Page 72 of Debtor’s Daughter

Larkin laughed, but Gideon’s ears pricked up.

“Trifle?” he asked hopefully.

“Not tonight, you little rogue,” Larkin said, laughing and getting up to fetch a damp cloth. Carefully, he wiped Gideon’s sticky hands and took the empty plate away. Despite his earlier confidence, he felt sick with nerves now. “Gideon, could I have a little talk with you?” Gideon nodded, looking expectantly at Larkin as he sat back down again.

“Want to play war?”

Larkin grinned. “I certainly do, but not right now. I need to show you something.”

“More soldiers?”

“Not more soldiers, but one very special soldier,” Larkin said, reaching into his pocket.

Maggie frowned in confusion and then gasped as Larkin set the little miniature he’d done on the table. He’d never painted a miniature before, and it had been difficult for more reasons that simply the blurry photo that Montagu had secured for him from he knew not where. But there was Gideon’s father, looking handsome and proud in his red coat.

“This is a picture of your papa, Gideon,” Larkin said softly, aware of Maggie trying not to cry beside him. “He was a very, very brave man, a hero, who went to war to keep us all safe.”

Gideon squinted down at the tiny image and looked back at Larkin, eyes wide. “Papa is in heaven,” he said eagerly. “Mama said, but… this is Papa too?”

“Yes,” Larkin agreed, suddenly finding his throat very tight. “This is a painting of what your papa looked like, and it is for you to keep always, so you can remember him.”

“For me?” Gideon repeated, picking up the picture and staring at it very hard. “My papa,” he said. “Look, Mama! Look what Westie gave me.”

“I see it, darling,” Maggie said, her eyes shining as she stared at Larkin in wonder. “And it is a beautiful gift, and you must treasure it always and keep it safe. It… It looks just like him, you know.”

Gideon beamed at her and stared down again at the little portrait.

“Fanks, Westie,” he said, putting the tiny painting down and getting off his chair.

Larkin had to swallow hard as the child hugged him tightly. He picked Gideon up and settled him on his knee. “There’s something else I want to talk to you about, Gideon,” he said, as this was the part that made his heart clench with anxiety. “Because you don’t have a papa here, as he’s in heaven, but I would very, very much like a son like you.”

“Like me?” Gideon repeated, eyes wide.

“Just like you,” Larkin agreed. “You see, I love your mama very much, and I love you too, and though I’m not a brave soldier like your father, I am here, and I would very much like to be here for you every day, if you think you would not mind it?”

“Would you live here with Mama and me?”

“Well, not here, but yes, back at your old house, the manor. We would all live together and see each other every day. You and your mama, and me.”

Gideon stared up at him thoughtfully. “All right, then,” he said simply. “Can I get my soldiers now?”

Larkin stared at him, a little taken aback. “Er… yes, if you want to.”

“Can you read to me tonight then, if you’re my papa? And can we play ball? And can we have cake, and can we—”

“Yes!” Larkin said, nodding to all of it. “Yes, and I’ll take you fishing, and teach you to ride like an out-an’-outer, and drive a carriage, and do all the things my papa did with me, I promise.”

Gideon gave a whoop and ran from the room. “Stay there, I get my soldiers!” he shouted, thundering from the room with all the grace of a small hippopotamus.

“Well,” Maggie said, her voice trembling with emotion. “I do hope you’ve allowed a little time for your wife among all those manly activities,” she said with mock indignation, and then burst into tears.

“Darling,” Larkin said, pulling her into his arms. “I’m so sorry. Ought I to have warned you? It must have been a shock to see him again like that.”

“It was,” she said, laughing and crying at once. “But a lovely shock, and you know, I had the strangest feeling when I saw his face, the sense that he was happy for us, that he approved. I think he would have liked you, Larkin. Very much.”

“I will do my very best to be a father to Gideon, love, I promise, but you might need to be patient with me. I’m rather new to this, you see.”

“No,” Maggie said, gazing up at him. “No, you are already perfect, and I love you, Larkin Weston, with all my heart.”