Page 33 of Entwined By Error (Madcaps of Mayfair #1)

The Truth about Family

“What has your wife done to you? Your face looks as mottled as an overripe plum at the Covent Garden Market,” Southwood laughed as he poured himself a drink. Holding up the decanter, he looked expectantly at Daniel. “Thirsty?”

“A bit early in the morning, do you not think?” Daniel entered the study, having just closed the carriage door behind his wife, more than a little disgruntled that his brother had interrupted the private moment with Myra.

He eased onto the sofa with deliberate care, mindful of the fresh bruises littering his back and arms. The skirmish with the goose was a memory that would not soon be forgotten as the pain radiated through his shoulders, a stark reminder of the attack.

“I have been awake all night; therefore, it is rather late for me, more like an after-supper port.” Southwood sat across from him.

“The last three months, I have lamented my decision to leave Northcott Castle instead of attending the bazaar, knowing that I would have won her dowry. But looking at you, it seems I am quite the victor.”

Daniel smirked. “She is rather sharp-tongued, but these bruises are not her responsibility.”

“Oh? Then I suggest you find a man to teach you how to duck when engaging in fisticuffs.”

“Certainly you have a reason for interrupting Mrs. Northcott and me.” He crossed one leg over the other as he watched his brother down an entire glass of brandy.

Southwood held the glass up as though he expected Daniel to play the good host, but he was sorely disappointed, frowning into the empty glass as Daniel stayed in his seat.

“I need to die, Daniel. My purpose in coming to Blackbriar Hall is to request your assistance in the matter.”

“Must we start with dying? Mayhap I should refill your glass and order a light meal.” Daniel stood, walked to the sideboard, and poured a drink, carrying the decanter with him and filling Southwood’s glass once more before he set it on the table.

“I am in earnest, Daniel.”

Daniel took a sip, then held the glass to his side as he swirled the contents. “Allow me to check my schedule. I’m dreadfully overcommitted this week; does next Wednesday work for you?”

“Your wit is not appreciated.”

“Well,” he said, holding up his hands, “tell me how we shall accomplish the task. Is it to be a pistol or a sword? Or”—he sat forward a little, a bit of intrigue lacing his tone—“the bloody bird that attacked me is likely still at the pond. No one would suspect a thing if you were to invade her territory. But while you are at it, please toss Mrs. Northcott’s bonnet back. She should like to have it returned.”

Southwood smiled, a lack of enthusiasm in his features. “You are in fine form, Daniel.”

“It is not every day a man asks me to assist with his death. Forgive my excitement upon the matter.”

“Have you worked out all the pithy comments, or do you have a few more to run through?”

Daniel sat back, considering the question.

“Only one more. Thank you for your patience.” He raised a brow as he tilted his head.

“How kind of you to travel to Bardsea to perish in my drawing room; I am flattered. Shall we invite the neighbors for tea so they can watch as you take your final breath?”

“Very well, now that we are finished with that,” Southwood said. He drank the contents of his glass once more before setting it upon the table. “As you well know, our father is no longer willing to pay my debts. He has cut me off completely.”

“I admit I am not surprised, though, I am sorry, Southwood.”

“Unfortunately, my creditors are aware of the earl’s decision, which means they have called in my loans. I am ruined.”

“Surely you have investments you could pull from?”

“I have done all I can. There was not enough to cover my debts. Not even the dowry of an American heiress could save me now. In truth, I am not so far gone that a generous dowry will not cover my debts, but the time it would take to get the money transferred into my coffers would leave me vulnerable.”

“And now you come to me, requesting my assistance with your death? I am pleased. Although, why not request a loan to hold off your creditors until the American heiress’s dowry is in your possession?”

“Addiction is not so easily defeated, with or without a dowry in my pocket.”

For a heartbeat, Daniel could scarcely believe what he had heard.

Yet when the truth settled, his heart swelled with a fierce pride.

At last, his brother had spoken the words that might begin to set him free.

“Have you considered joining the military? Perhaps the discipline of serving your king will help you defeat the desire for dice and cards. But if not, you can always rush a battle and find your spirit rising above your body.”

Southwood rose to his feet, a roguish glint in his eye and the ghost of a smile playing at his lips.

“Forgive me if I’ve been vague, but I’m not asking you to murder me, Daniel.

Merely to announce my untimely demise with suitable gravitas.

Say I was thrown from my horse. Ensure the details are dramatic, tragic, yet terribly common so as not to bring suspicion upon the matter. ”

“How terribly rude of you to allow me to relish the idea of sticking a sword through your heart or consider putting a few drops of poison in your port, only to find out it is to be a ruse.”

Southwood ignored the comments, focusing on his plan as he paced the room.

“For you to be witness, it will have to happen at Blackbriar, naturally. The location is remote enough, and the earl and countess would never reach us in time to demand a viewing of my lifeless form. You may bury an empty casket in the church yard, and our parents would take your word for it. And that is all. Thomas Northcott, Viscount Southwood, would be dead to all and sundry. I could begin anew. No gambling debts. No threat upon my life.”

“No name. No family.” Daniel shook his head. He wouldn’t do it, not even to save his brother from the debts he’d incurred. “I cannot condone such actions.”

“You owe me, Daniel.”

He laughed, certain his brother could not be serious. “I most certainly am not indebted to you.”

“Myra Astley’s dowry should have been mine. It would have saved me from the threat looming over my head.”

“Hardly,” Daniel said as he took another sip of brandy. “You would have spent the whole of it within the first month. Oh, and never forget, she is Mrs. Northcott to you.”

“She was supposed to be mine. My wife. My countess. My coffers should have had an increase.”

“You could never have made her happy.”

Southwood laughed. “And have you made Mrs. Northcott happy? Our mother seems to think you have completely ruined any chance of an accord with your wife. She daily laments the grandchildren she shall never have.”

Daniel ignored the comment. He pressed forward, focusing upon Southwood’s request. “Mayhap you should have put the dice and cards away and skipped the horse races. That would have saved you from this fate.”

Southwood ran a hand through his hair. “You do not know these men. They will kill me, Daniel. If you wish to see my lifeless body, then send me away. But if you have a semblance of brotherly love, accept my title and become the new Viscount Southwood, our father’s heir.

Assist me in this one last request. It is all I will ever ask of you again. ”

“Where would you go?”

“I shall not tell you, lest you get some crazed idea to seek me out.”

He didn’t have to think about it. All the sarcasm in the world could not convince him to do as his brother requested. Southwood was the elder son. His birth had earned him the right of his title, even if he was a blasted bounder with little to no morals.

“No.” Daniel stood, marched across the room, and took the newly filled glass of brandy away from his brother. “You will stay at Blackbriar, hidden away until you have overcome this addiction. No more liquor. No more gambling.”

“You cannot save me, Daniel.”

“Can’t I?” Daniel’s voice rose as he narrowed his eyes at Southwood. “That is all I have tried to do since we were young. Protect you. Convince you to see the error of your ways. But you have merely proven my folly in the matter.”

“I am lost to all good. Surely you know this.”

“No, I do not!” Daniel threw the glass into the grate, and then walked to the sideboard breaking every last decanter, including the one with brandy sitting on the table.

The smell of liquor as it seeped into the rugs filled the room, causing his mouth to water.

Crossing back to his brother, he took hold of Southwood’s cravat, pulling him close.

The pain in his arms and back were nothing in comparison to the panic gripping his heart.

He may consider his brother a spendthrift.

The worst sort of gentleman who would seek out an heiress to save himself, but he would not allow his brother to drift away into obscurity.

“Then save yourself from a newly opened deck of cards and a spirited colt fresh from the paddock. Come to your senses and fight for the life you wish to have.”

Southwood sighed, closing his eyes as he forced Daniel to release him.

“I have no fight left in me.” He stumbled to the sofa, throwing himself upon it.

“Even our mother has washed her hands of my existence. She sent me away, her disappointment clear as she turned her back on me. No one can save me.”

“Leaving when you will only make your way to another table to build more debt is not the answer.”

“If I disappear once, I can do so again.”

“Moving from one country to the next, racking up gambling debts wherever you go? That is not a life, Southwood.”

Southwood leaned forward, burying his head in his hands.

“You shall never understand. The excitement of winning is what drives me to try over and over until I have nothing left. My hands shake and my heart increases with the sound of dice hitting a table; the anticipation of a winning roll can make even the darkest of nights shine a little brighter.”

Daniel knelt before his brother, taking hold of his hands.

“I only ask that you try. You are welcome to stay at Blackbriar Hall. No one will know you are in residence. There will be no cards, no dice, no horse races. The liquor cabinet will be locked, and I shall allow wine with your supper and one glass of port each night. If we cannot break you of this addiction, then I shall consider doing as you ask.”

“What of the men who wish me dead?”

“They cannot murder you if they do not know where you are living.”

Southwood sighed, nodding in contrition as though this was the solution he had originally sought.

Silence descended upon them, allowing the heated discussion of moments before to settle. Southwood sat back, narrowing his eyes once more. His face scrunched up as he looked about and then focused once more on his brother. “Did you say a bird attacked you?”

“A goose, to be exact.”

“Well, will you at least show me where it nests? If we fail at breaking me from this habit, I shall take my chances with the creature.”