Page 36 of Entwined By Error (Madcaps of Mayfair #1)

The Past, which Refuses to Mind Its Place

The rays of the setting sun cast a glow upon the music room as Myra played the last notes of a waltz.

Silence filled the room, and for the hundredth time that day she let out a little sigh of longing.

Daniel had left early that morning to meet with his man of business, and she was terribly lonely without him.

Gone were the hours of purposefully avoiding her husband; now she wanted to always be near him. If he was in his study, she would work on her embroidery in the same room. If he was in his art studio, she wanted to walk out there with him and admire each stroke of the brush.

But to her dismay, he had left a note on the pillow next to her that morning, explaining the reason he had departed before sunrise was to return all the earlier to her. Yet, as shadows cast a dark hue across the room, she could not help but notice he was still away from home.

She let out another sigh and then searched through the music to choose another piece. She had decided upon an old Irish tune when a soft knock sounded upon the door.

“Enter.”

Mr. Melbourne entered, a silver tray in his hand. “There is a gentleman at the door, ma’am. I told him Mr. Northcott is not at home, but he refuses to leave and insists on speaking with you.”

Myra lifted the card from the tray. “Lord Cartwell?” She looked up at the butler, almost expecting him to provide an explanation, but when he didn’t, she accepted that she was the hostess of this impromptu visit. “Please have tea brought to the parlor.”

“Very good, ma’am.”

Myra didn’t know the visitor, but she had enough sense not to keep an earl waiting.

Smoothing down the front of her dress, she rushed out of the music room to the parlor where the earl waited.

Before entering, she stopped in the hallway to check her hair.

Tucking a strand back into one of her pins, she took a deep breath and then entered with as much poise as she could muster.

Poise had never been a strength, but she did her best. With a curtsy, she lifted her head to find the earl standing by the sofa. “My lord, I am sorry to inform you that my husband is not at home. He is away this evening on business and will not return for another hour or so.”

The earl’s hands were clasped behind his back, his polished boot tapping impatiently as though her greeting and the niceties of Society were unnecessary given his purpose at Blackbriar. His chin was high, chest puffed out as he slightly dipped his head.

“Mrs. Northcott, my reason for visiting Blackbriar is as much to visit with you as it is to speak with your husband.”

Myra crossed the room and took a seat, thankful that a maid entered at the same time.

Instead of allowing the maid to escape, Myra asked the girl to pour tea and then to remain tucked away in a corner.

She may not know Lord Cartwell personally, but rumors of his questionable pursuits had reached her hearing when last she was in London.

Lord Cartwell held back his laugh, graciously accepting the tea and cakes. “A chaperone, how quaint.”

Ignoring the barb, Myra clasped her hands in her lap. When she spoke this time, it was far less friendly than her greeting. “I cannot imagine why you wish to speak with me, my lord. Unless I am mistaken, we have not been previously introduced.”

“You are correct, Mrs. Northcott. Although, I am very aware of you.”

“Then, pray, do tell me what business you have with me.”

Lord Cartwell took a sip of tea as he settled back against the sofa, crossing one leg over the other as though he planned to stay for supper. “I wonder, Mrs. Northcott, when was the last time you spoke with Lord Southwood?”

Myra was thankful she hadn’t lifted her cup yet; her hands were still tightly clasped in her lap, hiding any jitters his question might have caused. “My husband’s brother?”

“The man you initially wished to marry.”

She let out a little laugh. “I am aware of my past.”

“Then you do not mind answering my question?”

“Not at all.” Myra forced her hands to cooperate as she leaned forward and lifted her cup.

She took a sip, placed it back on the saucer before smiling up at the earl.

Her smile wasn’t for his pleasure; it was more a celebration of her ability to keep her composure at such a time as this.

“It has been months. I have not spoken with Lord Southwood since I was last at Northcott Castle.”

Lord Cartwell narrowed his eyes, a shadow crossing his features as he assessed the validity of her words. She considered them truthful, given that she hadn’t spoken more than pleasantries with the viscount since his arrival at Blackbriar.

“Surely he has visited his brother.”

“You are mistaken, Lord Cartwell. Mr. Northcott and I are newly married. Our families have kindly kept their distance as we’ve navigated these first months as husband and wife.”

“Surely a man who was as smitten with you as Lord Southwood was would not have quietly walked away from his desires. Losing his love to a younger brother must have pained him.”

Myra considered what she knew about Lord Southwood. He’d never loved her; if he had, he wouldn’t have left her in his brother’s care. With this knowledge, she placed her hands in her lap as she returned his narrowed gaze. “Lord Southwood was in love with my dowry, not me.”

“I have no doubt you are correct, Mrs. Northcott.” The earl took another sip of tea. “Yet Southwood promised that money to me to cover his debts.”

“I am afraid my dowry did not land in Lord Southwood’s accounts.

If what you seek is payment for the viscount’s debts, you will not find my husband sympathetic to your request.” She stood, pointing toward the door.

“I trust you shall want to leave for the nearest coaching inn before the roads are too dangerous to traverse.”

The earl stood, bowed, and then took his leave. He was stepping across the threshold into the hall when he turned back. “I trust you shall send for me, if the viscount pays a visit.”

Myra bit her bottom lip, considering her response. “Oh, Lord Cartwell, I do not think my husband, or I shall be in any danger of receiving his brother any time soon.”

“Nonetheless. I trust you will send word.” With that, the earl quitted Blackbriar.

Myra excused the maid and then stood by the window, watching as the earl set his horse into a canter. He had barely exited through the front gates when Lord Southwood entered the parlor. “He will be the first of many to search for me.”

Turning around, she looked at the viscount, seeing him for the cad she now understood him to be. “Is it true? Did you promise my dowry to your creditors?”

Southwood sighed. Crossing the room, he sat where the earl had been moments before. “I am afraid so. My actions were quite shameful, and I apologize for mistreating you.”

“Do not apologize.”

“Why?”

“You are not in earnest. You only wish for me to believe you are repentant.”

He settled in, relaxing against the sofa.

His eyes lit up with mirth, the playful viscount she’d known during their courtship shining through the strained conversation.

“There was a time, Mrs. Northcott, when your eyes would soften in my presence. This anger you have for me is quite unnerving. I wish you would smile.”

She folded her arms, glaring at him. “How many of your creditors must I entertain and attempt to convince that you are not in residence?”

“There should be but a few more, if they choose to travel this far north.”

“We are not so far from civilization as you think, Lord Southwood.”

“Then you should expect at least a dozen or so.” He took a bite of one of the fairy cakes Lord Cartwell had left uneaten. “This is delicious; might you send to the kitchen for another cup? I am thirsty.”

Myra marched across the room, pulled the bell cord, and turned back to Lord Southwood. “I suppose Mr. Northcott and I should be thankful these men come in search of you and not the silver.”

“Your cleverness would be more charming if it weren’t so uninvited.” He took another bite of the cake and then threw the rest on the plate. “Cartwell might willingly take the silver as payment. But you will have to throw in a few Grecian vases to cover the full debt I have with the earl.”

She waited until a maid had brought in a new cup before responding to the viscount. Sitting on the sofa, she primly poured the tea and then waited until he had drunk his fill. “What must I do to convince you to leave Blackbriar Hall?”

Lord Southwood held his cup out, and she refilled it and waited as he drank again. As he settled back against the sofa, he met her steely gaze. “I left a satchel in the cave. The one with the large rocks concealing the entrance.”

She bit her bottom lip, curiosity quelling her frustration with the viscount. “Why did you hide it?”

“Retrieve it for me and I shall leave this little haven you and my brother have created.”

Myra refreshed her tea, filling it to just below the brim once more, and took a sip as she steadied her nerves. “Why do you not retrieve it on your way out of town?”

“If Cartwell sees me with it, he will kill me, take my possessions, and dump my body in the sea. It is best you retrieve the satchel and we hide the items in an unrecognizable bag. I shall wear a disguise as I leave Blackbriar Hall.”

“What makes you believe he will not kill me?”

“The earl is not here for you, Mrs. Northcott. His only desire is to find me.”

She stood and dipped into a half-curtsy. “I shall consider your request, my lord.”

Before she could escape, Lord Southwood called out to her. “Do not tell Daniel about the satchel. It will only prove to increase the strain between us.”

She nodded. Daniel had more than enough to think about, especially where his brother was concerned. She didn’t wish to cause him more distress. “I shall let you know my decision, after I have time to consider the matter.”

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