Read The Music Box Online

Authors: Andrea Kane

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Historical, #Regency, #General

The Music Box (13 page)

BOOK: The Music Box
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He chuckled. “No, you didn’t. But your antics weren’t intentional. The fact was that your affinity for animals overshadowed your sense of judgment.”

“It still does,” she admitted.

“In that case, I’d take Mr. Lyndley’s suggestion and accompany him, Lady Nevon, and His Grace to the sitting room. I’m not nearly as young as I once was, nor are the other servants. We wouldn’t want to have to organize a search party to retrieve you from parts unknown.”

“I wholeheartedly agree.” Hermione smoothed her skirts, giving Averley his first approving look of the evening. “In the interim, Averley, I’d appreciate your fetching whichever business records of mine you deem important. Once my conversation with Thane is concluded, I’d like you to fill Bryce in on everything he needs to know in order to put my legal affairs in order.”

“Of course.” Averley nodded. “Where shall I bring the records?”

“Is the music room convenient?” Bryce broke in to inquire.

Gaby’s chin came up, simultaneous with Averley’s puzzled “Pardon me?”

“I assume an estate this size has a music room,” Bryce repeated smoothly, his questioning glance on Hermione. “I was merely asking if that would be a convenient place for us to reconvene.”

A heartbeat of silent communication passed between them, so brief in duration that no one even noticed it.

No one but Gaby.

“What a splendid idea, Bryce,” Hermione concurred at once, satisfaction lacing her tone. “Whitshire’s music room, which is just down the hall from the sitting room, is warm and comfortable. In addition, it boasts a magnificent Broadwood grand piano, one I’m sure Gaby would enjoy seeing. Indeed, that is precisely where we’ll review the records. Averley, give us an hour. Then join us there.”

“Very good, my lady.” Averley took his leave.

Gaby swallowed, touched by the generosity of Bryce’s gesture. Regardless of how subtle he thought he’d been, she knew precisely why—and for whom—he’d suggested the music room. By securing her in an environment that, by her own definition, she deemed a warm haven, he was hoping to put her at ease, to alleviate the heartache she was experiencing as she confronted the demons of her past. Given the difficult reunion he himself was about to face, his display of concern was more than admirable—yet another clear indicator of what kind of man Bryce Lyndley really was.

In contrast, however, he neither expected nor accepted anything in return. Not from her, not from anyone. Of that, Gaby was certain. In fact, she was willing to bet that, with the exception of Aunt Hermione, whose financial support had served as his very lifeline from boyhood to manhood, Bryce had never accepted anything from anyone in his life. Not materially and not emotionally. Gaby was more sure of that with each passing moment in his company, and now that she’d heard the full details of his background, her conviction had strengthened tenfold, as had her determination to teach him the beauty of accepting in return, to allow him a taste of the give-and-take that defined caring.

The kind of caring in which she’d been enveloped at Nevon Manor, thanks to Aunt Hermione and the extraordinary staff that had become her family.

With that, Gaby lowered her lashes, studying Bryce as inconspicuously as possible, trying to decide how best to offer him the same comfort he was offering her.

Oblivious to Gaby’s thoughts, Thane had risen and was addressing Hermione with undisguised curiosity. “Now that that’s settled, shall we adjourn to the sitting room? Whatever this discussion is about, it’s obviously important.”


Very
important,” Hermione said with quiet emphasis.

Given that Gaby was scrutinizing Bryce so closely, she could actually discern the ever-so-subtle change in his demeanor effected by Thane’s words. His jaw set as he steeled himself, and his shoulders went rigid, a veritable soldier preparing to do battle.

Or preparing to defend himself in one.

Without further deliberation, Gaby acted. Casually she made her way around to the other side of the table, pausing before Bryce and giving his arm an indiscernible squeeze.

He looked startled, his chin snapping down until his gaze settled on her hand, then lifted to meet her eyes.

She gave him a soft, reassuring smile. “Have faith,” she whispered, wishing she could reach up and erase the grim lines of tension from about his mouth. “You’re not alone. Music rooms are but one type of haven. Solace comes in all forms, as do those who offer it.” With that, she released him, following her aunt and Thane into the sitting room, holding her breath until she heard Bryce’s purposeful strides behind her.

Once they were all inside, Thane shut the door, rubbing his palms together and assessing the others. “We’ll forgo brandy and the like and get to the point. What is this private discussion about?”

Bryce stood at the window, staring across the grounds, hands clasped behind his back.

With a sigh, Hermione lowered herself onto the settee, gesturing for Gaby to join her. “Bryce,” she said, addressing his profile, “the armchair is unclaimed.”

“I’ll stand.”

With a baffled expression, Thane gazed at Bryce’s unyielding back. “Lyndley,” he stated flatly, “like you, I pride myself on being a frank and intuitive man. So before we begin, I’m going to be as blunt as Averley was. It’s apparent that you resent me, despite the fact that we’ve gotten on quite well since your arrival. Why? Have I done something to offend you?”

“I don’t resent you, Your Grace.” Bryce pivoted slowly. “I’m just bloody uncomfortable about meeting you.”

“Why?”

Silence.

Hermione wet her lips. “Bryce … may I?”

A shrug. “Feel free.”

She nodded, clearing her throat. “Thane, we both know your father was a stubborn and difficult man. Sometimes difficult to the point of brutality. We don’t speak of it aloud, but we know it to be true.”

Thane looked incredulous. “I hardly think this is the time to discuss Father’s flaws.”

“I beg to differ with you. It is precisely the time. Because your father is at the core of this discussion
and
at the core of Bryce’s resentment.” Folding her hands in her lap, Hermione lifted her chin, speaking with the regal dignity that was hers and hers alone. “What I’m about to reveal to you is going to come as quite a shock. I trust you to receive it with a full heart and the realization that it was entirely my idea that you be told. Bryce was against it. And, given that he’s been privy to this information for over two decades, I think you’ll agree he’s had more than sufficient time to divulge the truth,
if
he had chosen to. Which he didn’t, for many reasons. Some of those reasons I concurred with, others I did not. Well, those that I concurred with died along with your father. Bryce has his own private reasons for remaining silent, which I understand but cannot accept. Out of respect for me, he’s agreed to forgo his own reservations and share the truth with you. It wasn’t an easy decision for him to make, nor will it be an easy truth for you to hear. Nevertheless, I fervently believe you must and should be told.”

By this time, Thane had gone pale. “For God’s sake, Hermione, what is it?”

“Bryce is your brother.”

“What?”

“I said, Bryce is your brother. Your half brother, to be exact.” With that, she proceeded to relate the entire story of Bryce’s birth and the controversy surrounding it, from Anne Parks’s futile attempts to elicit the late duke’s help to Richard’s brutal rejection of his child to the drastic abandonment that brought Bryce to Nevon Manor and, ultimately, to Hermione’s Bedford cottage and the Lyndleys. Without pause, Hermione explained how she’d provided for Bryce’s future, her tone firm and without the slightest hint of an apology for the actions she’d taken. She didn’t stop until she had disclosed every detail, right down to her summoning Bryce after Richard’s death. “So,” she concluded, watching Thane sink down on the sofa, his face chalk-white. “That is why we’re here tonight—at my insistence. For your sake and for Bryce’s. ʼTis time you met your brother—and he you.”

A hush settled over the sitting room, and only Gaby, sitting beside her aunt, could see by the trembling of Hermione’s fingers how much that speech had cost her.

Worriedly, she leaned forward, clasping Hermione’s hands in hers, terrified that this had all been too much for her aunt’s failing health. At the same time she sneaked a peak at Bryce, trying to assess his reaction to the events as they’d unfolded thus far.

Bryce hadn’t moved a muscle. His posture remained as stiff and unyielding—and self-protective—as it had been before.

“Thane?” Hermione pressed gently, looking from Thane to Bryce and back again. “You must have questions.”

Thane rested his elbows on his knees, clearly attempting to assimilate all he’d just learned. “Yes, I must. At the moment, however, I’m too stunned to think what those questions might be.” He inhaled sharply, struggling for the control he’d been trained always to display. “Forgive me. I seem to be at a loss. I …” He rose, raking his hand through his hair and prowling the room.

“Is it confirmation you seek?” Hermione asked cautiously. “Do you doubt what I’ve told you?”

“Confirmation?” Thane halted. “No, Hermione, what I seek is a way to make sense of all this. I hardly think you’d lie to me about something of this magnitude. On the other hand, Father did, didn’t he? Then again, the two of you are as alike as night and day.” A bitter laugh. “Of course I knew Father was a ruthless man. Still, I never imagined he was capable of something so monstrous. To cast his own flesh and blood into the gutter. … Even if he wanted to keep his bloody indiscretion a secret
and
to deny his child, why wouldn’t he allow you or some other trustworthy family to adopt him? How could he condemn a newborn babe to the streets or to a workhouse—or worse?”

“For many reasons. First, Richard didn’t believe that his indiscretion, as you put it, could remain hidden if Bryce was provided for—by anyone. A trustworthy family? Richard didn’t believe such a thing existed. He was convinced that those who adopted the babe would delve until they’d unearthed the facts surrounding the child’s lineage, at which point they would bleed Richard dry. And even if they were unable to learn the truth, someone else would— someone with the cunning and the wealth to do so and with the power to ruin the Rowlands. Why, in Richard’s estimation, the instant the
ton
caught wind of the fact that a newborn babe of unknown origin had been adopted, his secret was as good as out. Whispers would become speculation; speculation would broaden into prying. Eventually someone somewhere would piece it all together. The result? A scandal, something your father would never tolerate—for himself or for any member of his family.

“Which brings us to me. The very idea of
my
providing for Bryce, Richard considered to be not only the riskiest choice imaginable, but a flagrant slap in his face. He nearly exploded when I suggested it.” Hermione frowned, remembering. “And, Thane, in addition to your father’s obsession with averting a scandal, he was also convinced that your opinion of him would be tainted were you to learn that he’d been stupid enough not only to bed a green girl who was also a common actress but to allow her to conceive his child, to boot.” A disgusted sniff. “As if your opinion of him isn’t tainted knowing what he intended for Bryce. And with regard to his
allowing
Miss Parks to become pregnant, I don’t think she managed that particular feat alone, nor do I believe my brother was coerced into providing his cooperation. The fact is that neither he nor Miss Parks considered the possible outcome of their actions until it was too late.”

Another sniff. “And the last, but most significant, of Richard’s so-called reasons for disposing of Bryce was his supreme possession: his title. Given that Richard believed everyone’s values were as shallow as his own, he assumed that, were Bryce nurtured into manhood, were there the slightest chance he’d discover who his sire was, he would doubtless have challenged you for the exalted title: Duke of Whitshire. It didn’t appease Richard to hear my reminders that you were his sole legitimate son, nor that you were nearly a year Bryce’s senior, both of which rendered you the indisputable heir to the dukedom. No, my arguments fell on deaf ears. Richard was convinced that Bryce would fight you to the death in order to get what he wanted.”

Hermione shook her head, her gaze shifting to Bryce, her expression and tone growing warm with pride. “My brother was a cruel and arrogant fool. If he’d only allowed himself the pleasure of getting to know his second son, he would have realized that titles, fortunes, glittering jewels, and elegant estates—all of those are of very little value to Bryce. What Bryce values are the very traits he himself possesses: decency, compassion, and honor, all of which are inborn and can neither be inherited nor measured in pounds. Your father was a hard-hearted scoundrel who cheated himself out of far more than that which he deprived Bryce of.”

“And you’re an incredibly brave woman.” A bit of Thane’s composure and color had returned, along with a semblance of clearheadedness. “To brazenly ignore Father’s instructions, take on this quest yourself …” He jammed his hands into his pockets. “Why didn’t you tell me? I could have helped.”

“Impossible. The risk was too great. Can you imagine the enormity of Richard’s fury if he’d learned you were privy to my deception? He’d not only have destroyed Bryce and me, he’d have lashed out at you as well. I didn’t dare consider it.”

“I deserved to know.” Thane sounded more remorseful than accusing.

“Yes, you did. But you also deserved to be protected. I opted for the latter, for both our sakes. So if you’re angry with me, I understand.”

“Angry with
you
?” Thane’s brows shot up. “No, Hermione, to the contrary, I’m touched and amazed by you, by what you’ve managed single-handedly all these years. It’s my father I’m angry with. I realize one shouldn’t speak ill of the dead. Nevertheless, I cannot forgive him for this. God … a brother.” He turned slowly, focusing his full attention on Bryce, assessing him from an entirely new perspective. “We resemble each other,” he noted after careful scrutiny.

BOOK: The Music Box
13.28Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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