Page 33 of Gabriela and His Grace

Just then, Whitfield appeared in the carriage doorway, the sun streaming around him and obscuring his expression. His words were soft when he asked, “Have you changed your mind? I’d be happy to be a distraction if you wish to slip away.”

Well. What a surprising offer. Forcing down a swallow, she finally said, “That is very kind of you. But I’ve never run away from a challenge before, and I’m not about to now.”

There was a smile in his voice when he said, “Bravo, Miss Luna. There’s that fiery spirit that’s burned me more times than I can count.”

“Burned you?” Gabby smirked. “Are you saying I’ve left you with scars, Your Grace?”

“Scars are a sign of a battle well fought.” The duke looked over his shoulder for a moment, allowing Gabby a glimpse of his profile. “From what I can infer, you’ve earned your battle scars.”

Gabby dropped her head. “Perhaps.”

“In that case, they’ve provided you with armor. Let them protect you as you venture into the lion’s den.” Whitfield extended a hand to her. “Plus, you will not be without friends.”

A blasted knot lodged in her throat, and Gabby paused as she fortified her emotions. Finally rising to her feet, she stepped from the carriage door, allowing Whitfield to assist her down. Taking a moment to shake out her skirts, Gabby sucked a bracing breath into her lungs and glanced up…

Only to see her father glowering at her.

• • •

Watching Gabriela’s confidence wither away in the face of her father’s displeasure made Sebastian’s scalp prickle with anger. And no small amount of alarm.

“Tilt your chin up,” he whispered through the side of his mouth. “You’ve done nothing wrong and have no reason to cower.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” Gabriela hissed…although she somehow managed to keep her expression composed. “You’re not the subject of his ire.”

“True, but then I could be.” Sebastian patted the back of her hand. “I have a talent for aggravating members of the Luna family, and am more than capable of doing so now.”

“Estúpido,” she murmured, although Sebastian was pleased to see some of the color had returned to her cheeks.

He didn’t have an opportunity to say anything else, for Mr. and Mrs. Luna stood before them. Sebastian inclined his head, allowing himself a quick moment to study them. His first realization was that Gabriela inherited many of her mother’s features, from her sleek mahogany hair, to her heart-shaped face, to her sparkling hazel eyes surrounded by lush, ebony lashes. But Mrs. Luna had hints of gray around her temples, and a fullness to her figure that spoke of her maturity. The older woman studied him unabashedly in return, those familiar yet foreign eyes sweeping over his form.

“Mother, allow me to introduce you to—” Gabriela began, but María Elena cut off her words as she swept her daughter into an embrace.

“Mi hijita,” the older woman crooned, pressing kisses to Gabriela’s brow and cheeks, before she stepped back to cup Gabriela’s cheeks between her palms. “I did not know you would be here. Isa, why didn’t you tell us your sister was coming?”

Isabel opened her mouth to respond, but Gabriela interjected. “I asked her not to because I wanted to surprise you.”

“Surprise us?” Mrs. Luna crinkled her nose. “Why would you want to do that?”

“Yes, Gabriela,” Mr. Luna said, speaking for the first time. “Why would you choose to surprise us? Surely it would have been wiser to ask if it was a safe time for you to return to Mexico?”

Sebastian narrowed his eyes. Shouldn’t Mr. Luna greet his youngest daughter before he scolded her? His wife certainly had, as she clutched Gabriela close even now. Yet Mr. Luna merely stared at her with his brows stitched together.

Gabriela’s own gaze turned steely. “And yet here I am, happy and healthy.”

“Señor y Señora Luna,” Dawson interjected, stepping forward and flourishing a respectful bow, “le presento al Duque de Whitfield.”

His clever friend. Sebastian met Dawson’s gaze for just a moment, signaling his gratitude for the intervention. Without missing a beat, Sebastian first greeted Mrs. Luna by bowing over her hand, a teasing smirk on his lips. True to his experience with older women, Mrs. Luna simpered. Sebastian almost laughed himself when he heard Gabriela’s soft snort.

“Señor,” Mrs. Luna said, stepping away from her daughter and sinking into a graceful curtsy, “bienvenidos a Mexico.”

“Gracias, Señora Luna,” he said, dipping his head. “Contento de estar aquí.”

“You speak Spanish?” Gabriela cried, slapping a hand over her mouth, her cheeks red.

Somehow, Sebastian managed not to smile. “Sí. I’ve been practicing since I first invested in the Camino Rojo mine.”

“I see,” she whispered, releasing his gaze to glance at her mother, and then her sister. “So this whole time…”