing a moment to pluck his spectacles from his face and massage the bridge of his nose, Sebastian willed the fire scouring inside his ribs to subside. “There are some…things I haven’t told her yet.”

“Why not?” James asked, his gaze darting over Sebastian’s face.

“Because I’m scared.” When the boys gasped, he nodded. “It’s true. I’ve kept certain things from the duchess because I’m afraid she’ll—” Sebastian rubbed his brow. “And now I don’t know how to tell her.”

James frowned. “So you don’t trust her?”

His brother knew how to get to the heart of the matter. “I don’t trust that Her Grace will forgive me. She didn’t have a high opinion of me before, and has only just started to think well of me—”

“And you’re scared she will think ill of you again,” James finished, his blue eyes so much wiser than his ten years.

Swallowing convulsively, Sebastian nodded.

“But you’re swell, Bastian.” David pushed his chair out with a squeak, and came around the table to stand in front of Sebastian. He placed one small hand on his shoulder. “We all make mistakes, and I’m sure if you tell the duchess you’re sorry, she’ll forgive you. Polly said she’s very nice.”

Sebastian glanced to James, who nodded in agreement.

“And no matter what, you’ll always have us,” David declared, accentuating his words by squeezing his shoulder.

Swamped with love and a touch of exasperation for the precocious boy, Sebastian pulled David into a hug.

Distracted as he was, he didn’t see the figure lingering in the hallway silently dash away.

· · ·

How Gabby made it back to her chamber without weeping, she didn’t know.

Sebastian was a father, and from the brief glimpse she had of him with his two sons, he was a loving and doting one. Which did not surprise her, because Sebastian was loving and doting.

He was also a liar.

Sinking onto their bed, where her husband had spent countless hours coaxing pleasure from her body and making her feel cherished, Gabby pressed her fist to her mouth to keep from crying.

So this was his secret. The mystery the entire household had worked to keep from her.

Two small boys, surely no older than ten, who looked at their father with stars in their eyes.

Boys she would have loved if she’d only been given a chance to.

She felt like such a fool. Of course Sebastian had children.

Gabby had known from the moment she met him that he was a rake, and in all the years they’d been acquainted, he’d continued to pursue his amorous and sexual exploits.

So it seemed natural that a man of his prowess, with his elevated status and power, would have children.

That’s not why her heart threatened to wrench itself from her chest.

Rather it was that he hadn’t told her. Had lied to her when she’d asked if there was anything she needed to know about his past. Not that it would have mattered, because Gabby would have had to marry him anyway…

But worse still, the entire staff at Whitfield Manor had conspired with him to keep the boys’ existence a secret. They must have thought her so stupid. A silly Mexican girl who couldn’t see past her own nose.

She’s hardly bright enough to hold the attention of the duke…

Gabby bit back a sob as she remembered her father’s words. Her heartache threatened to choke her…until it was burned away in the torrid blaze that was her anger.

Jumping to her feet, Gabby dashed away her tears and rang the service bell with more force than was warranted.

Not waiting for her summons to be answered, she stalked into the dressing room in search of a trunk.

As she tossed day gowns, shawls, and undergarments into the case, the chamber door opened.

“Your Grace?” Lupe, her maid, called.

Poking her head out of the room, Gabby flashed a tight smile. “Please ask Roberts to have a carriage or curricle, even a wagon, brought around.”

The young woman rocked back on her heels. “O-of course, Your Grace. Should I tell him where we’re going?”

“The train station,” she said succinctly, turning back to her packing.

Thankfully, Lupe did not ask additional questions and departed immediately to deliver her request.

Gabby was just fixing the clasp on her trunk when the chamber door opened again.

“Lupe, will you please grab that cream and pomade I brought from San Luis Potosí? The ones that smells like vanilla and violets,” she called.

“Yes, Your Grace.”

The voice was not Lupe’s. Gabby took a moment to fortify her defenses, imagining her spine was fused with steel, before she stepped from the dressing room.

Mrs.Evers was just leaving the bathing chamber, the cream and pomade she requested in hand.

The older woman did not say anything as she handed them to Gabby.

Staring down at the jars, Gabby debated what to say. Remembering how the housekeeper had kept her from investigating the sounds she heard in the attic just three weeks prior, Gabby decided the older woman deserved no explanation.

That did not keep Mrs.Evers from lingering near the door, observing Gabby as she grabbed books that had been gifts from Isabel. When she snatched up her shawl, the housekeeper finally cleared her throat.

“I understand your intention is to travel to the train station.” Gabby glanced at the woman, finding her worrying her hands. “Would you like me to instruct a footman to purchase a ticket for you and Lupe?”

“I can purchase our tickets,” Gabby said, and nothing more.

Mrs.Evers swallowed. “Is there anything I can do to assist you?”

Gabby slowly arched a brow. “I believe you’ve done enough, Mrs.Evers.”

She tried to keep the bitterness from her tone, but she knew she failed when the housekeeper flinched.

Still, the woman was not easily cowed, because Mrs.Evers took a step toward Gabby, her complexion pale.

“Shall I have the duke’s trunks packed, as well? Will he be meeting you at a later date?”

Her courage faltered at the mention of Sebastian. “I-I’m unaware of the duke’s plans. But His Grace appeared to have his hands full when I saw him in the nursery earlier today.”

She gleaned a small sliver of satisfaction from the way Mrs.Evers further blanched. Yet Gabby was suddenly exhausted. So very weary of fighting to be seen. To be respected. To matter enough…for the truth.

Surveying the room one last time, doing her best to block out all the happy memories she’d made within the surrounding walls, Gabby spied the letter from her parents peeking out from the book on her side table.

She grabbed it and slipped it into her pocket before she quit the room.

Without a word to Mrs.Evers, Gabby walked down the stairs, confident the housekeeper would instruct a footman to bring her trunk to the conveyance.

Roberts met her in the foyer, his face pale as his gaze bounced between her and the yard beyond. “Your Grace, I’m sure the duke will want to see you off before you depart. Perhaps it would be best to wait for him.”

Gabby shook her head as she donned her gloves. “No. Waiting is unnecessary.”

The butler and Mrs.Evers exchanged glances but said nothing more. Gabby was grateful because her mask of polite yet firm disinterest was beginning to slip.

The ride to the train station was done in silence, and Gabby was thankful to discover that Mrs.Evers had disregarded her objection and had a footman secure a private car for her.

With her arms wrapped around her waist, Gabby watched as the train pulled out from the station, leaving the quaint little village she had come to love behind.

Now alone, she pulled the letter from her pocket and stared at her mother’s sloping penmanship. Gabby was already depressed and dejected, so it seemed an appropriate time as any to read her parents’ words. Unfolding the parchment, she locked her jaw and read:

Querida hija, felicidades por tu matrimonio con el duque. Nosotros estamos orgullosos de ti…

The letter crumpled in her palm, and Gabby pressed it to her chest, finally allowing herself the luxury of tears.