Page 26 of Entwined By Error (Madcaps of Mayfair #1)

A Lifetime Compressed into a Moment

Daniel sat in his study, scowling at the clock on the mantel.

For the last three months, Myra’s daily tasks had been as predictable as the sunrise, until now.

Each day she had spent two hours playing the pianoforte and singing, inspiring the same musical pleasure within the house maids, who merrily hummed along while the footmen tapped their feet as they went about their duties.

He enjoyed listening to the music, her voice angelic.

The foolish part of him wanted to sprint down the hallway to discover if something was amiss.

But he wouldn’t behave so irrationally. It was possible she’d simply decided upon another task for the day.

He’d seen her embroidery that morning; the tangled mess of thread could occupy a year of time if she’d dedicate her hours to completing her sewing project.

The sensible part of him, the side that didn’t want to show her how greatly she affected his every thought, decided to sit in the study, hands clenched on the edge of the desk as he willed the piano to start making noise once more.

The argument with himself ended as a knock sounded on the door. Melbourne entered, one foot stepping over the threshold but not fully entering the room. “Sir, your presence is required in the morning room.”

“Have we a guest?” The tension of moments before instantly dissipated, the strain in his shoulders relieved as he realized there was nothing amiss. Myra was simply entertaining a guest, most likely the vicar and his wife or her aunt and uncle Kingsley.

“The Countess of Hastings is in residence.”

Daniel stood so quickly the chair crashed to the floor behind him. “When did my mother arrive?”

“She and Mrs. Northcott have been visiting. They have ordered tea.”

Tea. No harm could come from ordering tea.

Even so, he didn’t linger in the study. He marched dutifully down the hall to the morning room to discover the reason his mother would have traveled out to Cumbria when she had a wayward son to rehabilitate and more than enough social engagements to keep her occupied.

“Mother,” Daniel said as he entered the morning room. He kissed her cheek and then dipped his head to Myra. He hadn’t seen his wife since supper the previous night, taking care to avoid her at all hours of the day that didn’t include a meal. “Is father here as well?”

“The earl is still in London. I am alone on this journey.”

Daniel narrowed his eyes at his mother. “How very adventurous of you. And dangerous. There are highwaymen between Cumbria and London; are you not concerned for your safety?”

“I had a large complement of servants with me. No need to fret, my dear.”

Settling into an armchair across from the women, Daniel kept his focus upon his mother, not daring to look at Myra for fear she would see his desire to be near her.

The last thing he wanted to do was frighten his wife.

She would likely leave for her aunt and uncle’s home, never to return, if she realized the depth of his love.

“To what do we owe the pleasure of your visit?”

The countess didn’t answer his question as the door opened, permitting a maid with a tray laden with tea and cakes.

Once the maid was gone, Myra sat forward and poured the tea, her movements as trained and thoughtful to rival even those of a countess.

Daniel looked to his mother, waiting for her to respond.

“I shall not mince words, Daniel. I came for two reasons. First, your brother’s situation has only worsened.”

“Not surprising.”

“Southwood and Hastings are at odds. Your brother’s actions are unforgivable, yet he is the heir.”

“What has he done now?”

The countess looked to Myra, and then back at Daniel. “He attempted to win another dowry, but he went about it in a much different way.”

“How so?”

“Gretna Green.”

Daniel sat back, crossing one leg over the other. His eyes met Myra’s, and she stared back, hand lightly concealing a gasp of disbelief. “Then he is married?”

“I am afraid not. But the young lady is ruined. Her father has demanded a settlement, an amount the earl refuses to pay.”

“What am I to do about it?”

His mother took a sip of tea. When she placed the cup back upon the saucer, she met his gaze. “If you would but speak to your brother. Convince him of the error of his ways.”

Holding out his hands, Daniel pointed not only to his wife but also to the home. “I have more than enough to occupy my time, mother. And it seems my last conversation with him did nothing to persuade his actions.”

“I beg of you, Daniel. You and Mrs. Northcott are welcome to stay with us while you assist in sorting out this terrible ordeal.”

Daniel stood and walked to the window, looking out at the well-manicured lawn and the peaceful world surrounding Blackbriar Hall. “Southwood has never listened to me; what difference do you think I could make?”

“Your father and I are desperate to help him. But he does not listen. Please, Daniel.”

“I will think about it.”

“Very well.” The countess lifted her cup once more and took another sip. “Now for the other reason I am at Blackbriar. I wish to know when I can expect a grandchild.”

Daniel turned from the window, a smile curling at his lips.

He could splutter a response; it would be appropriate, given the cold sweat dampening the back of his cravat, yet he betrayed nothing.

Over the years, he had learned to swallow discomfort whole, to tuck it behind charm and measured glances.

“You must admit, Mama, three months is rather swift work, even for the most diligent of husbands.”

“Very true, Daniel. But I fear you have not been so diligent. Mrs. Northcott tells me she does not know how a woman becomes with child, as though she expects it to naturally occur if she drinks the right medicinal remedy. How is that possible?”

Myra turned her head so he could not see her expression, but a crimson heat spread up her neck and into her ears.

Daniel had unfortunately decided to take a sip of tea to hide his discomfort, but his mother’s claim of a medicinal remedy nearly broke through his cultured facade. Spitting the liquid back into his cup, he placed it upon the saucer with a clatter as he coughed.

Gathering his composure, he narrowed his eyes. “Subtle as always, Mama.”

The countess matched his glare, refusing to allow him to make a jest of her question. “Should I explain the process to her?”

“I was unaware you had taken such a scholarly interest in the mechanics of matrimony. Shall I send for a bit of chalk and a slate?”

“Do not mock me, Daniel. I want an honest explanation.”

“Perhaps we should speak in private.” He clenched his jaw, his mood souring further as his mother smiled at him.

“Privacy is not necessary, my dear. This concerns Mrs. Northcott as much as it does you.”

Taking a seat once more, he placed the teacup and saucer on the table. “Very well. If you wish to know the details of our marriage…” Daniel crossed one leg over the other, his focus upon his mother as he attempted not to look in Mrs. Northcott’s direction.

“I do not need details, Daniel. I simply wish to know what has delayed a discussion on children.”

He chanced a look at his wife; her face was red as she tilted her head downward, paying extra attention to the lace on her frock.

Clenching his fists, he said the first words that had plagued his thoughts from the moment he’d realized marriage was their only option.

“My wife is still in love with my brother.”

The silence was deafening. Mrs. Northcott’s eyes went wide as she looked at him.

She slowly shook her head, her lips forming a silent denial, but he didn’t believe her.

The words Southwood had said in the carriage as he’d dragged his brother to Northcott Castle still played in his head.

It had nearly ripped his heart out to say the words, but he knew they were true.

Myra loved Southwood. Knowing his own heart, he knew love was not so easily swayed when the heart had settled upon another.

The countess took a moment, her gaze drifting between him and Myra as she considered his words. When she was satisfied, she stood. Crossing the short distance to her son, she placed a loving kiss upon his cheek. “It seems the two of you have much to speak about.”

Daniel frowned. His mother had blown into Blackbriar Hall like a tempest swallowing the estate whole, and now she was leaving. She was as dramatic as the wrath of Neptune, and far more intuitive. Controlling his temper, Daniel turned away from his mother. “How long do you plan to stay?”

“I shall be leaving in the morning.”

“Such a long trip for so short a stay? It hardly seems worth the effort.”

His mother took his hand and placed her other hand on his cheek as she forced him to meet her gaze.

What did she see? Did she know how completely she had destroyed him with her questions?

He knew as he met her mournful irises that all she could see was a frightened son, a boy who had admitted his greatest fear, but instead of holding him and telling him all would be well, she was leaving him to carry the burden alone.

“I only wished to see you for but a moment. Now I must return in the hopes of assisting your brother with his troubles.”

Daniel pulled at his waistcoat. “I suppose I should accompany you, speak with Southwood about his situation. Attempt to convince him of the error of his ways.”

“I admit, that is what I had hoped. But now I see you and Mrs. Northcott should not be taken away from this blissful time together. It will not be long before Society decides to invade your privacy. As a newly married couple, you should not be disturbed just yet.”

“Mama…” Daniel only wished to reason with her. He stood and walked with her toward the door. Now that she had found the source of trouble within his own life, she couldn’t abandon him. She would never do that to Southwood. “Have you no words of wisdom?”

The countess leaned forward and whispered so softly even he had a difficulty hearing. “You are perfectly capable of wooing your wife. I suggest you begin.”

When she pulled away, Daniel placed a hand on her elbow, keeping her close.

In that moment he felt as he had in his youth the first time he’d gone to a ball and had been tasked the duty of asking a young lady for a dance.

He’d been nervous, but with his mother’s guidance, he’d done admirably.

With the same softness, he tilted his head to the side, fighting the gruffness that had entered his voice as his eyes watered. “What if she refuses me?”

His mother didn’t answer. She simply patted his cheek, then quit the room, leaving him standing across the room from his wife.

Daniel’s eyes fell upon Myra. In the moments he and his mother had spoken, she’d crossed from the sofa to the window.

She stood, her hands clenching the laced drapery, as she stared out at the beautiful morning.

Her breath was steady, practiced, as though she too didn’t want to give an indication of how this conversation had affected her sensibilities.

He had two options; he could leave to find solace in his art studio, far enough away to avoid the inevitability of this conversation, or he could address the topic his mother had so boldly brought to the surface.

Daniel Northcott was not a coward.

Crossing to the hearth, he rested one hand against the carved mantelpiece, the other clenched at his side.

A thousand words pressed against the back of his throat as he considered what he should and should not say.

Each word he attempted to speak seemed too much for the moment.

Too dangerous for this little world they had so comfortably fallen into.

But was it comfortable?

The silence between them was thick with all the things they needed to say, but neither one was willing to be the first to speak. He waited, the large grandfather clock ticking away each second, until he knew he must say something.

He slowly unclenched his fist and pressed his hand to his stomach, as if doing battle with the tea now staging a rebellion inside him. “If you wish,” he said with careful politeness, “I shall leave and allow you the peace of brooding in solitude.”

Mrs. Northcott turned to face him, her eyes already glistening with tears that spilled over in silent betrayal. “How could you shame me so?” she asked, her voice trembling. “And in front of your mother, no less?”

“Did I speak a falsehood?” he replied mildly, though his jaw was set far too tightly for true serenity.

She turned away, hugging her arms around herself as though to hold her dignity in place. “I am not now, nor do I believe I ever truly was, in love with Lord Southwood.”

“Ah,” Daniel said, folding his arms. “Yet you wished to marry him. Curious logic.”

When she turned again, the tears were gone, burned away by the fire now sparking in her gaze. “I was swept up in what I thought was love. He said precisely what I wished to hear. A charmer with the morals of a coxcomb, as my father would say.”

Daniel arched a brow. “A scoundrel, then.”

“A masterful one,” she said crisply. “But I now know the measure of Lord Southwood. I should never have been happy with him.”

He studied her, the curious way she hadn’t turned away from him after such a courageous confession causing a semblance of hope to shoot up like a small flower taking root. “And what of me?”

She blinked, confusion crossing her lovely features. “Pardon?”

His hand clenched once more, slow and deliberate. “What is your opinion of me, Mrs. Northcott?”

Her chin lifted, defiant despite the flush rising to her cheeks. “You have done nothing to endear yourself to me, Mr. Northcott. I think”—her tone turned ice-cold as though a gust of wind was blowing in from the ocean—“absolutely nothing of you.”

Daniel could see the lie in her face, but he didn’t understand it. Was it possible she cared for him? Choosing not to poke at her restrained falsehood, he gave a stiff bow. “How comforting. I do so love beginning my days with affectionate sentiment.”

Instead of finding solace in his study once more, Daniel left for his art studio.

He needed to put distance between himself and his wife; elsewise, he might be tempted to kiss her in an attempt to dull her sharp tongue.

But as he looked at the paintings waiting to be finished, he realized the desire had completely gone out of him.

Throwing his latest painting to the ground, he picked up a new canvas and stood with a brush in hand, waiting for inspiration to strike.