Page 63 of Debtor’s Daughter

“I am,” she said. “I beg your pardon, I was only wool gathering. How is the painting progressing?”

“Well, it’s not a painting yet,” he said with a laugh. “I’m just sketching the composition in, making sure everything is balanced, and trying to capture Miss Caroline’s likeness. With luck, I might start painting tomorrow and I shan’t need her to sit every day.”

Maggie nodded, rather disappointed that she would not be in Larkin’s company more often.

Larkin glanced over at Caro and grinned as she gave a soft snore. He looked up and Maggie and patted the seat beside him. She shook her head, looking nervously at Caro, who did indeed appear to be fast asleep.

“Coward,” Larkin taunted.

Maggie glared at him. Though she hardly knew how she dared, she got to her feet just as the carriage lurched to one side on the uneven road. Maggie gasped, overbalanced, and fell heavily into Larkin’s lap.

“Ooof!” he muttered, giving a strangled groan as she wriggled, trying desperately to get up. “Oh, no you don’t,” he said, sounding a trifle breathless, but holding onto her waist. “I’ve got you now and I don’t intend to let you go.”

“Larkin!” Maggie exclaimed in an undertone. “We can’t, not with—”

Larkin pressed a finger to her lips, silencing her.

“Now, then. I finally have your undivided attention.”

Maggie snorted. “You had that several days ago and did not bother to take advantage of it. So it’s hardly my fault.”

“Ah, still cross with me for not kissing you, I take it?”

“No,” Maggie retorted with dignity. A big fat lie, but she wasn’t about to admit to that. “It’s no trouble to me whether or not you wish to kiss me.”

“It isn’t?” Larkin asked innocently. “Oh, well. In that case, I won’t bother. I don’t go about kissing women who do not sincerely desire me to do so.”

“Oh!” Maggie said, indignant. “You are the outside of enough. Now you just listen here,” she said crossly, before thinking better of her words and grasping hold of his lapels.

Leaning in, she pressed her mouth hard to his and then pulled back with a gasp, as she realised how horribly bold she was being. But as she covered her mouth with her hand, she saw the slow grin dawning on Larkin’s face, and the delight glittering in his dark eyes.

“Why Mrs Finchley, I do believe you want me to kiss you after all.”

“Oh, finally you catch on. I was beginning to think I must take out a notice in the paper to make you—”

Maggie gasped as his mouth covered hers, his arms pulling her close. She melted, only too ready to submit as the feeling of being held close, securely against a man she trusted. He swept away so much of the misery and anxiety of the past months, kissing her deeply, tenderly, one hand cradling her face as though he held something precious.

When he finally pulled back, she was trembling.

“Much as it pains me to say this, you’d better return to your seat. This is Berwick Street,” he said with obvious regret.

Maggie smothered a squeak of alarm and flung herself back down on the opposite seat just as the carriage drew to a halt.

Caro stretched and yawned sleepily. “Are we there yet?”

“Yes, dear,” Maggie said, smoothing her skirts with agitation and glaring at Larkin for not having warned her sooner.

He winked and she bit back a smile. How she wished the journey had been longer, that Caro had not been with them, that she could have stayed in his arms for the rest of the day. She looked away from him but some of what she felt must have been visible in her expression, for when he handed her down from the carriage, Larkin’s eyes were dark and full of unspoken need as he held her gaze, making her blush scarlet.

“Thank you, Mr Weston,” Caro said, heading for the front door.

“Yes, thank you, Lar— I mean, Mr Weston,” Maggie said, still too flustered to think straight.

“It was my pleasure,” he told her with a roguish smile. “And don’t forget, I’m just next door if you need anything.”

With a devilish wink, he escorted her to her front door and Maggie almost fell up the front step she was so discombobulated by his provocative comment.