Page 72 of Gabriela and His Grace

“She is,” Brodie stated. “I stopped by the room to ask if she required any assistance before I found you here.”

“Ah,” Sebastian said dumbly, unsure of what to say. Eventually, he said, “You’re certain Fox or Señor Valdés will be waiting to collect her when we arrive?”

The Scotsman slowly nodded his head. “As I’ve said, I sent a telegram to Mr. Fox from Altamira alerting him of the change in plans.”

“Very good.” Nothing about how Sebastian felt was good. In fact, he would very much like to kick something. “I appreciate your forethought.”

Brodie dipped his head in acknowledgment.

“If you’ll excuse me.” Without waiting for a reply, Sebastian hastened away.

He didn’t knock when he reached his cabin, instead unlocking the door and slipping inside without preamble. Sebastian’s heart pounded as he wandered about the rooms until he saw her standing on the veranda from the corner of his eye.

“I was wondering if I would see you before we disembarked,” Gabriela said as he joined her at the rail. Her gaze was fixed on the London skyline emerging from the thick fog that shrouded it.

“As if I would be so rude as to let you depart without saying goodbye.” Sebastian’s throat worked on a swallow. “Or did you prefer for last night to be our goodbye?”

The night prior, they had made love several times, each time more frantic, more desperate than the last. And when they had finally collapsed, exhausted and sweaty, Gabriela had wrapped her arms around his waist, buried her face in his chest, and fallen into a deep sleep. Sleep had eluded Sebastian, however, and he’d held her close, curling the satin strands of her hair around his fingers, and silently hoping the lurching rhythm of his heart was a suitable lullaby.

To his embarrassed relief, Gabriela reached out to grab his hand, knitting their fingers together. “Last night may have been enough of a goodbye for some, but not for me.”

The urge to ask her what she meant sat on the tip of Sebastian’s tongue, but he couldn’t bring himself to voice the question. In his thirty-two years of life, he’d never been so tempted to make himself a fool.

They stood side by side for a spell, watching as the docks, and the dilapidated and dingy buildings that lined them, slowly came into view. Already the stench wafting across the water masked her violet and amber scent, and Sebastian gripped his cane to resist the urge to draw her to his chest and bury his face in her neck. The Duke of Whitfield had already allowed himself to be brought low, and his pride—his very survival—demanded he not drag himself any lower.

“I’ll miss you,” she murmured. Her voice was soft but strong. How Sebastian wished he could be brave like her.

Instead, Sebastian pressed his lips together until he was certain none of his lovesick emotions snuck into his tone. “It’s a good thing we will still see each other on occasion.”

“Perhaps. But I’m sure you’ll welcome a reprieve from me.”

“I’ll have a reprieve from London completely, because I plan to retire to Whitfield Manor for the summer.”

Gabriela turned to him then, her hazel eyes wide. “You do?”

He nodded. “There are several renovations planned that I’d like to oversee. Plus, winter crops will be planted soon, and then we’ll harvest mature crops afterward.” Sebastian looked down at his hands, the urge to tell her about James and David was overwhelming, but what point was there in revealing the boys’ identities if Gabriela would never have cause to meet them? “Already the Camino Rojo mine has allowed me to care for the old manor in ways I’ve long wished to, and I want to be there to see it all happen.”

“I think that’s wonderful, Sebastian.” A smile slipped across her lips. “You are the steward of a great legacy, and of course you should do all you can to ensure its future is bright.”

Great, hardly. But he was trying to do his part to erase the sins of the past.

“And what of your future?” Sebastian hadn’t meant to ask the question, but it now hung in the air between them.

Gabriela gazed ahead, her throat bobbing on a swallow. “I’m not sure. Now that the plans I had for myself have come to naught, I’m a ship without moor. Perhaps I will ask Gideon to help me plan out my financial future as a spinster. I have no intention of being a burden to him or Ana.”

Sebastian snorted. “You will not be a spinster.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being a spinster. I daresay that marriage proves to be nothing but heartache for many women.” She huffed a breath. “Indeed I’d rather remain unmarried than find myself shackled to a man who’s more concerned about my dowry and connections than any of the thoughts in my head.”

“As you should.” Sebastian nodded. “Especially as the thoughts in your head are quite intelligent and interesting.”

Gabriela froze, her eyes unblinking on his. He merely stared back at her, his heart threatening to tremble from his chest. What was it about this firebrand that loosened his tongue and made him weak in the knees?

“You’re only saying that because—”

Her sentence was cut off by the sound of footsteps behind them. Sebastian watched as Brodie came to a stop before them.

“They’re preparing to lower the gangplanks.”