Entwined by error, p.4
Entwined by Error, page 4
Daniel had never worried about his station as a younger son until the moment Miss Astley’s fan had flown across the room, landing against his chest. The way in which she turned away, feigning innocence, had been his undoing. She was charming, and he was besotted.
It didn’t matter that she thought nothing of him. Since her fan had hit his chest, she was all he could think about. Her smile filled his dreams; her laugh, like the tinkling of crystal, invaded his every thought.
For the first time in his life, he wished that he were the elder son, the heir to the title—the one who could use his position as a catalyst to seek a courtship with the fair Miss Astley.
As it was, he had a decent inheritance set aside for his use. He wasn’t destitute, but he lacked the one thing every diamond of the first water seemed to want: a title. Even the daughters of gentlemen with no title in their family lineage entered the season with one goal in mind; snatching a man who could make them a countess, marchioness, or duchess.
Daniel sat in the library, a book in his hand, yet the words on the page were a blur as his mind replayed the few moments he’d spent in Miss Astley’s presence. Perhaps he had deserved the punch Southwood had dealt to his back. The bruise was more than enough of a reprimand for his traitorous thoughts. One thing was certain; if his brother continued in his designs for Miss Astley, Daniel would have to find a way to avoid any errant thought.
“When will the Astley family arrive?” the earl asked as he entered the library followed by Southwood. His father’s eyes fell upon Daniel, acknowledging his presence, but he didn’t ask his son to leave. Daniel closed the book; if his father needed privacy, he would gladly take the book to his private rooms.
Southwood flopped down on the sofa next to him. “We are to host the Astley family for a fortnight. They will arrive within the hour.”
Daniel stood. “I do not wish to eavesdrop.”
The earl stepped forward, patted him on the shoulder, then walked to the sideboard. “Stay, Daniel. This matter concerns you as well.”
Uncertain as to how his brother’s decision to con an innocent woman into marriage concerned him, Daniel turned to Southwood to find the same curiosity written plainly across his features. “What service am I to provide?”
“Astley and his five daughters will be our guests. I expect everyone in this family to do their part to make Miss Astley welcome.”
“I have no other intention, Father.” Daniel looked to his brother, surprised by his father’s request. “Although, is it not Southwood’s duty to see to the young lady’s comfort? He is the one seeking to win her dow—” Daniel smiled at his brother as he feigned an apology. “Oh dear, I mean, the one who wishes to win her heart.” He most certainly had not made a mistake in his words, but he did so enjoy taunting Southwood.
The earl nodded. “You are right. But we must make her happy, and if she discovers your brother’s penchant for games of chance, he may very well lose this opportunity.”
Daniel dipped his head. “Then the entire family is meant to persuade her to marriage? Perhaps he should treat her with respect; that, above all, would be the best option. Fall in love with her, make himself an honorable gentleman.”
“Am I to be constantly reminded of my mistakes?” Southwood asked, his voice rising in pitch as he narrowed his eyes, the haunted reality of his latest ruin still fresh upon his darkened features. “The baron fooled me into believing his horse was superior to all others, a prize horse. If you wish to be angry with someone, do that fellow harm.”
Daniel hadn’t heard about this latest venture. “What baron?”
Southwood waved the question away as though it were nothing to worry about. Yet it was a concern. He might not be heir, but another scandal, another night of losses, was certainly not what their family needed.
The earl stepped away from the sideboard, three glasses of brandy in his hands. He gave the first to Daniel, the second to Southwood, then he sat across from his sons. “You should have pulled your wager after the first loss. Instead, you continued to throw money at the horse until you had nothing left. Thankfully, you did not empty the estate coffers. Debtor’s prison is not an achievement, Southwood.”
Southwood drank the whole of the brandy and slammed the glass on the table next to the sofa. “Will Miss Astley’s dowry be enough to silence you on this subject forever?”
“Her dowry will cover what you owe the estate and the rest of your debts.” The earl swirled the liquid in his glass as he matched Southwood’s glare, their eyes locked in a war of wills, one that would not be won that afternoon. “Heaven only knows how you convinced the girl to visit our estate. It would have been best for you to propose and entrap her before she has time to think better of the situation.”
Daniel coughed, the brandy burning and catching in his throat as he stared at his father. If the earl was as set on the matter as Southwood, the poor miss hadn’t a prayer against such odds. “Pardon me.” He coughed twice, pressing a fist to his mouth until his breathing steadied.
“Mr. Astley will not allow an offer of marriage until she knows more about me. But it does not matter; Miss Astley believes we are destined to be together.” Southwood sat back, crossing one leg over the other as a pleased smile spread across his face.
“Miss Astley came to this conclusion on her own?” Daniel asked. He’d known Southwood far too long to believe he could ever give his heart to anyone. Southwood was a selfish, self-centered lout.
“I might have claimed to be in love with her.” Southwood brushed his knuckles on his lapel, the pride of his deception lifting his spirit. “Once she was convinced, she agreed to spend a few days at our estate. It will not take long to appease Mr. Astley’s concerns. I have no doubt we can send for a special license within the first week.”
“A quick engagement as well?” Daniel asked, emphasizing his concern as he met his father’s eyes.
He wasn’t surprised by his brother’s admission, but it did bother him to know Southwood could laugh about the entire affair. Poor Miss Astley would soon discover there was no love, and her dowry would be absorbed into the estate, leaving her with the title of countess, for she was marrying a viscount who would one day be the earl. Was it enough?
“Not every lady within Society can boast such an honor as a marriage by special license. Her friends will shower her with admiration.” Southwood shrugged, a sigh of boredom escaping as he rested his head against the cushion. “Not only that, but she will also have a title. That is more than most women of her acquaintance can hope. Mr. Astley’s connections are in trade, so her family relations are inconsequential. The only increase I will receive from this marriage is her dowry.”
Daniel rolled his eyes, making certain his brother saw the disdain. “She is a gentleman’s daughter and likely has many titled friends. How can you deceive her so?”
“Very easily, Daniel. One day you will do the same—that is, if you wish to secure your future. Otherwise, you will have to live upon your inheritance. What is it? One thousand a year.”
“Five thousand, and it is already settled upon me, so you cannot steal it.”
“Right…” Southwood waved his hand in the air as though he didn’t care. “Not that it matters. When I am earl, I shall have thrice that amount.”
The earl coughed, choking on his brandy as Daniel had moments before. “Not if you continue to squander our fortune on horse racing. You could learn much about finances from your younger brother.”
Southwood silently mimicked their father’s words, his motions exaggerated as he mocked the earl with his hands waving about. When he calmed, he glared at both the earl and Daniel. “If I wanted to be a prude, I’d take lessons from my brother, who wouldn’t take a chance if his life depended upon it.”
“I suppose the desire to live comfortably may seem prudish to a dashed sharper with the devil’s luck,” Daniel retorted. He didn’t mind that his brother considered him priggish. Managing his affairs meant he had the comfort of knowing he wouldn’t spend his life hiding from debtors and scraping the bottom of the barrel for his supper.
The earl stood, his face slightly pink. “Life would have been much simpler if Daniel were my heir.” He walked away, but before he opened the door to leave, he turned back. “Southwood, I trust you will not do anything to ruin your chances with Miss Astley. Treat her as though she were a queen, and you may well see her dowry in our coffers.”
“Of course, Father. I want her dowry as much as you do.”
The earl frowned. He looked as though he would impart wisdom to his son but then threw his hands in the air. “Keep Miss Astley happy, at least until you are wed.”
As soon as the door closed, Southwood turned on Daniel. “I need your assistance.”
Daniel knew he would need to summon all his patience to deal with any requested favors from his brother. “What is it?”
“Nothing so dreadful as what you are thinking.”
“Out with it, Southwood. I am not in the mood for your games.” Daniel took another sip of his drink and then rested the glass on his leg.
“Games?”
“You have a glint of mischief in your eyes. What is it, another horse race for which you haven’t enough to put down on the hopeful champion?”
“I have an obligation in town, one I must see to on the morrow.”
“Then it is another blasted attempt at winning. When will you ever learn?” He’d heard the rumors; he’d seen the betting books at White’s before he’d left town. He knew Southwood’s name was on the first line, a wager of five hundred pounds. “Hastings will be angry when he discovers you have lost another large sum of money.”
Southwood laughed. “I cannot lose this time. The horse is a known winner.”
“They are all winners in your eyes—that is, until they come in last and you are left without a pound to your name.”
“Spoil sport! Why must you always ruin my fun?”
“Does Miss Astley know of your gambling habit?”
“No. And I trust you will not divulge such information. She is to believe I am the dashing man she met in London. I have led her to believe I am duty bound to see to estate business.”
“I do not plan to ruin your chances, Southwood. You will do that on your own. I trust it will not take the young lady long to discover your unsavory habits.”
“As long as I have her dowry, she can be as disillusioned as she likes. The girl will be a countess with a monthly stipend that will get her as many frocks and comforts as she desires. We need not speak if she does not care for my choices.”
“Very romantic, brother. If you are successful in winning her hand, I am certain Miss Astley will regret her decision to marry you the morning after the vows.” Daniel took another sip of his drink. “What do you want from me?”
“This bazaar mother has orchestrated. I wish for you to escort Miss Astley, see that she enjoys the festivities, and draw her attention away from my absence.” Southwood narrowed his eyes at him. “I trust you to help me with this.”
Daniel sighed. “The bazaar is meant for you and Miss Astley to become better acquainted. It would defeat the purpose if she were to attend with me.”
“You know I despise this sort of thing.”
“Then why, pray tell, is our mother going to the trouble of hosting such a lavish event?”
“Miss Astley suggested the bazaar, and mother thought it a wonderful idea.”
A laugh burst from Daniel, tears forming in his eyes as he realized the absolute absurdity. Southwood was miserable, as usual. His brother was never truly happy about anything. But to entertain a prospective marriage to a woman who was similar to their mother, enough that the two women had planned a festival that was sure to drive Southwood to insanity, was too much for Daniel not to laugh at his brother’s expense.
“Laugh now, but one day soon, you will find yourself in a similar predicament.”
It took a moment for him to recover, but when he did, Daniel made certain to smile at his brother. “I doubt it. I have never done anything so foolish as you, and I do not intend to start this late in life.”
Southwood glared at his brother. “You will accompany Miss Astley the first day she is here?”
“Does that mean you have decided against my offer?”
“You know very well I have no intention of ending my courtship.”
“I will double my offer. Not only will I take care your debt with Shomberg, but I will absolve your debt with the baron as well.”
“Stay out of it, Daniel. My debt is none of your affair.”
“Yet you expect me to entertain your potential source of funds but keep to my own business. It is hardly fair. If I agree to this, then I must be allowed to tell you how deeply I disapprove of your sordid affairs.”
“Then you will accompany Miss Astley to the bazaar?”
He hesitated, knowing if he agreed to this, one day, he would find himself entertaining Miss Astley for the entire fortnight. But he also knew he couldn’t in good conscience allow the young lady to attend the bazaar on her own. “Did you not accuse me of having designs on Miss Astley? I should think you would want to keep her away from me.”
Southwood laughed and then he finished his drink. “I had already dipped into the cups a bit that night. It was an accusation born of fine wine and a mix of brandy. Please, Daniel. I never ask anything of you…”
“Never?” He could write a twenty-page list of all the times Southwood had made a request of him, but it would do little good to speak of it now.
He hesitated, knowing the only thing holding him back was the charming smile Miss Astley had shown when they’d first met. Could he spend an entire day with the enchanting woman only to allow his brother to offer for her hand? Perhaps a day with Miss Astley might be exactly what he needed to help him realize she was just another pretty face and he didn’t care a whit about her. The enchantment he’d experienced in the ballroom might quickly evaporate while at the bazaar, once he knew a little more about her.
“Very well, I will do it, but only so I can convince her of all the booths and curiosities you will love to visit on the following morning. Bright and early.”
“Very well.” Southwood stood, clapping his hands as he always did when he had achieved his aims. He nodded his thanks and then left.
The library was soon back to the silent room it had been before the interruption, a clock ticking away the seconds on the mantel as a light spring breeze caused the tree branches to scrape against one of the windows. Daniel opened his book once more and settled in for an afternoon of solitude.
Chapter 6
Flambéed, Alongside the Tipsy Cake
Myra didn’t know what to expect upon entering Northcott Castle, but the grand halls filled with oversized paintings; a large, marbled staircase; and ancient gold vases were more decadent than what she’d expected. Her breath caught in her throat with each step, her mouth gaping as she took in the beauty that was Northcott Castle.
Thankfully, upon her entrance, Lord Southwood stood by her side, guiding her to his waiting family; otherwise, she would have stopped at each vase and painting so she could examine them. Myra curtsied to the earl and countess and then to Mr. Northcott. When she looked at Mr. Northcott, the embarrassment of throwing the fan at him burned in her chest, causing her to blush. One word from his mouth upon the matter would make the next fortnight intolerable, but it was as though he had completely forgotten. His face was impassive, his jaw tight as though her visit was of little consequence and not important enough to elicit more than a nod of acknowledgement.
Mr. Northcott looked more like the earl than Southwood, but that was only due to his striking stance, piercing blue eyes that reminded her of the ocean, and ash-brown hair. “Mr. Northcott, how nice to see you again.”
“Welcome to Northcott Castle, Miss Astley.” Daniel Northcott dipped his head only slightly, an air of superiority about him that she hadn’t noticed the first time they had met.
Looking up at Southwood, Myra admired his blond hair and brown eyes. He was the image of his mother, which was far more pleasing, in her estimation. Not for the first time, images of blond-haired children ran through her mind as she gazed upon the man she loved. “My family and I are most thankful for the invitation.”
Lord Southwood flashed a smile at her, the one that had stolen her heart the first time they’d met at Almack’s. “There will be much to do while you are here. The bazaar begins on the morrow, and we shall have many supper parties, and a ball as a proper end to your visit.”
She blushed, the happiness in Lord Southwood’s expression a boon to her heart. She’d fretted the entirety of their trip, worrying about this visit and the reception, especially since he’d left town so quickly after the last ball. But now that she was here, her hand resting atop his arm, she knew that she was the most fortunate of all women in Society. Lord Southwood wished for her to spend time at his home with the expectation of an offer of marriage. It was more than she could have hoped. He lifted her hand to his mouth, placing a soft kiss upon her knuckles. As she demurred, her eyes diverting to the floor, her father continued by introducing the rest of her family.
She had four sisters—Juliana, Rose, Cecilia, and Esther. Her mother and father were thrilled about this little party. Their expectations were much the same as Myra’s; if all went as planned, her sisters would experience a boost within the ton far beyond what their dowries had already provided. With this elevation in Society, her sisters would find themselves the recipients of the most prestigious invitations, balls, garden parties, card parties, and nights at the theater. All of it would be made possible by her marriage to a viscount—that is if he determined they were a match after this next fortnight.
“You must be exhausted from your travels. An afternoon of rest, and then we will discuss the activities for the morrow.” The countess escorted them out of the parlor, leading her family up to their rooms.
