Read Online The Music Box by Andrea Kane - Free Book Online

conversation with everyone, listening intently yet offering nothing of his own life in return. Immediately following the meal, he’d excused himself, returning to his chambers yet again, sending for no one but Peter.
    Gaby smiled, remembering how Peter had glowed when he emerged an hour later, a thick legal volume clutched in his hands. Why, his limp had been nearly indiscernible. And all because of the enigmatic Bryce Lyndley.
    With a sigh, she resumed playing.
    “Pardon me, am I intruding?”
    The object of Gaby’s thoughts addressed her from the music room doorway, and her head came up, her gaze darting over to meet his. “No, of course not.” She eased back on the bench, dropping her hands to her sides. “Come in.”
    “Please don’t stop,” Bryce requested quietly, crossing over to stand beside her. “You play beautifully.”
    His compliment sent a surge of pleasure coursing through her. “Thank you. I love the piano. I’ve played since I was six. Aunt Hermione arranged for me to have lessons the instant she saw how enthralled I became every time I touched the keys.”
    “You’re fond of Beethoven’s works?”
    “Very,” Gaby answered fervently. “I enjoy the works of many composers, but there’s something hauntingly beautiful about Beethoven’s musical pieces—at least to me. My sentiments are a little difficult to explain.”
    “You don’t have to explain.” To Gaby’s surprise, Bryce sank down beside her on the piano bench. “Music is one of the few things that must be felt rather than defined. Some people are capable of doing that, others are not.”
    Gaby studied him with solemn insight. “And you’re one of those who are.”
    A corner of his mouth lifted. “How would you know that?”
    “I just do.” A glimmer of humor shone through her gravity, sparkled in her eyes. “Let’s say it’s instinct—another of those things that must be felt rather than defined.”
    Bryce chuckled, a deep, husky sound. “A point well-taken.” He gestured toward the piano. “Please, continue. I’m enjoying your recital immensely. ‘Moonlight Sonata’ is one of my favorites.”
    “Mine as well,” Gaby agreed. “Beethoven was a perfect example of one who felt his music. Even though he was deaf, he was able to create his masterpieces. ʼTis as if the symphonies just echoed inside him, needing no discernible ear to affirm their beauty.” With that, she fell silent, her fingers repositioning themselves, flowing over the exquisite notes.
    All else vanished, and Gaby sank into the music, totally absorbed until the final notes of the piece reverberated through the room.
    “Magnificent.” The sound of Bryce’s quiet praise yanked her back to awareness. “And precisely what I needed. Thank you.”
    “My pleasure.” Gaby inclined her head quizzically. “Although, if I remember correctly, what you needed was rest. I assumed you were still in your chambers getting some.”
    “I tried—all day, in fact. It’s no use. My mind is racing and refuses to cooperate. So I took a stroll, hoping it would accomplish what hours in my room could not. Your music drifted out to me through the open window. It seemed to offer me the peace I craved. I hope you don’t mind.”
    “I don’t.”
    “Good.” Bryce leaned forward, gripping his knees and idly rubbing his forefinger over the fine woolen twill of his dark trousers. “I felt a bit self-conscious about entering the room when I did. You play with such emotion—it almost made me feel that I was intruding on something intensely personal. I didn’t want to invade your privacy.” A rueful smile. “But I suppose I did anyway, didn’t I?”
    “Not at all.” Gaby shook her head, sending a few stray tendrils of hair tumbling onto her cheeks. “I don’t mind company when I play, especially when that company is someone who appreciates Beethoven’s works as I do. In truth, I forget everyone’s presence, including my own, once my fingers touch the