The Music Box by Andrea Kane Page A

individual staff members. As you’ll see, the entries have undergone very little change from year to year. However, in the ledgers we’ll be compiling for the current year, we must provide for several additional items with regard to Miss Gaby’s first London Season: namely, an extensive new wardrobe—gowns, accessories, and whatever else a lady requires for her debut—plus the commencement of dance lessons, coupled with her customary pianoforte lessons, of course.”
    Chaunce paused in his explanation, indicating the three thicker books on the bottom of the pile. “To continue. These three sets of ledgers contain information that is more complex than those I’ve just described to you. Rather than the day-to-day workings of Nevon Manor, they itemize the incomes received from Lady Nevon’s various properties, as well as the expenses necessary to run those properties. The estates concerned are extensive—including everything from Nevon Manor to the small Bedford cottage in which you were raised—and were, for the most part, willed to Lady Nevon by her late husband. The majority of them house tenants as well as servants. My suggestion with regard to these books is that you take them to your room and review them tonight, after which you can discuss the details with Mr. Averley when you visit Whitshire tomorrow. As the late duke’s steward, he’s handled the entire Rowland family’s more intricate household accounts for decades.”
    “Rowland,” Hermione interrupted, “is your … pardon me, is Thane’s family name.”
    “I’m aware of that,” Bryce returned stiffly, lifting the top four books from the pile and setting them aside so he could gather up the heavier ledgers beneath. “Very well, Chaunce. I’ll go over these three volumes in detail, first on my own, then with Mr. Averley.” Raising his head, he glanced at Hermione. “I want to understand the full extent of income derived from all your estates, including the rent you receive from your tenants. The more knowledge I have of your assets, the better able I’ll be to advise you, both on amending your will and on setting up Gabrielle’s trust.”
    “Excellent.” Hermione smoothed a strand of silvery hair from her cheek. “And speaking of Gaby, when do you intend to speak with her? Not about the trust, of course—I don’t want to cause her any additional worry over my health—but about our visit to Whitshire tomorrow and its purpose.”
    Bryce frowned, contemplating how he was going to relay a past he’d never before shared with anyone. “I suppose the sooner I confront this the better.” He set his jaw. “Let’s review the household accounts now. We can probably do a fairly thorough job before dinnertime. Immediately following dessert, I’ll take Gabrielle for a stroll. I’ll explain the whole ugly situation to her then.”
    “Don’t sound so grim,” Hermione appeased him gently. “The facts aren’t changed by being uttered aloud, any more than you’re changed by uttering them. You are as you are, Bryce: an extraordinary man who is willing to reopen his own wounds in order to help others heal theirs.”
    Bryce shot her a look, pulling up a chair and lowering himself into it. “I’m not nearly as self-sacrificing as you choose to believe, Hermione. Had anyone but you made these particular requests, my compassion alone would not have been enough to convince me. I would have long since been gone from Nevon Manor, my refusal echoing in your ears.”
    With that, he shoved aside the heavier ledgers and opened the first book of household accounts.
    “Spring is my favorite time of year.” Gaby paused at a budding oak, gently touching one of its newborn blossoms. “ ʼTis as if everything comes alive all at once.”
    “Hmm? Yes, I suppose you’re right.” Bryce’s reply was vague, his mind preoccupied with the conversation he was about to commence.
    He shoved his hands in his pockets, the brooding humor that had clung to him all