keys.”
“I can tell. Are you equally enthralled when others play?”
“Others?”
“I was referring to the symphony. Do you attend concerts often? I would think you’d revel in orchestral music.”
“I’m sure I would.” Anticipation shimmered through Gaby, an anticipation she had learned to squelch. “I often try to imagine what it would be like, hearing the collective beauty of the piano, the strings, the wind instruments.”
“You’ve never been to a concert?” Bryce’s brows shot up in surprise. “Why? Do you prefer the ballet?”
“I’ve never been to the ballet, either.”
At this point Bryce looked thoroughly stunned. “Why in heaven’s name not? London is only a few hours’ carriage ride from here.”
“That’s what Aunt Hermione says. She keeps insisting that we go. But thus far I’ve managed to discourage her.”
“Why would you discourage her?”
Silence.
“Is it because of her weakness?” Concern tightened Bryce’s hard masculine features. “Is Hermione so depleted that a mere trip to the ballet or the symphony would exhaust her?”
“No.” Hastily Gaby dispelled his worry. “It’s not that.” She hesitated, trying to find the most tactful way to explain. “Aunt Hermione is needed here. Many of the staff members become … upset when she disappears for too many hours at a time. She’s the foundation of our family, a family that thrives on constancy.”
“Are you implying that Nevon Manor’s residents never leave the estate?”
A small smile played about Gaby’s lips. “It’s not nearly as ominous as you make it sound, Mr. Lyndley. The truth is. they don’t choose to leave, not when everything that’s dear and familiar—and safe—is right here.”
“Safe,” Bryce repeated reflectively. “Odd, neither you nor Hermione strikes me as someone who would be intimidated by venturing into the world. In fact, I’d have guessed quite the opposite.”
His perceptiveness is uncanny , Gaby thought, studying his keen, appraising expression.
“Your presence here is necessary.” He verified her assessment by supplying his own answer, and Gaby felt a peculiar tightening in her chest.
“Yes,” she whispered. “Not only my presence but, more importantly, Aunt Hermione’s. Although she does make occasional visits to Whitshire,” Gaby added quickly, lest Mr. Lyndley think they were totally reclusive. “That’s Aunt Hermione’s brother’s estate—pardon me, her late brother. The duke recently passed away. Whitshire now belongs to his son, Aunt Hermione’s nephew, Thane. She’s always made periodic visits there, so the staff is used to it. Besides, Whitshire is a mere five or six miles ride from Nevon Manor. So her jaunts there take her away from us for only a few hours at a time.”
“ ‘Us’—don’t you go with her?”
A more familiar tightening, this time in Gaby’s stomach. “No. I haven’t been able to bring myself to—at least not yet.”
Realizing how odd her answer sounded, Gaby half expected Bryce to grill her further. But he surprised her, merely studying her pensively and murmuring, “I see,” before clearing his throat and addressing the original subject: “Perhaps I can conjure up a way for you to attend a concert without upsetting the staff. Let me mull it over for a while and see if I can devise an acceptable solution.”
Gaby felt a wave of gratitude—and a surge of hope. “Thank you, Mr. Lyndley. With your brilliant legal mind, I haven’t a doubt you’ll find a way. I can practically hear the first strains of the music.”
“ ‘My brilliant legal mind’?” Amusement laced Bryce’s tone. “That sounds like one of Hermione’s biased assessments. Let’s just say I’m resourceful.” He adjusted his frock coat, stretching out his long legs and crossing them at the ankles before turning back to Gaby. “Hermione says you’ve lived at Nevon Manor for thirteen years.”
“I have.” Gaby recognized that he was again
“I can tell. Are you equally enthralled when others play?”
“Others?”
“I was referring to the symphony. Do you attend concerts often? I would think you’d revel in orchestral music.”
“I’m sure I would.” Anticipation shimmered through Gaby, an anticipation she had learned to squelch. “I often try to imagine what it would be like, hearing the collective beauty of the piano, the strings, the wind instruments.”
“You’ve never been to a concert?” Bryce’s brows shot up in surprise. “Why? Do you prefer the ballet?”
“I’ve never been to the ballet, either.”
At this point Bryce looked thoroughly stunned. “Why in heaven’s name not? London is only a few hours’ carriage ride from here.”
“That’s what Aunt Hermione says. She keeps insisting that we go. But thus far I’ve managed to discourage her.”
“Why would you discourage her?”
Silence.
“Is it because of her weakness?” Concern tightened Bryce’s hard masculine features. “Is Hermione so depleted that a mere trip to the ballet or the symphony would exhaust her?”
“No.” Hastily Gaby dispelled his worry. “It’s not that.” She hesitated, trying to find the most tactful way to explain. “Aunt Hermione is needed here. Many of the staff members become … upset when she disappears for too many hours at a time. She’s the foundation of our family, a family that thrives on constancy.”
“Are you implying that Nevon Manor’s residents never leave the estate?”
A small smile played about Gaby’s lips. “It’s not nearly as ominous as you make it sound, Mr. Lyndley. The truth is. they don’t choose to leave, not when everything that’s dear and familiar—and safe—is right here.”
“Safe,” Bryce repeated reflectively. “Odd, neither you nor Hermione strikes me as someone who would be intimidated by venturing into the world. In fact, I’d have guessed quite the opposite.”
His perceptiveness is uncanny , Gaby thought, studying his keen, appraising expression.
“Your presence here is necessary.” He verified her assessment by supplying his own answer, and Gaby felt a peculiar tightening in her chest.
“Yes,” she whispered. “Not only my presence but, more importantly, Aunt Hermione’s. Although she does make occasional visits to Whitshire,” Gaby added quickly, lest Mr. Lyndley think they were totally reclusive. “That’s Aunt Hermione’s brother’s estate—pardon me, her late brother. The duke recently passed away. Whitshire now belongs to his son, Aunt Hermione’s nephew, Thane. She’s always made periodic visits there, so the staff is used to it. Besides, Whitshire is a mere five or six miles ride from Nevon Manor. So her jaunts there take her away from us for only a few hours at a time.”
“ ‘Us’—don’t you go with her?”
A more familiar tightening, this time in Gaby’s stomach. “No. I haven’t been able to bring myself to—at least not yet.”
Realizing how odd her answer sounded, Gaby half expected Bryce to grill her further. But he surprised her, merely studying her pensively and murmuring, “I see,” before clearing his throat and addressing the original subject: “Perhaps I can conjure up a way for you to attend a concert without upsetting the staff. Let me mull it over for a while and see if I can devise an acceptable solution.”
Gaby felt a wave of gratitude—and a surge of hope. “Thank you, Mr. Lyndley. With your brilliant legal mind, I haven’t a doubt you’ll find a way. I can practically hear the first strains of the music.”
“ ‘My brilliant legal mind’?” Amusement laced Bryce’s tone. “That sounds like one of Hermione’s biased assessments. Let’s just say I’m resourceful.” He adjusted his frock coat, stretching out his long legs and crossing them at the ankles before turning back to Gaby. “Hermione says you’ve lived at Nevon Manor for thirteen years.”
“I have.” Gaby recognized that he was again
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