Page 24 of Gabriela and His Grace

So she forbade herself to think of him…which meant she needed to avoid him. If Whitfield learned she was softening to him, he would be insufferable. More so than he already was.

Gabby clung to this thought as she covertly tracked Whitfield’s movements while she walked next to Lucia, doing her best to attend to her friend’s chatter.

“—and Mrs. Sanderson mentioned that she’d be happy to ask their driver to deliver me to my abuela’s house because they would be heading in that direction anyway. I told her it was incredibly kind of her to offer, but the Duke of Whitfield had already offered to procure a private carriage and outriders for me and José when we docked.”

Stumbling to a halt, Gabby whipped her head about to look at Lucia. “Whitfield is renting you a private carriage?”

Her friend slowly nodded, a divot between her brows. “He is. We shared an early morning walk yesterday, and he offered when he learned I was nervous about traveling to Guanajuato with only my cousin.”

“You walked with the duke?” Gabby asked, frowning outright.

“Did I not tell you?” Lucia cocked her head to the side. “We chatted for at least a half hour. I can’t tell you how relieved I am that he offered to assist me, and before I could even ask.”

Gabby dropped Lucia’s gaze to stare at the horizon. An odd mix of emotions churned in her chest, and she swallowed the knot that abruptly lodged in her throat. “That was kind of him.”

And it was. Not just for Whitfield to come to Lucia’s aid, but to engage her in friendly conversation. Yet why did the knowledge that Lucia and the duke spent time together, without her, leave her clenching her teeth until her jaw hurt?

“Have I said something to upset you?”

Shaking her head, Gabby flashed her friend a smile. “No. I’m just surprised you spent time alone with the duke.”

Lucia scoffed. “Well, we weren’t really alone, were we? There were several other passengers on the deck when Whitfield and I chatted, and truthfully, I would not at all be surprised if the duke sought my company because Mrs. Attmore had been chattering his ear off about her daughter.”

“There’s nothing mothers of unmarried daughters desire more than a bachelor duke,” Gabby grumbled.

“Especially when he’s charming. And has stunning blue eyes,” Lucia said, with a laugh.

“Stunning?” Gabby rolled her own eyes. “I wouldn’t call them stunning.”

Lucia tapped Gabby’s skirts with her parasol. “That’s because you don’t like him.”

“That’s not true,” she responded, more sharply than she had intended. Pressing her lips together, Gabby paused before she said, “My dislike for him may have lessened over the course of this trip.”

Her friend stared at her, laughter in her gaze. “Even though he beat you at hopscotch?”

“I assure you I’m quite over it.”

And she was…for the most part.

“Well, it seems that if the duke returned any aversion toward you, it may have lessened, as well,” Lucia said, walking away at a leisurely pace.

Gabby hastened after her. “What do you mean?”

“What I mean is that Whitfield mentioned that he learned a good deal about the current political climate in Mexico from you.” Lucia lifted a shoulder. “He seemed impressed with your nuanced perspective.”

“Oh,” Gabby whispered, turning her chin away. She’d impressed Whitfield? Gabby had certainly never sought the duke’s good opinion, but she couldn’t deny that her chest felt tight at the thought she may have earned his respect. Because whatever Gabby thought of the Duke of Whitfield, she knew earning his esteem was not easily done. They were alike in that way.

“Have you put away your quills?”

Blinking, Gabby met Lucia’s amused gaze. “Qué?”

Lucia smiled as she moved away a step. “You bristled like a porcupine. I’ve noticed that your initial response to new information tends to be a defensive one. As if you aren’t sure if it’s a threat or not.”

Gabby scowled…but it melted from her face when Lucia winged up her brows, as if to say, See? With a sigh, she pinched the bridge of her nose and counted to five. Lucia wasn’t wrong. Almost by default, her natural response was to be wary of new people and observations, using her smiles as a shield. It took her time to lower her guard, which was why most of her interactions, and even friendships, were surface level. Gabby had no desire to share her true self with every miss, rake, and gentleman she met.

“Yes, well. I’ve been trying to be better about that.” She paused, a new thought striking her. “How do you know about porcupines? I didn’t think there were any in Britain.”

“There are not,” Lucia conceded with a chuckle. “But my father used to call my mother his beloved puercoespín, because like you, she was of a fiery temperament.”