Page 76 of Gabriela and His Grace

The Countess of Tolleston tittered, reaching for her own cup of tea. “Well, if Lady Ambrose was mistaken, you would think Whitfield would want to rectify the misunderstanding. And yet he’s not here. He’s left you all alone to satisfy everyone’s curiosity. I wonder why that is?”

The ladies who flanked her tutted their agreement, and the other visitors shifted in their seats at Lady Tolleston’s unspoken assertion. An assertion that had Gabby clenching her teeth so hard her jaw ached. She shouldn’t be surprised the countess had designated herself Gabby’s inquisitor. Lady Tolleston had once been the catty Lady Emily Hargrove, and Gabby had verbally sparred with the woman numerous times, sometimes in defense of her sisters, but oftentimes because Gabby simply did not like her.

But now there was blood in the water, and the sharks were circling.

Lady Tolleston winged up a brow. “Or perhaps the duke heard the rumors about you and Lord Carlisle—”

Before Gabby could be outraged by the countess’s innuendo, the drawing room door swung open. Gabby could hear excited whispers in the hall from other visitors waiting to pay their respects.

The butler stepped into the room and glanced at Ana María first before sliding his gaze to Gabby. “The Duke of Whitfield.”

The guests collectively gasped as Sebastian filled the doorway, but a quiet sigh fled Gabby’s lungs. Dressed in a midnight-blue morning coat with a matching waistcoat that set off the glacial blue of his eyes, and his dark chocolate hair styled just so, Sebastian appeared every bit an imposing duke. His gaze lazily moved about the congested room before landing on her. He looked sinfully handsome, and Gabby’s breath stuttered as he focused his attention on her. If she had managed to convince the crowd that they were merely friends, the intensity of Sebastian’s stare completely eradicated that notion.

“Miss Luna, if I had known you would have a swarm of visitors, I would have come sooner.” There was a hint of a smile on his lips, but Gabby noted his eyes had turned hard. “Have you all come to welcome Miss Luna back to London?”

Sebastian knew the ton only too well.

Gabby suppressed a smile when he fixed a steely gaze over his spectacles on Mr. Norris, who was seated on the love seat next to her. The man flinched, but without a word, he rose to his feet and moved away. Sebastian settled into the vacated spot, sending a whiff of his woodsy scent to her nose. She clenched her hands tightly in her skirts when he stretched an arm across the back of the love seat behind her, at ease before their audience in ways she could only aspire to. How Gabby longed to lean into his side and bury her face in his neck, where she knew he smelled divine. How she wished he would wrap his arms about her and shield her from the curt innuendos she had only just begun to endure.

When had Sebastian turned into a source of comfort for her?

“I’m sorry I didn’t arrive sooner,” he said quietly, in Spanish. His blue gaze roved over her face. “Has it been ghastly?”

She choked on a laugh, so thankful for this intimate moment with him. Gabby was acutely aware that every set of eyes in the room were fixed on them, yet Sebastian ignored them, conversing in her native language as if it were natural to do so. Gratitude surged through her, and had there not been spectators, Gabby would have kissed him.

“It’s been awful,” she murmured, “but now you’re here to endure it with me.”

“Indeed.” Sebastian smoothed a hand down his thigh. “You won’t have to face them alone again.”

Before Gabby could wonder at his declaration, Lady Yardley cleared her throat. “I had no notion you spoke Spanish, Your Grace.”

Sebastian dipped his head. “I’m flattered you noticed, your ladyship. I’ve been taking lessons over the last year. Spending time in Mexico helped to strengthen my skills.”

“I’m sure dear Gabby appreciates your fluency.” Lady Yardley smiled affectionately at her. “She’s mentioned that she misses speaking Spanish, and unfortunately I do not possess your talent for acquiring languages.”

“You’ve done very well learning it, my lady,” Gabby argued. Regardless of the ways in which they vexed each other, Lady Yardley had always been good to her, and Gabby appreciated that the older woman was there to be an ally.

Before the viscountess could respond, Lady Tolleston cleared her throat. Loudly.

“Your Grace, we were just talking about you,” the countess said, her smile encompassing Sebastian and Sebastian alone. “It’s so good that you’ve returned from your trip to Mexico, and with a bit of a tan, I see. It would seem as if you enjoyed your visit.”

“Indeed, I did.” Sebastian nodded. “It was productive professionally, and I was gratified to spend time with my old friend, Captain Dawson, and his wife, the former Miss Luna.”

Sebastian shared observations about his time in Mexico, and answered questions about the mine and the town they stayed in, but Gabby sensed most visitors were just biding their time. Waiting until they could turn the conversation toward what they were truly ravenous to know.

Unsurprisingly, Lady Tolleston was the one to redirect the discussion.

“So, Your Grace,” she began, leaning forward in a manner that showcased her décolletage. “Rumors have been circulating about you. And Miss Luna.” The last was added almost begrudgingly.

“I’m sure they have,” Sebastian drawled. He said nothing more, merely cocking his head.

Never one to pass up a chance to be dramatic, Gabby raised her brows.

The countess swallowed and glanced about. Tilting her chin, she finally said, “The rumors are that you and Miss Luna were caught in an embrace.”

The room was silent except for the steady tick of the clock on Ana María’s escritoire. Unable to help herself, Gabby narrowed her eyes at the countess, who stared back at her almost gleefully. The anger fled her body, however, when Sebastian’s knuckles ran up and down her arm.

Several gazes darted to the movement of his hand, before swinging up to move between her and Sebastian. Gabby did her best to keep her mien impassive, even as she revived under his touch.