Page 96 of Gabriela and His Grace

“I would be happy to.” Sebastian stepped forward and the boys moved to his side. “Duchess, allow me to introduce James White and David White, my brothers.” The elder boy bowed respectfully, while the younger boy, David, grinned impishly. “Boys, this is Gabriela Luna Brooks, the Duchess of Whitfield. You will address her as Your Grace or Her Grace.”

“Actually,” Gabby said, crouching down so she could meet their eyes, “I’d prefer for you to call me Gabby. We’re family, after all.”

“I like Gabby much better than Your Grace.” David scratched behind his ear. “Although I knew a Grace at the home and she was perfectly swell.”

“Davey,” James hissed, “stop blabbering.”

David scowled. “I’m not blabbering. I’m just talking to the duchess.” He turned his blue gaze, so much like Sebastian’s, on Gabby. “You’re just as pretty as Polly said you were.”

“It’s true, Your Grace,” James said quietly, his cheeks coloring.

Gabby, too, flushed to the roots of her hair. She had never put much stock in remarks on her appearance, but no compliment had touched her quite like the one just uttered by these two young boys.

“She’s also a talented hopscotch player,” Sebastian said, sliding his arm around Gabby’s waist.

“You are?” David exclaimed, looking at her with added interest.

James stepped forward, his handsome little face solemn. “Will you be returning with us to the manor, Your—er, Gabby?”

Filling her lungs with air, Gabby glanced up at Sebastian. Her husband cocked a brow, and the ghost of a smirk tipped up his lips. She grinned.

“The manor is my home. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

EPILOGUE

June 1872

Dancourt Abbey had changed much in the nine years since Gabby and her sisters had taken refuge there, but had lost none of its charm.

“Sirius has been in discussions with O’Brien and the other men about how best to approach the abbey renovations.” Isabel squinted as she glanced across the lawn in the direction of the old abbey ruins. “It’s been almost three hundred years since the nunnery closed, and the men want to reuse as much of the original materials as they can.”

“Because the old materials contain all the character.” Ana María raised a glass of lemonade to her lips and took a leisurely sip. “Can you imagine what those old stones bore witness to?”

“Probably a good number of nuns sneaking in and out of each other’s rooms—”

“Gabby!” her sisters cried in shocked unison.

Gabby doubted she’d ever grow tired of scandalizing her sisters. Raising a shoulder, she smiled. “But am I wrong?”

“Ay Dios, I’ve missed you,” Isabel said, reaching out to squeeze Gabby’s hand.

“And I you,” she replied, lacing their fingers together and holding her older sister tight.

With Mexico settling into an era of reformation after Maximilian and his generals were executed and the French were driven back to Europe, the sisters had found ways to strengthen their bonds across the distance between them. Isabel, Sirius, and their twin boys, Daniel and Gabriel, had arrived from San Luis Potosí a fortnight prior and had invited all the family to join them for an extended visit at their country home, Dancourt Abbey. The family had visited at least once a year since they departed to Mexico, but this was their longest planned visit since the boys had been born. After years of planning, Sirius was finally ready to tackle the renovations to the old abbey ruins where Ana María and Gideon had married years before. Most of the blueprints had been agreed upon, but there were still some decisions to be made, and Isabel and Sirius would remain in England until the first phase of renovation was underway. And now that Señora Maza de Juárez had passed away, Isabel’s schedule was not as demanding as it had been.

Gabby and Sebastian had quickly accepted the invitation, ready to quit their busy social and political schedules in London for a spell. The preceding months had been particularly grueling for Gabby as she had helped to launch another medical clinic in Whitechapel, near the parish church where Ana María and Gideon attended. The clinic’s focus was to meet the medical needs of women in the area, including pregnant women, new mothers, and their children. Gabby continued to be inspired by her visit to Doctora Jimenez’s clinic in San Luis Potosí, and after she’d settled into married life, Gabby had turned her attention to the project, more than willing to use her title as Duchess of Whitfield to accomplish her goal. She had planned the endeavor meticulously, with help and advice from Isabel, Doctora Jimenez, and Ana María. The clinic in Whitechapel was the fourth such clinic she’d helped open over the years of her marriage, a feat that had only been possible with the financial support of a group of wealthy patronesses she’d recruited from among the ton. Gabby had courted them methodically, stealthily, and with a barge full of charm, Sebastian declared. It certainly helped that Gabby’s duchess coronet had made her more popular than ever. She fought the urge to roll her eyes when she remembered the fawning articles that had been written after their marriage. Society certainly loved the story of a reformed rake…and Gabby loved Sebastian enough not to make a fuss about the narrative.

“I’m so thankful you were able to convince Mother to accompany you, Isa,” Ana María murmured, her voice filled with emotion.

Pressing her lips together, Gabby allowed her gaze to rest on her mother, who sat under a willow tree with Lady Yardley, the older women watching the children and men play cricket on the pitch. While neither Gabby nor María Elena had ever discussed the fraught nature of their last conversation before Gabby fled back to England, Gabby sensed her mother was regretful for how the situation unfolded. Her mother had never offered an apology, but neither had Gabby provided an explanation. Rather the women had continued on as if nothing had transpired, an act made infinitely easier by the fact that Gabby had married the duke.

Sliding her eyes from María Elena, Gabby sighed when her gaze touched on Sebastian showing their daughter, Sofia, how to field the mid off position. Sofia was several months shy of her third birthday, but she may as well have been anticipating her thirtieth for all the stubborn, no-nonsense attitude she displayed. Sebastian was amused to no end by her toddler antics, and Sofia exploited her father’s soft heart, using it to extend bedtimes and forgive her naughty behavior in equal measure. On more than one occasion, Gabby had vented to Ana María of her daughter’s headstrong behavior only for her older sister to remind her that Sofia was much more like her mother than her father, and Gabby had not known whether to be proud or disgruntled. The previous evening, Sofia had stomped her foot and pouted, her blue eyes flashing, after being told it was bedtime, and Gabby had not missed how her older sisters had exchanged diverted glances as they watched her tend to her daughter.

Being a mother had been a challenge, but Gabby was thankful she had a partner in Sebastian. Unlike their own fathers, both of whom deigned to notice their children only when it suited them, Sebastian was doting and gentle. He could be firm with Sofia when necessary, but her duke genuinely enjoyed spending time with their daughter, and Gabby was not surprised. Sebastian had shown her, first with his regard toward their niece, Estella, and then with David and James, that his arrogant manner masked a deep well of love.

Thinking of the wonderful father Sebastian was brought her own father to mind. Elías Luna had not wished to make the long trip to England with his old friend Presidente Juárez in poor health. Gabby knew her father wasn’t in the best health himself, as he had curtailed many of his duties after he had suffered a stroke the year prior. Isabel said Elías had softened after his health scare, and spent more time with his grandsons, regaling them with tales of his youth. But more often, their father could be found with Juárez, and Gabby thought it almost poetic that the men, who’d been by each other’s side through all manner of trials, would spend their last days together.

“When do the boys return to Eton, Gabby?” Isabel asked.