Page 34 of Debtor’s Daughter

“Did you have a pleasant visit with Lord Montagu?” she asked him.

“Thank you, yes. He sent his apologies for not coming to meet you, by the way. He’s rather busy this morning, and I was lucky he made time for me.”

“He’s an important man, and one who takes his responsibilities seriously, from what people say.”

“Certainly that,” Mr Weston replied with a smile, but he seemed distracted and not in the mood for conversation, so Maggie let the subject drop.

Instead, she listened to Connie, Caro, and Gideon chattering about the splendid time they’d had, and turned her gaze to the view passing them by. How different London was from home, and how she missed the manor. By now, the leaves would be changing colour in the woodland that bordered the estate, a riot of gold and yellow, red and orange, and there would be the scent of wood smoke from the many chimneys. Their parlour was the cosiest room imaginable, filled with old, well-loved furniture, covered in cushions, and woollen rugs to snuggle into on the coldest nights. They would sometimes roast chestnuts on the fire of an evening, and the kitchen always smelled of fresh bread. The sound of her father’s laughter and the scent of his cigars were never far away, and her mare, Starlight, would nicker a greeting when Maggie came to see her. That she would never hear her father laugh again, and that her beloved horse was in the hands of a man who might not be kind to her made sudden tears spring to her eyes.

Maggie blinked hard, nostalgia and longing filling her heart. She knew it was normal to feel such sadness, but it seemed ungrateful when she had so much to be thankful for. She’d had a splendid morning, visiting a marchioness of all people. Caro was to have the come out she’d always dreamed of, and even Auntie Connie seemed content. Surely, she had no business feeling homesick and so very sorry for herself. Taking a deep breath, she pushed the feeling away, reminding herself that Wallace and Mrs Goodall were with them now and she had many reasons to be cheerful in the light of such good fortune. Yet when she looked up again, she found Mr Weston’s gaze upon her once more, such sympathy in his expression that her throat tightened all over again.

“How is Mrs Goodall settling in? Did you have a splendid breakfast this morning?” Caro asked Mr Weston, which relieved Maggie as it took his attention from her.

“So splendid I fear I will need a new wardrobe in a matter of weeks. I think she believes I need feeding up in the manner of a Christmas goose,” he replied ruefully.

“Mrs Goodall does like to see people eat well,” Aunt Connie replied with a smile. “Oh, you must get her to make you her plum duff. It’s the most heavenly thing you’ll ever eat.”

“I shall, indeed, and to answer your question, she seems very pleased.”

“Does she? Truly?” Maggie asked anxiously. “I feared it might be something of a comedown for her to be a mere cook when she’s been our housekeeper for so long.”

“I think she is so relieved to be near you all, she’d take a position as a kitchen maid if it were necessary.”

“Dearest Goody,” Caro said with a sigh. “And Wallace too. I have missed them so much. They really are like family to us, aren’t they, Maggie?”

Maggie nodded but said nothing, fearing her emotions were too close to the surface and she might embarrass herself. Gentlemen did not like weeping women, that much she knew, and she did not wish to make Mr Weston ill at ease.

Still, she felt him watching her but dared not look up again for fear she was correct. What might her foolish heart make of this circumstance if she was, and what if she was wrong and it was lovely Caro he gazed upon with rapt admiration? What then?

So she avoided his eye until they had turned onto Berwick street and was startled when he addressed her directly.

“Mrs Finchley, am I to take it that you and the Misses Merrivale have as yet seen nothing of the sights of this fair city?”

Maggie hesitated but could only answer honestly. “No, sir. We have not.”

“Might I be so bold as to invite you ladies to take a little outing with me? Tomorrow if the weather remains fair. We could do a little shopping on Regent Street, and perhaps then go to the Parthenon Bazaar?”

“Oh!” Caro exclaimed. “Oh, Maggie, may we go? Please?”

“Why, that does sound rather marvellous,” Aunt Connie said, her eyes alight with anticipation for such a treat. “What say you, Maggie?”

Maggie stared back at them, unwilling to be the one to spoil their fun, and yet she turned back to Mr Weston with concern. “Are you quite certain you wish to? That you can spare the time? I fear we have been a dreadful trial to you already.”

“Not a bit of it,” he said, sounding so genuine she had no reason to doubt him. “It will be a pleasure to see the places I know so well through your eyes, and I shall look forward to it.”

“Well then. If you are quite certain, we should be glad to accept.”

Caro squealed with excitement. “Oh, thank you, Mr Weston! I have heard so much about the bazaar and longed to go.”

“You are most welcome, Miss Caroline. Indeed, it is worth it just to see your beautiful smile.”

Maggie’s heart sank at his words, and she scolded herself for a fool. This was why he bore with them, with her, so that he could further his interests with Caro. Of course it was. Why would he look at her, a widow with a son already, when her younger, far more beautiful sister was at hand. This was a wonderful development, she reminded herself and told herself she ought to be glad of it for Caro’s sake.

She only hoped that, if he was serious about her sister, he would hurry the courtship along, so she was not forced to watch it unfold before her eyes for months and months to come. Whilst she could not resent Caro for her good fortune, she was not so generous that she wished to watch the two of them fall in love. For it was plain to her now, despite all her best intentions, that she harboured some foolish feelings for Mr Weston: inappropriate, inconvenient, and very ill-timed feelings. But there it was. Admitting it to herself was hard, as it was far easier to bury her head in the sand and pretend otherwise, but she had never been one to run away from the truth. He was thoroughly splendid, handsome and kind and funny and talented and, whenever she saw him, it was as though the world became brighter and more colourful than it ever had before.

But even if Caro had not been the one, she knew better than to think he would choose her. It was simply his innate kindness that drove him to help them all and his desire to spend more time with Caro, and she would do well to remember that.

Maggie was sitting at her dressing table applying her night cream when Caro cracked open her bedroom door.