Page 23 of Entwined By Error (Madcaps of Mayfair #1)

The Woes of Being a Viscount

The coaching inn was foul-smelling, as though a corpse was rotting in the corner and the proprietor had forgotten to have it cleared out. Rats skittered across the floor in search of crumbs dropped by the patrons newly arrived from sea.

Daniel crossed to the bar, holding his calling card between two fingers. He allowed the man to see his name and then twisted it away, folding it into his hand. The letter he’d received had told him that Southwood was using the nickname from his youth. “Do you have a Tommy Northcott staying here?”

His brother rarely used his Christian name, and he never used the nickname, but the situation was dire. His whereabouts needed to remain unknown, or so his father had said when he’d apprised him of the situation.

He tucked the card into his pocket as he withdrew three quid, placing them in the proprietor’s outstretched hand as he waited for the information he sought.

“Third floor. End of the hall. He hasn’t left the room for two days, sir.”

Daniel withdrew another coin. “For your silence.”

“Never saw you nor Tommy, sir.”

Taking the stairs two at a time, Daniel found the room without trouble.

He knocked, and when he received no answer, he turned the knob and entered to find Southwood passed out, lying on his stomach with one hand falling over the side of the bed and a bottle of spirits clutched in the other hand.

Southwood’s face was covered with an untrimmed beard that looked as though it had been glued mistakenly to his chin instead of his head.

Pulling a chair across the room, Daniel sat and stretched his legs out to wait for his brother to wake. Tipping his hat down over his eyes, he allowed himself to drift off in an uncomfortable slumber.

He had slept for only a short time when he was startled awake by a pillow slamming into his legs. Daniel pushed his hat up, glared, and kicked Southwood in return. “About time you woke.”

“What are you doing here?” Southwood asked as he loosened the lid on his bottle and took a drink.

“Our father seemed to think you were in a spot of trouble.” Daniel made a show of looking around the room. “I must admit, he is right.”

“If you do not appreciate my living situation, then you may leave.”

Daniel yawned and stretched a little. “Is this what you consider living? One would think with your connections and title, you could afford better accommodations.”

“The earl has withdrawn his support. I am a man without the means to succeed in life.” Southwood took another drink and then lay back on his flat, sweat-stained pillow. “Go back to your wife and charmed life. Leave me to the mess I have made.”

“I cannot leave you here. With the losing streak you are on, you may well catch your death in this place.”

Southwood perked up a little. “I suppose this could be the end of it all.”

“A mere joke, and a bad one at that.” Daniel sat forward, pulling the bottle out of his brother’s hand. “Things will be brighter once you are home at Northcott Castle.”

“I cannot go home.”

“You can, and you will. I have a carriage waiting to take you to our parents.”

He decided not to add that the earl planned to lock Southwood in his bedchamber until he was free from the crippling addictions of gambling and drink. That information would only prove to enrage his brother.

“They will find me at the castle.”

“Who?” Daniel pulled his brother from the bed, forcing him to stand in front of the looking glass.

Southwood stumbled away, back to the bed. “Shomberg, Dresden, Powell, Cartwell. Those are the men to whom I am most indebted.” Southwood held to the bedpost, his gaze haunted as his legs shook.

Undeterred, Daniel poured water into the basin, determined to see his brother clean and shaved. “How large a sum?”

“I have lost everything. Worse yet, to rid myself of debt, I have stolen from our parents. When the earl discovers I have sold heirlooms from three different estates, he will toss me out on my backside.”

“Our father is aware of your underhanded dealings. He has not yet tried to disinherit you.”

“As far as you and I know.”

“Come now. Pull yourself together. You cannot very well see our mother looking as you do.”

“Mother?” Southwood looked about as though the countess were lurking in a corner. His voice broke as he turned back to Daniel. “She is not here. Tell me she will not see me in this place.”

“I have spared her the knowledge of your current whereabouts. Now, allow me to help you shave and dress. Before this day is through, you shall be home and safely hidden away at Northcott Castle.”

* * *

They waited until nightfall to sneak out of the coaching inn to the carriage waiting by the entrance. Southwood covered his head with a black cloak, disguising himself in case Shomberg had sent his men to discover his whereabouts.

Once they were safely on the road, Daniel allowed himself to relax.

He considered the money he’d received for the painting months previously.

He’d sold that piece to help his brother, and if the sum was right, he would gladly help Southwood out of this mess, as long as his brother promised never to gamble again.

“What sum do you owe?”

“It is impolite of you to ask.” Southwood smirked, his expression far more playful than the situation warranted.

“This is not a game, Southwood.”

“Keep your money, Brother. I do not want your pity.” Southwood sat forward and tapped Daniel on the leg. “Where is your wife? Will she also be at Northcott Castle?”

“Blackbriar Hall. I do not want her anywhere near your issues.”

Southwood sat back, folding his arms and crossing his ankles as he stretched out. “You worry that if she is near me, she will not think of you? A fair assumption, given she loved me.”

Daniel laid his head back against the plush cushion. “This is how you repay my generosity? You wish to wound my pride?”

“It is only a bit of fun, Daniel. Although if you had not stolen her away, I would not be in this predicament.”

Daniel sat forward, frustration coiling in his chest like a serpent ready to strike.

The accusation stung, his defense already poised on his tongue.

Then he caught the glint of amusement in Southwood’s eyes.

It hit him like a blow—the same infuriating smirk his brother had worn in their youth whenever he wanted to provoke a reaction.

There was a time when Daniel would have risen to the challenge, rushed to explain and belittle himself before the jeers could deepen.

But not now. He had learned to defend himself against his brother. Learned to respond in a far better way than half-hearted, self-deprecating apologies.

He sat back slowly, eyes narrowing with controlled indifference. “It is nice to know your talent for baseless accusations has not faded with age,” he said, voice smooth as silk.

“Then you have no apologies to give?”

“I did not steal her.” Daniel yawned, tired of Southwood’s little game. He had yet to tell anyone of his mother’s involvement in convincing the mystic to shackle his and Myra’s hands, and he certainly didn’t trust Southwood with the information. “It was a bit of bad luck.”

“For everyone involved. You were shackled with a wife, and I lost a fortune.” Southwood laughed so hard Daniel was certain his brother had lost his senses.

“An examination of the event will prove that Miss Astley is the only one who came out a winner. She wanted a respectable man, and that is what she married.”

It pained Daniel to watch his brother lament over the situation, until he reminded himself that it wasn’t the loss of a love he mourned; it was the loss of her dowry. “Do you have any new prospects?”

“I considered Miss Juliana Astley, but she is not as gullible as her sister.”

“A woman shows you grace, and you determine her to be a simpleton. That must make you feel very clever.” Daniel’s fists clenched as he noticed that Southwood still smiled. “Manipulating someone with more honor than you will ever have is not a triumph.”

Ignoring the chastisement, Southwood turned to look out the window. “There is an American heiress rumored to arrive in the autumn. Perhaps I shall have better luck with her. No brother to steal her away. Oh, and I have one more thing in my favor—she is seeking a title, not love.”

“Then I wish you happiness—that is, if you succeed in the matter.” Daniel closed his eyes, content in the knowledge that his brother was as much a scoundrel as he’d always been.

There was no rebuke stern enough to convince Southwood of the error of his ways, and if a woman was seeking a title, then they might just be a perfect match.

Upon their arrival at Northcott Castle, the countess ran out of the house, embraced both her sons, and then stepped back to look at Southwood.

Daniel kissed his mother on the cheek, then looked to his father.

He’d been given the charge to find Southwood and return him to their parents, and that was exactly what he had done.

The earl gave a nod of approval, and Daniel knew it was time he left.

He needed to go home to Blackbriar Hall.