Page 41 of Entwined By Error (Madcaps of Mayfair #1)
The meadow was in full bloom, the scent of lavender and wild thyme drifting lazily in the summer breeze with a hint of the salty sea air as it drifted across the meadow, slightly shaking the leaves and the tips of the grass.
Myra sat in the shade of an ancient oak, her husband’s head resting on a pillow as he drifted in and out of sleep.
How he could find even a moment of rest with three children laughing and sometimes crying, she didn’t know, but she loved every moment of that peaceful morning.
Five years previously, she had believed herself doomed to disappointment, her dreams discarded like childhood fancies. But the years had proven her wrong. So beautifully, utterly wrong. If only she could reach back in time and reassure that frightened bride: This is where your joy begins.
The picnic was a bit ambitious for two adults, two young children, and a babe not yet a month old. The checkered blanket was littered with crumbled scones, half-eaten strawberries, and one extremely sticky raspberry jam spoon that had found its way into two-year-old Honoria’s bonnet.
“Honoria,” Myra said as she tried to hold back a laugh, “that was silk.”
Honoria blinked as she held her hands out, the raspberry jam spread across both her hands and her face, her wide-eyed innocence testing Myra’s reserve. “Pretty now, Mama.”
Adjusting the bundle in her arms, Myra settled Cressida on the blanket as she pulled Honoria onto her lap. “Allow me to help you with the jam, darling.”
Pouring a bit of water onto a handkerchief, Myra dabbed at the mess until Honoria’s face and hands were presentable once more.
She smoothed out the handkerchief, showing the embroidered initials to her daughter.
“This belongs to your father. He gave it to me when we were first married, and I have yet to return it to him.”
Honoria accepted the handkerchief and then crawled onto her father’s stomach. “Papa!”
Daniel’s eyes flew open as he sat up and pulled the little one into his embrace. “What does a gentleman have to do to have a respectable nap during a picnic?”
Before anyone could respond, he tossed Honoria into the air, bringing the little imp into a fit of giggles. Once he caught her, she squealed. “Again, Papa.”
Myra rested against the trunk of the tree, watching for only a moment when she realized their son, Arthur, had wandered away from the blanket. Searching the meadow, her eyes went wide as she noticed their four-year-old son was chasing after a goose.
“Daniel!”
As though the goose had realized a child was in pursuit, the beast spread its wings and let out a honk that startled both Honoria and Cressida, both girls instantly dissolving into tears and screeches to match that of the goose.
Daniel jumped up from the blanket, tossing Honoria into Myra’s arms as he ran from their little, once peaceful picnic. “For the love—do not chase the goose, Arthur!”
But it was too late. Arthur’s little hands were reaching forward, his love of animals guiding him as he attempted to pet the goose.
“Brilliant,” Myra muttered as she held on to her two daughters, watching in horror as her son attempted to show the goose a bit of love.
“Pray for me, Myra,” Daniel yelled, the fear evident as both remembered the last time he’d tangled with a goose.
“Do try to come out victor, this time, my love,” she called after him.
Instead of attacking, the goose honked once more and then took flight as though it was frightened of the sweet boy standing before her, or perhaps it was the anxious father running into the tall grass to save his son from the beast. Myra didn’t know which it was that caused the goose to flee, but all seemed to be fine—until Arthur took the flight of the goose as a challenge increasing his stride.
Arthur zigzagged through the grass, his arms outstretched, the summer air rent with gales of shrieking laughter as though it were a harmless game. The goose flapped furiously in front of the little boy, attempting to escape with its life, as Daniel’s coattails flew behind him.
“Cease your honking,” Daniel yelled at the goose right before he dipped down and out of sight.
Myra rubbed Honoria’s back as she hiccupped and then stopped crying. “All is well, darling. No need to fear.”
She trusted that Daniel would save their son from the awful fate he’d experienced years earlier, but even as she waited for her husband and child to reappear, she was worried that the goose had turned back and waged war against the young boy.
With a touch of nervous haste, Myra pressed the jam-laden spoon into Honoria’s hand, quite forgetting the chaos it had wrought earlier. The child, however, accepted it as if it were a treasure, her tears dissolving at once.
Just when she was ready to go in search of her husband and son, Arthur’s head poked up over the hill, followed by Daniel’s. The young boy was perched triumphantly atop his father’s shoulders, a wide smile brightening his features.
As Daniel set their son on the blanket, he met Myra’s eyes. “The goose has claimed the pond once more.”
She leaned forward, pulling a feather out of his cravat. She twisted it in her fingers and then kissed him on the cheek. “You were rather brave, husband.”
“I want it noted in the family Bible,” he said as he brushed flecks of dirt from his shoulders. “I saved us all from certain doom.”
Honoria climbed back into Daniel’s arms, nuzzling her head against his chest, the sticky raspberry jam spreading across his white cravat. “Brave, Papa.”
Myra looked around at their little family. Three children, a picnic of crumbs and sticky jam, and a beautiful estate. It was hers, all of it, and she wouldn’t trade a moment of her life for anything. “I daresay, Mr. Northcott, we have done rather well.”
“For a marriage contrived by my mother and a fortune teller’s shackles, I suppose you are right, my dear.”
“You are a better man than I ever could have found for myself.”
He grinned as he reached out and entwined his fingers through the tendrils at her neck. “And you are still too clever for me.”
“What do you think, Mr. Northcott? If you could go back to that day five years ago, would you dare enter the fortune teller’s tent again?”
He leaned forward and brushed a light kiss across her lips. “A thousand and one times, and then once more, my love.”