Page 3 of Entwined By Error (Madcaps of Mayfair #1)

The Inconvenience of Relations

Daniel Northcott knew it would be a gamble to leave London during the season, but he’d done so anyway.

Not only had he barely walked in the door at Blackbriar Hall, but he hadn’t even had a chance to speak with his steward regarding the necessary repairs that had pulled him away from the height of the social season before the butler, Mr. Melbourne, entered with a letter placed directly in the middle of the silver tray.

“Do not tell me. I will wager this pen knife that letter is from my father.” He held the pen knife up, daring Melbourne to accept the challenge.

“I dare not rob you of your belongings, sir.” He held the tray out, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. “Shall I have your trunk returned to the carriage?”

Breaking the seal, he took one look at the letter, laughed, and then threw the pen knife on the desk. “Ah, it is from my mother.” He shook his head and then read the missive. “It seems my brother has decided upon a match.”

“Indeed? Well, you will not want to miss the engagement party.”

“If there is one, Melbourne. Let us hope the girl has a keen eye and a nose for sniffing out fortune hunters. Southwood will have the entirety of her dowry wagered away on a horse race before it is transferred to his accounts.”

Melbourne didn’t respond. He never responded to Daniel’s quips about his brother—a sign of a faithful servant, one who would never speak ill of his employer. “Your trunk, sir?”

“Yes. Yes, I shall stay only a few days, see to matters here, and then leave for London. Although, it seems silly to be summoned there when Southwood has charmed the poor besotted girl into visiting our ancestral home. Nevertheless, my presence is requested forthwith so I may enjoy the festivities.”

“Very good, sir. I shall inform the staff.”

Daniel looked at the missive once more, his eyes falling upon the last of his mother’s words.

Miss Astley does not know the truth of Southwood’s situation. She believes he is in love with her, when the reality is, his love is for her dowry alone. Please come quickly, Daniel. Your father and I need your wisdom and support.

A sigh escaped as he crumpled the letter. Southwood had no shame, and Daniel had no desire to watch his brother swindle the young lady. Yet he would return to London if only to assuage his mother’s concerns as best he could.

* * *

His visit with the steward took less time than Daniel expected. In fact, they could have handled the matter through correspondence, but he was perfectly happy to have taken the trip to Bardsea.

Walking the well-worn path across his estate to a small greenhouse that he had turned into a painting studio, Daniel decided London could wait a day or two longer; he had business of another sort to see to before leaving the peace of his own estate.

“Mr. Thompson, thank you for meeting me on such short notice.”

Mr. Thompson pushed away from the door of the greenhouse-turned-art-studio, stretched forth his hand, and clasped Daniel’s. “I came as soon as I could. I did not expect you would have another painting for me so soon."

Unlocking the door, Daniel lit three lamps as he beckoned his man of business into the studio.

“A bit of a surprise for me as well.” He lifted a canvas from the floor, admiring the brush strokes.

He’d used walnut oil for this painting, grinding his pigments until they were fine enough to get the exact brush stroke to show his love for his subject.

He’d painted the likeness of Northcott Castle, a home he would never own, yet loved more than any other place on earth.

“I had a buyer who offered you a small fortune for that last year. Still cannot believe you turned the offer down.”

Daniel laughed as he turned back to his old friend. “Think you can get that same offer once again?”

Thompson narrowed his eyes at him. “Are you in trouble?”

“No.”

“Then why sell it?”

“It has been sitting here for over a year. Best to have it displayed for others to enjoy.”

Mr. Thompson removed his hat, throwing it on the table. “Are you sure you aren’t in trouble? A bit of debt hanging over your head?”

“Not at all, Thompson. I simply do not need the painting any longer.”

Thompson stepped forward and accepted the canvas. “I can get you more for it this time around. That buyer made a second offer only a month ago. Nearly double the last.”

“Then I shall accept.”

“Northcott, you would tell me if you needed help?”

Daniel patted Thompson on the shoulder. “I am perfectly fine. No need to worry.”

Thompson stayed rooted to the stone floor as he considered the situation. Shaking his head, he gave a low whistle as the details lined up in his head. “It’s Lord Southwood, isn’t it?”

Generally, Daniel didn’t care to discuss his brother’s failings in detail, but there was no denying his decision, not now that he had decided to sell the painting. “Deep enough in debt that he is swindling a poor girl into marriage.”

“Have you met the girl?”

“Not yet.”

Thompson laughed. “Then what makes you think your brother is swindling her?”

“Southwood never does anything with his heart. It is his pocketbook that drives his decisions.”

Thompson handed the painting back to Daniel so it could be wrapped for the journey. “Mayhap you should keep the painting until you are certain of his motives. The lady may well be in love with your brother, or she may be as shallow as he with a preference for his title.”

“If she is shallow enough to marry a man for his title, then I shall not offer the money. As it is, I know the earl will refuse to pay any gambling debts, and if I can spare a poor innocent from being taken in by a lout, I shall do so.”

“At the expense of your own desires?”

Daniel lay the painting on the table. He took one last look, admiring the shadows he’d carefully painted into the left side of the castle and the tree line.

It was a masterpiece, one he would likely never be able to replicate, at least to his satisfaction.

Dwelling upon it would only make him second-guess his decision; therefore, he pulled out a large piece of parchment and placed it over the painting.

“A younger son does not have many options in this world, Thompson. I am fortunate enough to have a talent that I can hide from Society and still make enough to subsidize my expenses.”

“His debts are not yours.”

“No, but I have a duty to my family and to the earldom. I may never inherit the title, but I must do what I can to ensure the legacy my father has built will not be destroyed by a blasted spendthrift.”

He finished covering the painting, tied strings around it, and pushed it out the door with his man of business.

“Where would you like the money to be sent?”

“Same account as always.” Daniel placed the painting with care in the carriage.

His hands lingered on the wrapped frame, the paper crinkling under his grip as he stared at the brown parchment.

For a moment, he considered Thompson’s wise words—Southwood’s debts were his alone, but Daniel knew there was much more at stake than the loss of a beloved painting.

Forcing his fingers to release the package was near torture, but he did it with a straight face and a tightened jaw.

“Send word once the money is deposited. I shall need it by the end of next week if possible.”

He watched as the carriage ambled down the road.

It took all his strength of mind to lock his stance in the dirt path rather than running after Mr. Thompson and taking the painting back, but he knew the better choice was to give it up.

He would pay Southwood’s debts, again, even if it cost him everything he’d ever loved.

Family, no matter how completely undeserving they may be, were more important than possessions.

He would have to remind himself of that each time he pondered upon the painting and its fortunate new owner.

* * *

The trip to London had been exhausting, but as Daniel entered the drawing room, he greeted his mother with a kiss, then stopped by the sideboard and poured a drink before settling onto the sofa.

“How are things at Blackbriar Hall?” his mother asked.

“Back in order, for now. I shall have to return this summer to ensure the repairs are underway.”

“I do wish you had requested a different estate from your father. Blackbriar is so far away.”

Daniel took a sip of his drink and then smiled at his mother. “I happen to like Blackbriar, Mama. The view of the sea is far lovelier than rolling hills.”

“Yes, but a full day’s journey is quite troublesome.”

“Then I trust I shall never expect a visit from you.”

The countess set her sewing in her lap as she narrowed her eyes at him, a smile tugging on her lips. “I understand exactly why you chose the estate.”

“You have caught me out. I want to live as far from Society as possible, alone on my estate with only the gulls and the geese for company.”

“Do not tease me, Daniel.”

He took another drink before asking the question that had plagued his mind since receiving his mother’s letter. “Southwood, in love?”

“Hardly.” His mother frowned as she looked at her hands. “I fear his wide eyes and pounding heart are for Miss Astley’s dowry.”

“What of Miss Astley?”

“The poor thing thinks your brother’s affections are genuine.”

Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair. “Why have you and father allowed this to progress?”

“Southwood is in a spot of trouble. The debts are mounting. I fear he is out of control.”

He would have made a pithy remark, something along the lines of Southwood’s self-control having taken leave in his youth, but sarcasm would do little good in that moment. “Then you think it wise to encourage the match?”

“No, I do not. Miss Astley is a sweet girl. She does not deserve the life your brother aims to give her.”

Daniel leaned forward, placing his glass on the table. “Then why have you not put a stop to the courtship?”

“I cannot defy your father.” His mother threw her sewing to the empty space next to her on the sofa. “Hastings is encouraging the match. He can see no other way to get Southwood out of debt without using funds from the estate.”

“Once the dowry is gone, how shall they cover Southwood’s new debts?”

“One problem at a time, Daniel.” The countess stood, placing a hand on her forehead.

“I must lie down. We have a ball to attend this evening, and I need to compose myself before facing that poor girl. Her happiness shall be destroyed if Southwood offers marriage. I only hope you can convince him to leave Miss Astley alone.”

“Where is Southwood?”

She sighed as she accepted the arm he held out, ready to escort her to her chambers. “Your brother did not return home last night.”

“You are exhausted, Mama. Suffering from a lack of sleep and constant worry will do you little good. Perhaps you should skip the gathering this evening and rest.”

“A silly notion, Daniel. You know we cannot snub Society and wish to stay relevant.”

“One evening will not hurt your reputation.”

She laughed as she patted his arm. “One evening could be the difference between finding you a wife or leaving you a bachelor.”

Daniel shook his head as he placed his hand over hers. “Do not concern yourself for my welfare. You have enough to think about with Southwood’s antics.”

They stopped walking, having reached her bedchamber.

She turned, her head bowed in concern. “What am I to do? He has lost his way, and no manner of speaking sense to him has worked. I pray each morning I shall wake to find he is safe, yet I fear a runner will arrive with news that he is lying dead in an alleyway outside a gambling den.”

With that cheery thought, Daniel kissed his mother on her cheek. “I shall find him and speak with him.”

“Do what you can. I fear it might be too late already.”