Page 56 of Gabriela and His Grace

Her lips quirked. “I don’t know how much worse, but definitely a bit.”

Sebastian chuckled, pleased to see some color returning to Gabriela’s face. He pivoted to return to his coffee, but paused. “You’re allowed to change your mind. About returning to England or staying here in Mexico, or any of the other everyday choices that affect your life. You’re in a privileged position to make your own decisions, and you must protect that autonomy from those who would manipulate you for their own gain.”

She glanced up at him, her throat bobbing. Finally, Gabriela nodded again.

With that, Sebastian strolled away, determined to find Brodie and see him off to Altamira. It was a long trek, but Sebastian didn’t trust anyone else to see to the task. He didn’t want word to reach the Lunas that Gabriela was preparing to depart, for Sebastian knew Mr. Luna would not allow her to leave so easily. It was clear that he had decided to use her hand as a bargaining chip among his potential allies, and with Maximilian and the imperialists in danger of losing their hold on the country, many men were intent to align themselves with Juárez and his supporters.

“Did she ask you?” Sirius asked as Sebastian walked by the table where his friend still sat with his wife.

He nodded but did not pause. “I’m making travel arrangements now. Will you help me secure a chaperone?”

Sirius nodded. “Of course.”

Just before he disappeared into the house, a voice called out to him. “Thank you, Your Grace.”

Sebastian turned to find Isabel Dawson walking toward him, her hands clasped at her chest.

“I know I don’t have to tell you that Gabby is very special to me. She’s long been a fearless defender of mine, and now I don’t know how to defend her in turn.”

“Sometimes it’s the ones we love who hurt us the most,” he said quietly.

Isabel’s eyes turned glassy. “Sadly, I think this experience has shown her that perhaps Mexico is not her home after all. I appreciate your willingness to help her, especially considering your contentious history with one another.”

Not wanting to think of the rancor that had always percolated between them, Sebastian simply nodded. “Whatever our history, I am a gentleman and will be at Miss Luna’s service.”

A small, knowing smile curved Isabel’s lips. “I’ll help Gabby prepare for tomorrow.”

With that, she turned back to the table and her waiting husband, and Sebastian was left to determine a way forward when everything had abruptly been thrown upside down.

• • •

“Juana said you told her you could pack your gowns on your own. Are you sure you don’t want help?”

Gabby glanced up from her trunk to find Isabel standing in the threshold of her room, her mouth a slash of displeasure. Without waiting for a response, her sister wandered to the bed, where Gabby had laid out the various gowns she had brought with her from London.

“You looked stunning in this,” her sister said, her fingers tracing the embroidery on her red silk Worth gown. “Is it any wonder why half the men in San Luis Potosí have petitioned Father for your hand?”

“All of this mess because of one red dress,” Gabby snorted.

“If it wasn’t the red one, it would have been the blue one, or the primrose, or the mauve.” Isabel cocked her head as she studied her. “You’re charming, clever, and thoughtful…but I’m sorry that the only trait Father seems to value is your beauty.”

Gabby tucked her chin into her chest, a long sigh slipping from her lips. “I truly believed I would be able to show him that I had more to offer than just my face. Like you and Ana have.”

“You do have more to offer, querida. So much more.” The rustling of skirts told Gabby her sister had moved closer. “But maybe this wasn’t the time to show it. Maybe it wasn’t the place.”

Jerking her head up, Gabby frowned. “Do you really think so?”

Her sister raised a shoulder. “I don’t know. But it seems to me that it’s hard to be someone new when a mold has already been fashioned for you. There was no mold for you in London.”

Isabel was right. While Tío Arturo and Lady Yardley had been their caretakers, Gabby and her sisters had largely been left to their own devices. That freedom had allowed her to explore ideas and concepts she found interesting, and interact with people from different circumstances than the narrow, sheltered life she had lived in Mexico City. Despite the rainy, dreary weather, Gabby had bloomed in her new independence, and was more confident in who she was and who she wanted to be.

Clearing her throat, she flashed Isabel a smile. “You sound very wise, hermana.”

Isabel chuckled. “So the duke has agreed to escort you to London.”

She nodded, her throat suddenly dry. Whitfield had agreed without hesitation, and she was thankful. “He has”—she licked her lips—“been surprisingly agreeable on this trip.”

“High praise, indeed.” Isabel pulled the red Worth gown over her lap, her fingers once again tracing over the embroidery. “Sirius mentioned that despite Whitfield’s reputation as a haughty rake, he’s also genuinely well liked among the ton.”