Page 61 of Debtor’s Daughter

Chapter 17

Dear Larkin,

My father had his staff do some digging, and it appears Mr Thompson’s story is exactly as he informed you. He did a very lucrative deal with the East India Company and is a wealthy man indeed. Yes, it was precious stones and Indian textiles. From all we can gather, he is a decent fellow who always dealt fairly with everyone. No dirt, no scandal. I hope this is what you wanted.

―Excerpt from a letter from Mr Felix Knight (son of Mr Gabriel and Lady Helena Knight) to The Hon’ble Larkin Weston.

11thNovember 1850, Hyde Park, London.

Mr Thompson was as good as his word and not only called the next day, but every day that followed. Whilst Maggie and Caro chaperoned their aunt over the first few days of this long-awaited courtship, the billing, cooing, and reminiscing soon became more than they could bear. So, they left Wallace outside in the hallway, informing Mr Thompson that the door must be left open, and they expected him to behave as a gentleman.

To be fair, this did not appear to be an issue, for the man was so obviously enamoured of their aunt that he seemed entirely in awe of her. Maggie rather hoped this would wear off in time or Auntie might become entirely unmanageable.

Maggie’s own courtship blossomed more slowly however, as with all the excitement over Mr Thompson she had not seen Larkin alone since the day he hadn’t kissed her, drat him. However, this morning she was accompanying Caro to Montagu House, where her sister would sit as Larkin painted her. Of course, Aunt Connie was supposed to take turns with her, chaperoning Caro, but Connie was now far too busy getting reacquainted with her beau. Mrs Harris, Miss Barrington’s governess, had offered her services as chaperone, though, so Maggie might also spend a little time with the Lady Montagu whilst she was there.

They travelled to Montagu house together with Larkin, after a rather trying morning for Maggie. Between Caro deciding what she ought to wear to be immortalised for posterity and Aunt Connie dithering over the perfect outfit to see her darling Cecil, both Maggie and Sally were at their wits’ end by the time everyone was dressed.

Still, it was worth it, for Larkin proclaimed the bonnet Caro was wearing entirely charming and told her he was glad she had worn green, for it brought out the colour of her eyes.

Maggie and Caro went to pay a brief call upon Lady Montagu whilst Larkin prepared his materials for the sitting. They found her reclining with her feet up, a book in hand, and surrounded by flowers.

“Goodness!” Maggie exclaimed as they entered the room, realising on closer inspection that she was surrounded by orchids. Never having ever seen one such bloom before, to see such a profusion of them was stunning.

“Oh, Mrs Finchley, Miss Caroline, how glad I am to see you,” Lady Montagu said, smiling warmly as she saw the two women.

“But how beautiful they are,” Caro said, moving to look closer at the delicate flowers. “Wherever did they come from?”

“Montagu,” she said simply. “They’re my punishment.”

Maggie and Caro exchanged a look of bewilderment. “They’re a punishment?” Maggie repeated, wondering if they’d misheard.

“I wish someone would punish me with flowers,” Caro said with a sigh.

Lady Montagu laughed and shook her head. “Indeed, you do not. These little beauties are appallingly temperamental and die at the slightest provocation. Put them in a draught, they die. Too much water, they die. Too little, they die. Too much sun, they die. You get the idea, I trust?” she lamented, putting a hand to her head. “And they’re so very lovely, every time one of them dies I feel utterly monstrous.”

Maggie and Caro laughed, rather delighted by the Machiavellian punishment.

“Whatever did you do to deserve such torment?” Maggie asked, for as Lady Montagu had brought it up, she did not think it too indelicate to ask.

The marchioness, feet on a low stool, raised her skirt an inch, revealing a heavily bandaged ankle. “I climbed to the top of the library steps when no one was around—something Montagu forbade years ago, fearing I'd break my neck. They are rather high, I will admit. Well, I defied him, naturally, and overreached myself, trying to lean over for a book instead of repositioning the ladder. I slipped several rungs, though I did not fall, mind. But I did twist my ankle. So, this is Montagu’s riposte,” she said with a sigh. “He was so furious.”

“So now you must try not to kill them all?” Maggie asked, grinning.

“Yes. He’s far too clever for his own good, though he’s done this before, when we were courting. Everyone else sent me beautiful hot house cut flowers that were supposed to die in a few days, and he sent me one of these wretched things. I drove myself mad, reading every book I could find about the care of orchids, determined I would not have to confess to having killed it.”

“And did you learn to look after it and keep it alive?” Caro asked, her pretty eyes dancing with mirth.

“Of course not!” she exclaimed in annoyance. “The dratted thing died. Not that I admitted it to him until after we were married,” she said smugly.

“Oh dear,” Maggie said, pressing her fingers to her lips to stop herself from laughing.

Lady Montagu snorted at her expression and shook her head. “Don’t you worry, I shall get my own back. Just see if I don’t,” she said darkly.

At that moment, the butler appeared and announced that Mr Weston was ready for them.

Maggie and Caro got to their feet, promising to see Lady Montagu again later, and followed the butler to where Larkin was waiting.

Maggie met Larkin’s eyes as they entered the room, finding such warmth there that her heart did a happy little dance behind her ribs. For the next hour, he was all business, however, as he settled to his work. The time passed pleasantly for Maggie, who enjoyed watching Larkin work far more than the book she was pretending to read. Caro, however, was getting fidgety by the time he called a halt.