The Music Box by Andrea Kane

Author:Andrea Kane [Kane, Andrea]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Fiction, Romance, Historical, Regency, General
ISBN: 9781453265611
Google: zopGT2uZEboC
Amazon: 067153484X
Publisher: Pocket
Published: 1998-02-01T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10

WHOEVER CLAIMED THAT TIME and distance brought all things into focus was a bloody fool.

Tossing back his drink, Bryce slammed his glass down on the balcony railing and stared broodingly into the night sky, only minimally aware of the sounds of the ball commencing behind him, instead wondering if he had lost his sense of reason.

He’d been back in London for a week. Everything was precisely as he’d left it, yet nothing was the same. He’d come back to gain some perspective, to immerse himself once again in his life, his work.

Instead all he’d done was worry about Nevon Manor—Hermione’s weakness, the staff’s ability to function if she fell ill, and, most of all, Gaby’s sleepwalking.

Why had he become so irrationally and personally involved with these people? In comparison with his long-standing day-to-day existence, the three days at Nevon Manor had been an isolated speck of unreality, a deluge that had carried him into a wealth of unfamiliar circumstances amid a multitude of unfamiliar people. A lot like poor fictitious Alice when she’d been carried off by a river of her own tears, Bryce thought, his own analogy eliciting a wry grin. Hell, three days at Nevon Manor and he might as well have toppled down that rabbit hole to Wonderland with Alice.

Still, the “wonder” part of it was undeniable, he mused, rolling his empty goblet between his palms. Wonder permeated Nevon Manor, right down to the smallest detail.

The contrast had struck him full force the instant he arrived at his London town house and mounted the stairs to his bedchamber. Standing in the doorway, he’d scrutinized the room, seeing it as if for the first time—a pleasant blend of color and texture, rich walnut and tasteful decoration.

But a room; nothing more.

Conversely, he recalled the loving care and attention to detail that had been given to his chambers at Nevon Manor—the legal texts and other personal touches, even clothing that was designed just to his liking. All right, he admitted to himself. He’d become attached to the quarters and everything in them. True, it wasn’t like him to find comfort in possessions, yet those possessions were different, just as Nevon Manor, its owner, and its residents were different. As for the uncharacteristic nature of his response, that shouldn’t have surprised him. His visit to Hermione’s estate had resulted in his experiencing a wealth of peculiar responses—all foreign, some of which he was having a difficult time understanding.

Some of which he didn’t want to understand, only to dispel.

Those involving Gaby.

He hadn’t forgotten the unexpectedly startling way they’d said good-bye.

Forgotten it? Unlikely. The truth was, he’d dwelled on it incessantly from the minute he’d driven away from Nevon Manor.

And he was dwelling on it still.

What in God’s name had he been thinking of, kissing her like that? Had he been insane? And his self-censure didn’t only stem from the fact that he had a commitment to Lucinda, although Lord knew he felt guilty as hell on that score. More importantly, it stemmed from the decision he’d made about Gaby herself.

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