Page 34 of Scoundrel for Sale
Gabe had some explaining to do. She looked up and found him cringing.
Tiago glanced back and forth between the two of them, and his face cracked into a broad smile. “You are! You are his Abbie! Oh, this is better than I could have hoped—already he has claimed his happiness!” He stood erect, abruptly proper, and bowed again, this time stopping the requisite two inches above Abbie’s hand. “In that case, I will behave myself, but you still must call me Tiago.”
“Thank you, Tiago. And you are correct. I am Abigail Davies.” She glanced at Gabe, who had his mouth resolutely clamped shut. She turned back to Tiago. “May I ask what you meant when you said that I was his Abigail?”
Tiago recoiled, then turned to glare at Gabe. “Do you mean to tell me you have not already proposed? What on earth are you waiting for? Given what you have told me about your beloved Abigail, I would have expected you to fly to her side, to waste not a single second in—”
“It’s complicated,” Gabe ground out.
Abbie was reeling. Since when was she Gabe’s beloved Abigail? Why, just last night he had denied having feelings for her. And while a little voice inside her head kept asking but what if he’s lying, each time it piped up she had brutally quashed it. The more rational part of her brain knew that this was wistful thinking, nothing more.
And yet… If what Tiago was saying was true, if she wasn’t misunderstanding… Oh, what if she was misunderstanding? What if she was beloved in the way of a little sister?
Tiago had an outraged expression on his handsome face. “Complicated?” He gestured to Abbie. “What is complicated about marrying the woman you love?”
Abbie all but choked on her own tongue. That didn’t leave much room for misinterpretation.
She rounded on Gabe, hands upon her hips. “The woman you love, hmm? Care to explain, Gabe?”
Gabe said nothing, so she turned back to the captain. “Tiago, what exactly has Gabe told you about me?”
A mischievous glint came into Tiago’s brown eyes. “It was only when he was deep into his cups that he would talk about you. But then he would tell us of a girl, a girl unparalleled in beauty, and in kindness—”
“De Noronha,” Gabe said sharply.
“Oh, how he lived for your letters!” Tiago continued, unrepentant. “Every time he would receive one, he would disappear into his tent for hours—”
Gabe’s cheeks had a distinct pink tinge beneath his golden tan. “That’s enough.”
“But oh, the agony!” Tiago pressed a hand to his heart. “Because Abigail, his Abigail, was wed to another!”
“I think you’ve embarrassed me sufficiently,” Gabe said. “You can stop now.”
“But then,” Tiago continued, raising a finger in triumph, “her husband died! There was a chance, a chance for him to be with his beloved at long last! So you can imagine my surprise, to find the two of you here together and to learn that he has not proposed.”
“Remind me again why we’re friends,” Gabe muttered.
Tiago turned to Gabe. “Is it that nonsense about feeling unworthy of her?” He fixed his eyes upon Abbie. “Because he is worthy, minha linda. Believe me, he is worthy.”
“I am well aware of it,” Abbie concurred.
“See!” Tiago reached behind Gabe and gave him an encouraging push forward. “She is receptive to your suit! Why do you not—”
“Santiago?” came a more heavily accented voice from just behind them.
Tiago snapped to attention. “Avô.” He drew an elderly man into their circle. The man was half a head shorter than Tiago and had a full head of salt-and-pepper hair and a neatly groomed mustache. Although he had to be in his eighties, his posture remained upright, and he carried himself with grave dignity.
To Gabe and Abbie, Tiago said, “This is my grandfather, Rodrigo de Noronha.” He continued in Portuguese, “Grandfather, allow me to present my friends. This is Lieutenant Davenport—”
“Davenport?” Mr. de Noronha’s wide eyes flew to Tiago’s face, and then to Gabe’s. “Do you mean, the Lieutenant Davenport?”
“The very one,” Tiago replied.
“The Lieutenant Davenport who fought with you at Vitoria?”
“Yes, Grandfather.”
Tiago’s grandfather stood frozen for a breath, staring at Gabe intently.
