by Music Box
“Doubtful,” Thane responded. “Whoever this killer is, I’m evidently not a threat to him.” A reassuring smile. “Don’t worry. I’ll be extra cautious.”
“That’s a good idea, Thane,” Bryce concurred. “I agree you’re not in any immediate danger, but still, keep your eyes open.”
“I intend to.” Thane cocked his head quizzically at his brother. “Is there a reason you aren’t leaving here until noon? It’s just ten o’clock now. You could get an earlier start—unless you have another appointment, that is.”
“I do.” Bryce met Thane’s curious gaze. “A very important appointment. With Gaby. I have a great deal to discuss with her.” His glance shifted to Hermione. “And, with your permission, I’d like one of those things to be Delmore’s murder. As Gaby pointed out to me last night, she’s not a child who needs protection. She has a right to know about events that affect her life—which this will, given that she’ll have to cancel any return visits she might have intended to make to Whitshire. She also has a right to know why I’m leaving Nevon Manor when I promised I’d stay. The others will forgive me a day of pressing business, so long as I vow to return. But Gaby …” A small smile touched his lips. “I don’t think she’d accept my explanation. In fact, I don’t think she’d even believe it.”
An understanding glint lit Hermione’s eyes. “You’re right,” she conceded. “She should be told about the murder—by you. For all the reasons you just named. Also, selfishly, I’ll be relieved to have someone other than Chaunce with whom to share this burden as well as to aid me in my crusade—that is, keeping the news from the others. Chaunce and I can intercept just so many newspapers. And Chaunce can restrict just so many conversational tidbits to the rear entrance when deliverymen arrive.” Hermione sighed, leaning her head back against the cushion. “Gaby is so softhearted and delicate, at times I forget how very strong she is. But I shouldn’t. She’s always been my sunshine and, along with Chaunce, my strength. She’s overcome a tragedy that would have destroyed most others. True, she’ll be heartbroken that an innocent man was killed, but she’ll take the news in stride, if only to help protect the rest of the family.”
“Not to mention that protecting the family will give her something positive to focus on,” Bryce added. “Something other than her sleepwalking.”
At that, Hermione’s lips curved. “Something positive to focus on? That job, my dear Bryce, I shall leave to you. And, as always, you shan’t disappoint me.”
It was half after eleven, the sun glinting between the branches of the oaks as it ascended to their peaks, when Gaby and Bryce reached the flat rock beside which they’d said good-bye a week earlier.
They’d walked here in silence, not a strained silence, but an expectant one, as if they both knew that the words they needed to exchange were too precious to be uttered in passing.
Gaby gathered up her skirts and sat down, beckoning for Bryce to follow.
“Did you get any rest?” she asked softly.
“I didn’t try to,” he replied, lowering himself beside her. “If you recall, I had a great deal of thinking to do. Besides, I wanted to make sure you slept undisturbed.”
“Thank you.” She inclined her head, gazed up at him. “I don’t want to discuss the sleepwalking. Not now. Tell me what great revelations you came to while I was asleep—and before.”
Bryce smiled. “Several. First, that I’ve either changed completely these past few weeks or that I never really knew myself at all.”
“Both,” Gaby supplied. She tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “You opened up an extraordinary heart that you only just discovered. And in return, you’ve acquired a whole new outlook—and a whole new family.”
“They are astounding, aren’t they?” Bryce concurred, staring off into space. “I couldn’t stop thinking about them when I was away: wondering how Peter was faring with my texts, how Marion had reacted to Goodsmith’s proposal, how Chaunce was faring during his nighttime vigils, how Hermione’s health was holding up.” A baffled shake of his head. “The entire week I was in London, my thoughts were in turmoil. Everything that had only days before been real suddenly seemed meaningless, and everything that had been nonexistent suddenly seemed essential. I felt as Alice must have when she was toppling down that tunnel into Wonderland.”
“But you’ve arrived.” Gaby laid her hand over his.
“Yes.” He gazed at her delicate fingers, his chest growing tight with emotion. “I’ve arrived, thanks to my new family, and you.”
“Does this mean you finally believe love exists?” she teased softly. “Not just compassion, mind you, but love—both familial and romantic?”
Bryce lifted her fingers to his mouth. “My beliefs have changed quite a bit these past weeks. I’m drowning in feelings and emotions. So, yes, I believe love exists. And not only in general. In me.” He pressed her palm to his lips, kissed it gently. “Ah, Gaby, I have so much to say to you, so much I need you to understand—so much I’m still in the process of understanding.”
With acute insight, Gaby studied his face. “I’ll begin for you. Something happened yesterday—something serious. Whatever it was, it drove you back to Nevon Manor. It was heightened by seeing all of us. It was also responsible for the intensity of your mood last night and for making you lose control the way you did. What was it?”
His head jerked around, and he gave her a stunned look. “Do you read my mind, Wonderland?”
“Sometimes. Mostly I read your heart. Now tell me what it was that affected you so profoundly.”
“I intend to. But first I want to clarify something. You were right when you said something happened, something serious, and that it drove me back to Nevon Manor feeling raw and vulnerable—a vulnerability that was driven home by the inspiring welcome I received. But you were wrong when you said it made me lose control last night. Only one thing did that: you. I wanted you so badly I was shaking with it. I still do.” Bryce swallowed. “All right?”
“Oh, more than all right,” Gaby murmured, caressing his jaw. “Perfect. You see, I felt—feel—the same way.”
An ardent silence.
“Gaby,” Bryce said at last, his voice husky, “if I take you in my arms now, I’ll forget everything on earth except you … us … how badly I want you. And there’s too much that needs to be said before I do that. So let me say it.”
“And then can I fling myself into your arms?”
“No. Then I’ll drag you into them.”
“Very well. Continue.”
Bryce drew a lingering breath. Then slowly, candidly, he told Gaby what had happened: Delmore’s murder, the police officers’ suspicions, his own doubts and concerns, the puzzling sale of the yacht.
As he spoke, all the color drained from Gaby’s face. “Murdered—my God.” She wet her lips with the tip of her tongue, clearly trying to bring herself under control.
From a distance, the sound of a slow-moving carriage reached their ears.
Gaby’s chin shot up, and she stared off in the direction of the drive. “You’re returning to London,” she announced quietly. “That’s your carriage Goodsmith is fetching. You’re riding to Town to see Mr. Delmore’s partner.”
“Sweetheart, I have to.” Bryce gripped Gaby’s hands between his, watching her face to gauge her reaction. “I’ll only be gone overnight. You have my word. I don’t want to leave you now, with all that’s happening between us and with the new recollections you have of the night of the fire. You need me. I want to be here for you. And, yes, I want to be here for us, for the family, and—most astonishing of all—for myself. But an innocent man has been killed, and if I can help determine why …”
“Bryce.” Gaby stopped him with a gentle shake of her head. “Stop. You don’t need to explain. I’m the one who keeps reminding you what a wonderful, compassionate man you are. I appreciate why you have to go. I’d do the same thing, if I were you. Dear God, that poor man.” She shuddered. “And his poor, grieving family.”
Gaby’s words awakened in her precisely the reaction Hermione had predicted. Bryce saw her back stiffen, saw a fierce, protective spark kindle in her eyes.
Slowly she pivoted to face him. “Thank you for confiding in me,” she acknowledged softly, aching determination lacing her tone. “Now I can make things easier on Aunt Hermione, help keep this dreadful news from the others.”
“You are too beautiful for words,” Bryce said fervently. “I have no doubt you’ll protect the family like a lioness shielding her cubs. As for your own situation, I don’t want you to worry about potential sleepwalking episodes. Hermione has already told me that she and Chaunce feel strong enough to take up their posts outside your door tonight. By tomorrow night I’ll be back to relieve them. And, Gaby”—Bryce slid his hand beneath her silky tresses, caressed the nape of her neck—“I meant what I said: we’re going to get to the root of your sleepwalking, and then we’re going to overcome it. I’ve already taken steps to do so.”
“Steps? What steps?”
“I’ve elicited Thane’s help.” Bryce went on to fill her in on his and Thane’s intentions.
“I thank you both,” Gaby responded in a choked voice. “I feel incredibly fortunate—and incredibly optimistic. With all our efforts combined, I have no doubt we’ll resolve my past, relegate it to where it belongs. You and Thane—” Abruptly, she broke off, sunshine illuminating her features, chasing away the emotional gravity of the past few moments. “Bryce, wouldn’t it be wonderful if helping me brought you and Thane closer together?”
Bryce smiled. “Only you would think of my relationship with my brother when we’re discussing your turmoil.”
Her dazzling glow intensified. “You just called Thane your brother. And earlier you referred to everyone at Nevon Manor as your family. Have you any idea how happy that makes me?”
“How happy?” Bryce murmured.
“Ecstatic. Overjoyed. Elated.”
Instead of laughing, Bryce became solemn. “I’m glad, because making you feel ecstatic, overjoyed, and elated is what I intend to do—not only now but for always.”
Bryce could actually see her breath catch.
“Gaby.” He drew her closer, tilted her chin up to his. “I have another reason for going to London.” He held her gaze. “I need to see Lucinda.”
If he expected dismay or even a token protest, he didn’t get it. Gaby simply nodded; instantly grasping the underlying meaning of his announcement. “You’re going to end it.”
“Yes. But I’d feel like a cad if I didn’t do it in person.”
“I understand.” Now came the flicker of remorse. “Will she be devastated?”
Only Gaby would feel sympathy for a woman she didn’t even know—one who, until now, had been heralded by the newspapers as the woman in Bryce’s life, his obvious and soon-to-be choice for a wife.
More fools they.
“No, sweetheart.” Bryce’s knuckles caressed Gaby’s cheek. “Lucinda won’t be devastated. Devastation is not something she’d experience—it’s far too strong an emotion. She’ll feel a trace of disappointment, perhaps a surge of surprise. Then she’ll consider my decision, acknowledge its merit, and move on with her life. Besides,” he added, with a rueful grin, “I suspect, considering my recent behavior, that she’ll be secretly relieved at our parting. Judging from her comments regarding my affinity for Nevon Manor, my fondness for its unorthodox residents, I do believe she thinks I’ve gone mad.”
A cloud of sadness crossed Gaby’s face. “That, of course, I can’t condone. Still, I feel for the loneliness she’s bound to endure.”
“I can promise you that Lucinda won’t be lonely. She has a dozen suitors waiting in the wings, all of them eager to compete for her affections.” Even as Bryce spoke, it startled him to realize how utterly detached he felt about a woman to whom he’d almost pledged his future. It just proved what a void he’d been existing in, how oblivious he’d been to his own needs.
Until Gaby.
“Lucinda is a charming and uncomplicated woman who knows just what she wants out of life,” he concluded. “She’s gracious, practical, and even-tempered; she’ll make the perfect wife and hostess for an equally uncomplicated man.”
“But not for you.”
A definitive shake of his head. “No. Most definitely not for me.”
Gaby’s smile was tinged with wonder. “In other words, she’s unable to feel the music.”
“Neither the notes nor the melody,” Bryce concurred. “Not now. Not ever.”
“I’m sorry for her.”
“I’m not. One doesn’t miss something one doesn’t know exists.” Bryce brushed Gaby’s lips with his. “On the other hand, one is eternally grateful when one’s heart is opened to music that has always lived inside him but has until now gone unheard.”
“Bryce—”
“Enough about Lucinda,” he murmured, capturing Gaby’s protest with his mouth. “Our parting will be quite civil, I promise you. After which I’ll be leaving the old Bryce Lyndley behind—not my work or my causes but the hollow shell of a man who existed a fortnight ago.” Another kiss, this one deeper, more fervent. “And when I return, I’m going to have a very important question to ask you.”
Tears welled up in Gaby’s eyes, trickled down her cheeks. “Really?” she whispered. “What a coincidence. I’m going to have an equally important answer to give you.”
“Gaby …” Bryce tugged her against him, his thumbs capturing her tears, wiping them away. “God, I don’t want to leave you even for a day. What I’m feeling …” He gazed deep into her eyes—exquisite, damp pools of cornflower blue. “It’s unimaginable, overpowering. It’s humbling, especially for a man who’s never believed such feelings were possible, never believed such constants existed.”
“Say the words,” Gaby breathed, twining her arms around Bryce’s neck. “Please, Bryce. I need to hear them.”
“I love you.” He tangled his hands in her hair, covered her mouth with his. “With every fragment of my newly discovered heart, I love you. With all the music you’ve awakened in my soul, I love you.”
“And I love you,” she whispered. “So much.”
Their kiss was heated, consuming, a bottomless wealth of emotion mixed with a burgeoning, spiraling passion. Gaby pressed as close as she could, shivering with pleasure when Bryce pulled her onto his lap, molded her body to his as he devoured her mouth in a series of hot, drugging kisses. She slid her hands inside his coat, savored the warmth of his skin through his shirt, and thrilled to the sensation of his heartbeat as it accelerated, slamming against hers.
“Gaby …” Bryce shifted, tumbled them both to the grass, then stretched out full length beside her, fitting her body to his. “I want you so much,” he muttered, wrapping her fiercely in his arms. “So damn much.” He kissed her mouth, the pulse beating frantically at her neck, the scented hollow of her throat, threading his fingers through her hair and savoring every inch of her exposed skin.
“Ummm.” Gaby’s eyes slid closed, her body vitally alive, her senses swimming with discovery. She was keenly aware of the cool grass beneath her, the warmth of the sun above, but mostly of Bryce, Bryce—his hands cradling her head, his mouth claiming her purposefully, possessing every inch it touched.
With a painful effort, he rose up, propped himself on his elbows. “One minute more,” he managed, his breathing harsh, uneven, “and I’m going to forgo every bloody principle I possess and make love to you right here, right now.”
“That sounds exhilarating,” Gaby murmured, opening her eyes to see his handsome face taut with the struggle for restraint. “Let’s abandon your principles.” She wrapped her arms about his neck, tugged him toward her.
“No. Let’s not.” Bryce caught her arms, gently disentangled them, kissing her palms as he lowered them to her sides. “When I make love to you, it’s going to be for hours, without the inhibiting worries of discovery and previous entanglements and pressing departures for Londo
n. It’s going to be everything you deserve, everything I want for you.” A muscle worked in his jaw. “Everything I never knew existed but am blessed enough to have discovered.”
Gaby kissed him ever so tenderly. “For a practical barrister who’s governed strictly by logic, you’ve turned out to be an impossible romantic.”
“True.” Bryce’s eyes twinkled, and he hoisted himself to his feet, tugging Gaby up beside him. “Appalling, isn’t it?”
“Intolerable.” She brushed blades of grass from her gown. “A most inopportune time for you to step out of character.” A dazzling smile. “Then again, not completely out of character. Your principles still govern all else.”
“I think not.” Bryce caught Gaby’s shoulders, drew her back into his arms. “In fact, I think when I return we’ll need to review some of those places you mentioned where couples go to be alone.”
Gaby giggled. “I’ll take copious notes while you’re gone.”
“Do that.” He tipped up her chin. “I’ll miss you.”
“I hate saying good-bye to you,” she answered fiercely, all traces of humor gone.
The sound of the carriage horses, stamping about impatiently, drifted to their ears.
“Go,” Gaby said firmly, countering her previous admission as she saw the indecision warring on Bryce’s face. “Do what you must. I’ll be fine—I promise.”
“And I’ll be back tomorrow—I promise.”
She laid her palm against his jaw. “I know you will. This time for good.”
Bryce captured her palm, pressed it to his heart as he leaned forward to kiss her. “I love you, Wonderland.”
Then he turned and was gone.
Gaby stood utterly still, gazing after him for a long trancelike moment. Then she strolled over to a solitary oak, leaning against its solid strength and peering through the grove of trees that overlooked the drive. She brushed a windblown tress from her face, watching as Bryce said his good-byes, climbed into his carriage, and urged the horses into motion.
It wasn’t until his carriage had disappeared from view and the sounds of the horses were no longer audible that she reacted.