Page 6 of Gabriela and His Grace

“Surely there’s more to him than just that,” Lucia offered now, yanking Gabby back to the present.

But a murmured “perhaps” was all Gabby was willing to concede.

• • •

“Your Grace, I hope your accommodations meet with your approval,” Captain Navarro said, stepping from an interior door and offering Sebastian a crisp bow. “You are in our largest guest chamber, and it was recently updated not a month past with the finest in furnishings.”

“I believe I will be quite comfortable for the voyage to Altamira,” he replied.

Sebastian tapped his cane as he glanced about the activity on the deck. Fellow passengers spoke in various groupings, with many lining the railing that overlooked the lower deck where the sailors congregated and the deep blue waters beyond. Like Sebastian, several sets strolled the deck in a circuit, greeting other first-class passengers along the way. Now that the captain had halted his promenade, Sebastian’s gaze immediately landed on Miss Luna—Gabriela—in her jade-green travel ensemble, the sea breeze tossing strands of her mahogany hair against her wind-chapped cheeks. She stood at the railing near the bow of the ship, chatting with a petite dark-haired woman he was not acquainted with. Fox had mentioned that a young woman would be traveling with Gabriela as a companion, so he assumed that was she. Sebastian was certain he would make her acquaintance at some point or another on the trip, and was certainly in no rush to engage with Gabriela so soon after departing.

He blinked when he realized the captain was speaking to him. Something about taking a tour of the bridge? “I thank you for the offer, sir, and it’s one I will gladly accept once I’ve become accustomed to the movements of the ship.”

Captain Navarro raised his brows. “Haven’t quite gained your sea legs, Your Grace?”

“Unfortunately, no.” Sebastian’s chuckle was dry. “I’m sure they will come to me in the next day or so. Or at least I hope.”

“Indeed.” The older man cocked his head. “I assume you have much experience traveling abroad.”

“Unfortunately, no.” Sebastian fought to keep the embarrassment from his cheeks. “As my father’s heir, the late duke forbade me to travel any farther than Paris, lest I come to harm. And since becoming Whitfield, I have been tending to the needs of the dukedom. This trip to Mexico is a first for me, and I find myself quite curious to explore the country. The wife of a close friend is from Mexico, and she speaks lovingly of her homeland.”

“Sí, Señorita Luna’s sister.” When Sebastian nodded, Captain Navarro smiled. “Señor Fox was quite adamant that I keep his young sister-in-law from harm.”

“He was quite adamant with me, as well.” Sebastian scoffed. “But I assure you that Miss Luna is quite capable of taking care of herself.”

He darted a look in her direction, startled to discover her gazing at him. Sebastian met her stare for only a moment before glancing away with a nod. Politeness was not hard, after all.

“I have found that you never know what kind of Mexican woman you’ll encounter. In Spain, where I am from, the women are demure and feminine. They’re pious and dutiful, and loving wives and mothers.” The older man’s tone turned contemplative as he studied Miss Luna and her companion. “But in Mexico, the women are…harder. Quick-tempered. I’m sure it’s from their mestizo blood.”

Sebastian didn’t bother to hide his frown. “Mestizo blood?”

Captain Navarro braced a hand on the railing, a relaxed posture that set Sebastian’s teeth on edge. Not that he expected proper decorum on the deck of a ship, but the older man’s ease hinted at a familiarity that had not been earned. “When you mix Spanish blood with…lesser varieties, well, you’re bound to produce inferiority.”

“Are you saying that Miss Luna is inferior?” Sebastian was surprised he was able to say the words around his gritted teeth.

The older man must have noted the anger in his tone, for he dropped his arm immediately, his eyes wide. “I would never dream of saying such a thing to her.”

“I should hope not, for her displeasure is a thing to fear.” The captain opened and closed his mouth, but before he could respond, Sebastian stepped close to his side. “Miss Luna is the epitome of not just beauty and grace, but intelligence and bravery. If I learn that she is treated with anything less than the utmost respect by you or any member of your crew, I will be incredibly vexed. Do you understand?”

Captain Navarro swallowed. “Of course, Your Grace.” Taking a step back, the man bowed stiffly. “Enjoy the rest of your day, sir,” he said, disappearing into an interior passageway.

Sebastian stared at the empty doorway for a long moment, replaying Navarro’s words in his mind. He was not naive to the fact that the Mexican people were maligned by many Europeans, most especially their former colonizers. But for anyone to assume Gabriela was somehow inferior was unfathomable to him. Sebastian knew she didn’t need him to defend her, and he wasn’t certain he even liked her, but good God, no one would ever insult Gabriela Luna within his hearing.

Tapping his cane on the wood beneath him to relieve the abundance of annoyance he now felt, Sebastian glanced up and down the deck. The promenade was dotted with passengers dressed in their most luxurious furs and wraps, as if they were preparing for an evening at Covent Garden. Sebastian swallowed a snort when an older couple dressed in tails and diamonds dipped their heads to him, like they were passing one another in the receiving line at a grand ball. The ship may be in fine, excellent shape, and Sebastian was all for greeting fellow passengers, but he was keen to leave behind the pomp and circumstance of the London social scene. The promise of weeks away from the critical stare of the ton that had been an oppressive presence in his life since the moment he came down from university made Sebastian want to laugh. Loudly and obnoxiously. David would be delighted by his uninhibitedness.

But Sebastian didn’t need to draw more attention to himself than his title already did.

So instead, Sebastian tugged on his waistcoat and meandered away. While he greeted fellow passengers with polite murmurings, Sebastian pondered how this would be his reality for the next eight or so weeks. If he were careful to avoid the mundane, this trip could be an adventure, and Sebastian welcomed it. After a lifetime spent in limbo, always waiting, first for his father to return and then for him to die, Sebastian was eager for something new.

With a sigh, Sebastian turned from the circuit he walked and directed his steps toward his cabin. Brodie would still be sorting through his trunks and arranging his wardrobe, but Sebastian had a task to see to. He’d promised his brothers that he would write to them every day he was away, so Sebastian may as well get started on his first letter. Sliding his gaze to the bow of the ship where Gabriela laughed with her companion, Sebastian snorted. If only he had pleasant company to keep.

3

Threads of gold, pink, and violet were just weaving across the horizon when Gabby stepped out of the interior passage and onto the promenade deck. Wrapping a shawl tightly around her shoulders, she shivered in the early morning air, white halos of steam puffing from her lips.

It wasn’t like her to awaken before dawn, but she’d not yet adjusted to the pitch and roll of the ship, which had jerked her awake more times than she could count. Gabby had stared at the ceiling of her cabin for long minutes, listening to Lucia’s even breaths, feeling as if the room were shrinking in around her. She’d always despised confined spaces, and with her head pounding, she escaped for the welcoming expanse of the ship deck. Tipping her head back, Gabby sucked salty sea air into her lungs and then expelled it, and her discomfort, in a long whoosh.

And then she heard it. Coughing, followed by a gagging noise that made Gabby’s nose crinkle. Apparently someone was struggling with motion sickness, and she pivoted to see if she could offer assistance…only to draw up short. For, leaning against the railing, a sickly tinge to his pallor, was Whitfield. He dragged a handkerchief from his coat pocket and wiped it across his brow, his shoulders heaving with his labored breaths. Had Gabby ever seen him so discomposed? She couldn’t recall, and sympathy swelled in her chest…which she resented. The duke didn’t deserve her sympathy.