The Music Box Read Online Free PDF

and who clutched a garden shovel tightly in his hands; to the right, a leathery old chap who winced each time he shifted his weight; and between them, chatting incessantly first to the gardener then to the elderly servant, neither of whom replied, stood a ruddy-faced man with a wide mouth and an insufficient number of teeth, clad in an improperly buttoned driver’s uniform.
    Bryce had never seen such an unusual collection of servants in all his life.
    “Now then, let’s all settle down,” Hermione began, clapping her hands, her tone gentle and commanding all at once.
    Instant silence settled over the room.
    “I’d like you all to meet …”
    The library door jolted open, and rustling layers of green muslin tumbled in. “Forgive me,” the girl named Gaby proclaimed, gazing anxiously about. “I’m late, aren’t I?”
    Hermione had no chance to respond.
    “Miss Gaby—at last!” The awkward maid who’d been tripping over the Oriental rug stumbled forward, her round face lined with worry. “By now I’m sure you discovered the shattered pieces that are all that’s left of that lovely vase you kept on your nightstand. I can’t tell you how sorry I am for breaking it. You see, I was rewinding your music box when the edge of it accidentally bumped against the vase. I tried to save it, but I couldn’t catch it in time and—”
    “Marion,” Gaby interrupted, clasping the distraught maid’s hands and soothing her with the kind of wisdom and insight Bryce seldom beheld, much less perceived in one so young. “You did absolutely the right thing. In order to rescue the vase, you would have needed two hands and your full attention. And where would that have left my music box? I shudder to think. Given a choice between the two—you know very well where my heart lies. As always, you recognized precisely what to do. Your quick thinking saved my greatest treasure. And your honesty in relaying the truth to me proves yet again what a remarkable person you are.”
    The maid’s eyes filled with grateful tears. “I’m so glad you feel that way.”
    “I do.” Gaby gave her a conspiratorial wink. “Besides, that vase was big and unwieldy and took up far too much of my nightstand. Now my music box can stand alone, as it should.”
    “Miss Gaby?” The gnarled, elderly maid captured her attention, her tone as tentative as her stance. “Did you happen to have a chance—”
    “I received confirmation this morning, Dora. Your new walking stick is on its way. It will be delivered tomorrow afternoon. According to the merchant who crafted it, it’s twice as sturdy as the one you’ve been using.” Gaby gestured toward Dora’s cane—which, so far as Bryce could see, appeared to be in perfect condition.
    “Wonderful.” A smile softened the maid’s wrinkled face. “Thank you.”
    “You’re quite welcome.” Gaby’s gaze fell on the squinting footman, who was still groping through his coat pockets and muttering. “Bowrick, your spectacles are way down at the bottom of your left pocket,” she supplied helpfully. “There you go—you’ve got them.”
    With a warm nod in his direction, she weaved her way through the crowd, hurrying forward to where her aunt stood. “I apologize for being late, Aunt Hermione,” she resumed, a worried pucker reforming between her brows. “ ʼTis just all these petticoats …” She broke off, blushing. “In any case, I’m here.”
    “Splendid, my dear.” Hermione seemed not at all troubled by the unconventional entrance or the scandalous mention of undergarments. “Please.” She beckoned the girl closer. “Come here. Before you dash out of the manor to go scampering through the woods with your animals, I’d like you to meet Bryce. Bryce, this is my niece, Gabrielle Denning. Gaby…Bryce Lyndley”—the barest heartbeat of a pause—“my dear friend and business adviser.”
    Bryce stepped forward to acknowledge the introduction, noting that the enchanting young woman before