Free The Music Box by Andrea Kane Page A

but gone when he left your quarters today. Why? Because his soul had been nourished. I’m willing to bet there was nothing he wouldn’t have been able to accomplish at that moment, lame or not.”
    “I agree.” Bryce shifted, making Gaby aware of her grasp on his forearm.
    Awkwardly she released him, interlacing her fingers in her lap. “If you’d like, I can provide you with the background of each and every servant at Nevon Manor. Most of them were discharged from other jobs by dissatisfied employers who demanded perfection and refused to accept less. As for the children, Peter, of course, is Cook’s son. The others are orphans like me. No,” she amended softly. “Their circumstances when Aunt Hermione took them in were far more dire than mine. Their mothers were unwed, cast into the streets where they died of starvation or illness, leaving behind children who were little more than infants. Lily, Jane, Henry, Charles—they have no memories to sustain them, nothing to hold on to at night to help keep their parents alive. I, thankfully, have both—memories and my music box.”
    “Music box?”
    Gaby nodded. “Mama told me that Papa gave it to her the day I was born. He used nearly all his savings to purchase it—as you can guess, head grooms didn’t make very much money. Anyway, she’d admired the box in a shop window, and Papa was determined that she should have it. So he had the shopkeeper put it aside until I arrived, and that very day he rushed down and bought it. I vividly recall how deeply Mama cherished that box; she kept it nearby all the time, sitting on her nightstand. Except on those nights when I had a bad dream. Then she’d bring the box to my room and open it, letting me listen to its beautiful melody—ʻFür Elise,’ my very first taste of Beethoven. Sometimes Mama would leave the box beside me when she tiptoed back to bed. Those times were my favorites. I could listen until the melody lulled me to sleep.” Gaby swallowed past the lump in her throat. “It’s the only possession of theirs that wasn’t lost in the fire.”
    This time it was Bryce who reached out, gently squeezing her shoulder. “The music box sounds lovely.”
    “It is. It’s made entirely of mother-of-pearl with gilt trim and a delicate stone in the center.” Feeling the reassuring pressure of his hand, Gaby gave Bryce a tentative look. “Perhaps, if you have time during your stay, I could show it to you.”
    “I’d be honored.” Bryce withdrew his palm, his expression pensive. “You’ve certainly given me a great deal to contemplate.”
    “Does that mean it’s time for you to answer my questions?” Gaby saw the perfect opportunity to lighten the mood—and to accomplish her goal, that being to learn more about Bryce Lyndley.
    He grinned, making a wide sweep with his arm.
    “Ask away. Where shall we begin, with my experiences in school or in court?”
    “What about in society?”
    A shrug. “Those are distinctly unexciting.”
    Gaby’s eyes widened in surprise. “I should think just the opposite would be true, especially of late.”
    “Of late?”
    “Yes. Oh, please don’t misunderstand. I thought your previous companions sounded charming,” Gaby hurriedly clarified. “But judging from the glowing accounts we’ve received, Miss Talbot is uncommonly poised and intelligent, not to mention incredibly beautiful. Why, one newspaper description likened her to a golden-haired fairy-tale princess. She’s always on hand to herald your accomplishments and to share your pastimes. You’ve escorted her all about London—to the theater, the balls, and of course the symphonies we just discussed. Then there are those carriage rides through the park, the sailing jaunts along the Thames. … Your courtship sounds exhilarating.”
    Bryce’s jaw dropped. “I don’t recall seeing such a comprehensive portrayal of my activities recounted in the papers. Who have you been talking to? What’s more, why in the name of