Page 27 of Entwined By Error (Madcaps of Mayfair #1)
The Assignment that Sparked Desire
Myra waited until her husband left for his art studio before she rushed up to her bedchamber. As she ran through the hallway, she spotted Melbourne. “Have my horse saddled and send Lucy to my chamber.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Not waiting for Lucy to arrive, Myra ran to the wardrobe and pulled out her riding habit. She was fumbling with the buttons on the back of her dress when her maid arrived. “Help me out of this frock.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Myra hadn’t been on horseback since arriving in Bardsea, preferring to stay away from the prying eyes and wagging tongues of her neighbors. What would they think if she were to be seen galloping along the shoreline without her husband so early in her marriage?
Not wanting to make a spectacle of herself, as she didn’t need the moniker madcap following her from London, Myra had been patient. But she had reached her limit. She had questions, and the only person she trusted to answer them besides her mother was her Aunt Kingsley.
When she was dressed, Myra left Blackbriar without informing anyone of her destination. Her husband cared little for her, leaving her alone day after day, hardly looking at her. She couldn’t bear the shame of her cold and shallow marriage any longer.
Myra rode hard, pressing the horse to go as fast as he could while keeping her balance upon the sidesaddle.
The wind tugged at her bonnet until it flopped uselessly behind her shoulders, pins scattering like breadcrumbs in her wake and leaving her hair, once arranged in the elegant twists of a morning coiffeur, a tangle of wild curls. But Myra didn’t care.
She was too busy rehearsing her questions, too busy trying not to blush at the memory of the countess’s interrogation and her own na?ve reply. She had made a ninny of herself, and if she were to survive marriage to Mr. Northcott, she could not afford to do so again.
Shame pierced her chest, and her stomach turned over as she thought about the fanciful dreams she’d entertained over the last week since she’d realized her feelings for him.
It was foolish to believe he might have thought of her in the same manner.
Now, she only had reason to regret her feelings.
He would never love her, and she would spend the rest of her life wondering how the man she had given her heart to could be so cruel.
As she came to a harsh stop in front of Kingsley Place, tears pierced her wind-worn eyes as her aunt and uncle rushed out of the house.
“Myra, dear, what has happened?” Her aunt’s frightened tone brought her up short until her uncle had pulled her off her horse and she had a moment to look down at herself. She was a sight to behold.
“I need to speak with you, Aunt. It is urgent.”
“Mr. Northcott?” Her aunt’s question stung a little, until she realized its implication. She’d arrived in a flurry of skirts and dust, her horse’s hooves thundering as though a ghost was nipping at his heels.
Myra took a deep breath as she fell into her aunt’s embrace, a cry ripping from her throat as she held on to her. When she finally pulled away, she wiped at her tears. “He is perfectly well, or so he was when I left Blackbriar Hall.”
Uncle Kingsley smiled down at her. “You gave us quite the fright, my dear. Your aunt threw her embroidery in the air in her haste to see you were well.”
“Indeed? Aunt, I do apologize for the fright. I only need speak to you on a matter of greatest importance.”
“Well, then, child. All the dramatics and it is only a question. I am intrigued. Do come in and sit for tea.”
* * *
Myra hadn’t realized how crazed she looked until her aunt sent for a maid to assist in untangling her hair. Once she was presentable, she sat across from Aunt Kingsley in a private parlor, sipping tea.
“We shall not be disturbed in here, my dear. Your uncle is likely in his garden recording the growth patterns of his flora and fauna.”
“He is quite dedicated.” Myra admired her uncle for the care he took in seeing to the gardens.
He employed servants who assisted him, but he was an enthusiast. Thinking about her uncle caused her to think about Mr. Northcott and his paintings.
He was talented, a master of the brush, yet he would likely never share that world with her.
“That is one of the reasons I love him so dearly.” Her aunt’s words pulled her back to the tea and cakes sitting before her. Myra lifted her cup, took a sip, and then placed it on the saucer once more.
“Do you not worry that he loves the flowers more than you?”
“Not at all.” Aunt Kingsley winked at her. “For he brings me a variety of flowers every few days to brighten my parlor and bedchamber. If he preferred the gardens over me, he should never snip the stems.”
Myra dipped her head as she considered her aunt’s words. Neither she nor Mr. Northcott had done anything to show affection since their arrival at Blackbriar. But she also didn’t think it would be appropriate to take flowers to him. “What do you do for uncle to show affection?”
“I request his favorite meals for the menu. If I find a book on herbs or fauna, I purchase it for him.” Her aunt took a bite of her cake, her eyes wide with mirth. “Is this all you needed to speak with me about?”
Heat instantly pierced Myra’s neck and cheeks as she lifted her cup, her hands shaking as she tried to take a proper sip. She’d rehearsed the questions ad nauseum on her ride to Kingsley Place. It seemed ridiculous to be so nervous, now that she was there.
Sitting up straight, she knew her face resembled a strawberry, but she didn’t care. Her aunt would not forsake her, she was certain of it. “No Aunt; indeed, I do have a very pressing matter.”
“Then you should say what you need, unless you plan to spend the night.”
Myra laughed, a hysterical sound escaping as she considered the gossip that would rain down upon Blackbriar if anyone discovered she had slept at Kingsley Place without her husband so soon after her marriage.
Calming herself, she shook her head. “No, I shall return home as soon as my inquiries are satisfied.”
“Out with it, child. What was so important you nearly caused your uncle and me an apoplexy?”
Myra let out a slow breath, her shoulders only slightly deflating as she sat stiffly across from her aunt.
For a moment she wondered if she should have stayed at Blackbriar and found a book upon the subject, for the library was extensive and there was likely a book on childbearing.
Now that she was there, it hardly seemed right to leave her aunt in suspense. Therefore, she found the words.
“The Countess of Hastings is concerned that I am not yet with child.”
Her aunt leaned forward and took Myra’s hand. “What does she wish you to do? Write to the Almighty and request he hasten the matter?”
Myra’s lips twitched as she met her aunt’s concerned gaze. “Perhaps God will make an exception for a countess.”
Her aunt squeezed her hand more tightly. “Your uncle and I were fortunate to have children, but it was not immediate. It took many years for me to find myself in the motherly way. Be patient, my dear.”
“I cannot help but wonder if I am not doing enough.” She took a deep breath as she looked into her aunt’s kindly face. “Perhaps there is something I should be doing, but I am unaware.”
Aunt Kingsley looked over the table and then poured more tea into Myra’s cup. “If heirs could be produced on demand, the ton would be overrun with dukes and debutantes. As it is, these matters come naturally with an affectionate relationship.”
“Perhaps that is the issue. Mr. Northcott and I have very little affection between us. Should I request he spend more time in the drawing room with me after supper?”
“Dearest, I do not understand what you are asking.”
“Aunt, you look at me as though I am daft. Mr. Northcott spends his days in the study or in other pursuits.” She chose not to disclose his art studio as she was not certain he would want anyone to know of his accomplishments.
He certainly had never divulged the information to her.
“We only see each other during meals. If we must be in the same room for a child to occur, then perhaps I can convince him to spend a little more time with me. Surely, he could not object, knowing his mother wishes for grandchildren.”
Sitting back in her chair, her aunt’s expression went from confusion to concern. “My dear girl, does not your husband show affection at night?”
Myra shook her head. She was not ready to divulge her growing feelings for her husband, and so she spoke carefully. “Mr. Northcott did not wish to marry me, and I am certainly not so lonely as to need his attention. We eat meals together, and that is all.”
“Then I am afraid a child shall never occur.”
“What?” Myra clenched her hands in her lap. “But my governess told me that a woman begins to increase once she is married. I am married. Surely the circumstances behind my marriage should not restrain the comfort of children.”
“Dearest,” her aunt replied with a tender smile, “if you wish for children, then I have a little assignment for you. You must find a way to encourage your husband to kiss you.”
“A kiss?” Before her marriage to Mr. Northcott, Myra had longed for a kiss. She’d imagined Lord Southwood would be the man with whom she would share such an intimate moment, but that had never happened.
“Yes, my dear girl. That is all I will share with you this day. If you wish to find yourself increasing, then you shall be required to start with a kiss.”
“You wish me to be so brazen as to kiss my husband?”
“Either that or convince him to kiss you.” Aunt Kingsley’s eyes sparkled, a glow of a most mischievous nature filling the air around them and making Myra shiver with intrigue over the assignment. “Once you have, report back to me upon the matter. I shall then give you another assignment.”
* * *