Page 88 of Gabriela and His Grace

“Because I’m scared.” When the boys gasped, he nodded. “It’s true. I’ve kept certain things from the duchess because I’m afraid she’ll—” Sebastian rubbed his brow. “And now I don’t know how to tell her.”

James frowned. “So you don’t trust her?”

His brother knew how to get to the heart of the matter. “I don’t trust that Her Grace will forgive me. She didn’t have a high opinion of me before, and has only just started to think well of me—”

“And you’re scared she will think ill of you again,” James finished, his blue eyes so much wiser than his ten years.

Swallowing convulsively, Sebastian nodded.

“But you’re swell, Bastian.” David pushed his chair out with a squeak, and came around the table to stand in front of Sebastian. He placed one small hand on his shoulder. “We all make mistakes, and I’m sure if you tell the duchess you’re sorry, she’ll forgive you. Polly said she’s very nice.”

Sebastian glanced to James, who nodded in agreement.

“And no matter what, you’ll always have us,” David declared, accentuating his words by squeezing his shoulder.

Swamped with love and a touch of exasperation for the precocious boy, Sebastian pulled David into a hug.

Distracted as he was, he didn’t see the figure lingering in the hallway silently dash away.

• • •

How Gabby made it back to her chamber without weeping, she didn’t know.

Sebastian was a father, and from the brief glimpse she had of him with his two sons, he was a loving and doting one. Which did not surprise her, because Sebastian was loving and doting.

He was also a liar.

Sinking onto their bed, where her husband had spent countless hours coaxing pleasure from her body and making her feel cherished, Gabby pressed her fist to her mouth to keep from crying. So this was his secret. The mystery the entire household had worked to keep from her. Two small boys, surely no older than ten, who looked at their father with stars in their eyes.

Boys she would have loved if she’d only been given a chance to.

She felt like such a fool. Of course Sebastian had children. Gabby had known from the moment she met him that he was a rake, and in all the years they’d been acquainted, he’d continued to pursue his amorous and sexual exploits. So it seemed natural that a man of his prowess, with his elevated status and power, would have children. That’s not why her heart threatened to wrench itself from her chest.

Rather it was that he hadn’t told her. Had lied to her when she’d asked if there was anything she needed to know about his past. Not that it would have mattered, because Gabby would have had to marry him anyway…

But worse still, the entire staff at Whitfield Manor had conspired with him to keep the boys’ existence a secret. They must have thought her so stupid. A silly Mexican girl who couldn’t see past her own nose.

She’s hardly bright enough to hold the attention of the duke…

Gabby bit back a sob as she remembered her father’s words. Her heartache threatened to choke her…until it was burned away in the torrid blaze that was her anger.

Jumping to her feet, Gabby dashed away her tears and rang the service bell with more force than was warranted. Not waiting for her summons to be answered, she stalked into the dressing room in search of a trunk. As she tossed day gowns, shawls, and undergarments into the case, the chamber door opened.

“Your Grace?” Lupe, her maid, called.

Poking her head out of the room, Gabby flashed a tight smile. “Please ask Roberts to have a carriage or curricle, even a wagon, brought around.”

The young woman rocked back on her heels. “O-of course, Your Grace. Should I tell him where we’re going?”

“The train station,” she said succinctly, turning back to her packing.

Thankfully, Lupe did not ask additional questions and departed immediately to deliver her request.

Gabby was just fixing the clasp on her trunk when the chamber door opened again.

“Lupe, will you please grab that cream and pomade I brought from San Luis Potosí? The ones that smells like vanilla and violets,” she called.

“Yes, Your Grace.”