Picture Perfect (15 page)

‘
She’s my cousin, she has a beautiful voice,’ Annabel said as firmly as she could.

‘
I have no ear for music, so I shall take your word on that,’ Jack said, ‘but it would be a pity if she were too shy to sing tonight and deprive all those who do appreciate her talents of hearing her.’

‘
Augusta has performed for the family many times,’ Annabel said stiffly. ‘I have not known her to be shy.’

Jack cocked his head. ‘This is her first season, is it not?’

‘
And mine also,’ Annabel said tartly.

‘
So she has never before sung in front of so large a gathering - unless you have a particularly extended family?’

‘
My family is of a perfectly normal size,’ Annabel said primly, ‘although of course it has recently doubled.’

Jack gave a snort of laughter and then quickly pulled himself up. ‘Forgive me, that was thoughtless of me to refer to your family in such a way and I am very aware that this is your first season, it’s just that I cannot imagine you being afflicted with nerves the way that poor girl by the piano is, and the one at the piano has not an inkling of what the other is going through.’ He had summed Madeline up perfectly, Annabel thought, and now that he had pointed it out she could see how nervous the normally placid Augusta was. ‘Were you thinking of lending your voice to hers?’ Jack asked quietly. ‘This must be a strange evening for you with both your families present, but I know Lady Beresford would very much enjoy seeing you in the limelight.’ The guests, who had mostly reseated themselves, were starting to rustle and Augusta beckoned again, more urgently. Annabel glanced at Jack and saw not a trace of mockery on his face.

‘
Yes,’ she mumbled, ‘Augusta is expecting me to sing with her.’

‘
I shall be delighted to hear you,’ Jack said, slipping into a chair, the back of his hand carelessly brushing against hers.

‘
I… I thought you said you were not musical,’ Annabel said, transfixed by his accidental touch.

Jack looked up at her, his eyes full of merriment, ‘I shall still be delighted to hear you,’ he said.

As it turned out, the singing was easy. Augusta and Madeline had chosen four hymns, and as everyone was familiar with them, it seemed to Annabel that the audience only heard the hymns as they expected them to sound and did not listen with an ear for musical criticism. Augusta had given her a grateful smile when Annabel had joined her at the piano, and knowing how much she was appreciated helped to take her mind off the singing. At the end of each hymn they were dutifully clapped and at the end of the last Annabel caught Lady Beresford surreptitiously wiping her eyes while smiling beatifically and she was glad that Jack had persuaded her to sing.

‘
About this picnic,’ Jack said to Annabel, Henry and Justine as the guests started to depart, ‘Tomorrow is a bit short notice, would Thursday suit everyone?’

‘
Oh, yes,’ said Annabel, relived. She had not anticipated her mother being pleased at demands for picnic food being given to their cook with such short notice. ‘That will give me two mornings to ride Hatton, I am a little out of practice I’m afraid.’

‘
Thursday it is, then,’ Jack said briskly. ‘Good evening.’ He took Justine’s hand and kissed it, bowed to Henry and took Annabel’s hand last of all. ‘I often ride in the mornings, around ten o’clock,’ he remarked. Then he brushed Annabel’s hand with his lips and was gone.

Chapter 8

All the way home in the carriage, which Mrs Black had consented to send for because of the dark, Annabel couldn’t stop thinking about Jack and the last thing he had said. Had he been suggesting they meet in the morning to ride together, and if so why hadn’t he simply asked her if she would like to join him in Regents Park? Did he want to meet her but was reluctant to say so in front of Justine in case she took it amiss, or was Annabel simply reading too much into an idle comment? Somehow she didn’t think so, Jack never seemed to speak without purpose, it was one of the things which made him so interesting to talk to, but he also seemed very decent, surely he didn’t mean to deceive Justine? Perhaps, she thought, with a surge of hope, Jack and Justine didn’t have an understanding after all, which would leave Jack entirely free to make cryptic comments to whomever he chose.

‘You’re very quiet,’ Mrs Black observed, interrupting her train of thought. It was on the tip of Annabel’s tongue to say that she thought she would ride in the morning, but she stopped herself just in time, Henry was far too likely to want to join her and whether Jack Denham was expecting her to meet him or not, Annabel would far rather find out by herself.

‘Did you enjoy the music, Mama?’ she asked instead.

Mrs Black nodded, ‘I did, I always enjoy listening to your Uncle James and Madeline’s playing was, as usual, surprisingly delightful.’

The Black’s town house in St James’ Square was not as large as the one her aunt and uncle had taken for the season and Annabel took care to move quietly as she washed and dressed the following morning, sending her maid away to inform their groom she wished to ride and to prevent the sound of voices from waking Henry in the next room. She arrived at Rotten Row shortly before ten, accompanied by Bill, the Black’s groom, but otherwise quite happily alone. Suddenly nervous, she subdued Hatton into a stately walk down the path, with Bill trailing several horse lengths behind, and tried to resist looking over her shoulder for Jack. After a few minutes she urged Hatton into a controlled trot and wanted to slow her again almost as soon as she had started when she heard another set of hoof beats behind her, but that would either look silly or, worse, as if she couldn’t control her horse so she forced herself to continue at a trot. Fortunately the other rider seemed to be gaining on her easily and as the distance closed between them Annabel felt quite entitled to turn to see who it was.

It was Jack, she felt her heart leap with joy and she beamed at him.

‘Good morning, Miss Black, what a pleasant surprise,’ Jack said, his eyes twinkling.

‘Isn’t it,’ Annabel murmured. Of one accord they let their horses fall back into a walk. Oddly Jack began to talk about the weather. Annabel answered his banal pleasantries with the expected responses and a growing feeling of frustration. This was not the usual level of discourse she had come to expect from him.

‘Mr Denham,’ she said after what seemed to have been about five minutes of pointless exchange, ‘I am quite sure that on some future day we shall have rain, wind, sunshine and snow, although probably not all at the same time, so now can we please dispense with the weather? How are your investigations proceeding in tracking the art thief?’

Jack laughed and Annabel felt her heart lift, but all he said was ‘My investigation seems to have reached an impasse,’ and Annabel remembered her part in allowing the thief to make off with the triptych from Almack’s. Perhaps that was why Jack’s attitude towards her had changed, he was being quite as attentive as usual but he thought after the debacle the other night that her mental powers were somewhat limited.

‘I’m terribly sorry,’ she blurted out, ‘after all the trouble you’d gone to and I let the thief get away. Next time if I see anyone behaving in a remotely suspicious manner I shall confront him at once, I promise you.’

‘What!’ Jack’s horse stopped abruptly, perhaps responding to his evident surprise at her impassioned speech. ‘No!’ he urged his horse up to hers and reached over to hold one of the reins as if he thought she might gallop off at any moment. ‘No, don’t ever confront someone you believe to be criminal; cornered men are the most dangerous. Promise me you will never do that!’ His deep blue eyes were only inches from her own and Annabel felt as if she could fall into them, but Jack actually seemed to want an answer so she pulled herself together and nodded. ‘Say it,’ he said, with an edge to his voice which she had never heard before.

‘I promise,’ she said and felt as if she were promising him far more than a simple pledge not to challenge dangerous criminals single-handedly.

‘Good,’ he said, releasing her rein and sitting back. ‘Now surely you can’t think I hold you responsible for the thief’s success at Almack’s, Leahey shouldn’t have deserted his post, it’s not your fault at all.’

‘I did wonder,’ Annabel felt herself compelled to say. ‘You don’t usually talk about the weather.’

It was Jack’s turn to look a little embarrassed. ‘I was wondering,’ he said, ‘I was curious, but I thought it might be a delicate subject and I wasn’t sure how to bring it up…’

A delicate subject, that sounded very promising, Annabel felt a smile blossom on her face. ‘What is it?’ she asked hoping she sounded casually encouraging. Evidently she did.

‘I was wondering what you could remember of your early life, when you lived with the Beresfords.’

She felt her hopes crashing down to earth with a thud. Not only was it not remotely what she had wanted to hear it was not even a topic on which she had anything interesting to say. ‘Nothing,’ she said rather flatly. ‘I remember nothing.’

‘Nothing at all?’ Jack persisted, not showing the usual delicacy she had unconsciously come to expect from him. ‘Do you remember Bath at all?’

‘
No,’ she said.

‘
Have you visited Bath at any later points in your life?’ Jack asked and suddenly she realized that he was looking at her in much the same way that he had looked when she had seen him examine the scene of the crime after the picture had been stolen from Lockton House and that his manner had become quite businesslike.

‘
Are you investigating me?’ she demanded.

‘
I…’ Jack stopped and looked uncharacteristically disconcerted. ‘That is - ’

‘
You are!’ He didn’t try to deny it and she felt simultaneously betrayed and furious. ‘How dare you! My past is no one’s business but my own! There can be no doubt that I am Lord and Lady Beresford’s missing daughter so what possible reason do you have for your investigation?’

‘
Annabel, please. No one doubts the validity of your claim -’ Jack looked rather pale she noted with bitter satisfaction. She interrupted him again.

‘
My
claim
? I make no claim on the Beresfords, they identified me, if you remember, and I would have been far happier if that had never happened. Is it they who asked you to investigate me?’ She urged Hatton closer to Jack’s horse, tempted to clutch his reins as he had with hers earlier. She was determined to have an answer.

Jack dropped his eyes. ‘I am not at liberty to say,’ he said stiffly.

‘
But you are at liberty to dig around in my past,’ she said acidly. ‘Or are you really investigating the Black family to see whether they have been fit guardians to the Beresford’s firstborn? Well to save you a lot of hard work I will tell you now my family’s reputation is unimpeachable and I have had a far better upbringing with them than Justine has had with her natural parents.’

‘
I am not investigating the Blacks, I can tell you that much,’ Jack said.

‘
But you won’t tell me who you are working for!’

‘
Look!’ Jack said sharply, making his horse skitter beneath him. ‘A gentleman’s word is his bond; you can’t expect him to break it for anyone!’

‘
I didn’t think you would break it for anyone - ’Annabel said and then put her hand to her mouth as she realized what she had been about to say
. But I thought you would break it for me
. She couldn’t say such a thing to him, clearly the understanding she felt between them was entirely in her imagination. For a moment longer she stared at him and then certain she was also only imagining that the distress she felt was mirrored in Jack’s eyes she abruptly turned her horse, kicking it into a canter back the way they had come so that it would be completely clear to him that she didn’t want to be followed.

Even as he watched with dismay as Annabel retreated Jack couldn’t help noticing how well she rode. In her deep green riding habit and matching hat, perfectly balanced and at one with the horse she was the picture of elegance and he wished fervently that they were out in the Somerset countryside riding over the downs together near his family home instead of being caught up in this situation where, whether Annabel was aware of it or not, the eyes of the
beau monde
were upon them. The reunion of the Beresfords with their long lost daughter had caught the imagination of a vast number of people and some were beginning to hint that Lord Beresford had been negligent in his searches for his missing child. It was for this reason, Jack was sure, that Lord Beresford had asked him to investigate Annabel’s disappearance sixteen years ago, for with Justine around there could be no doubt as to her true identity.

Sighing, he supposed that the quickest way to mend their quarrel was for him to proceed with all haste to the end of the investigation, then, when things were plainly spelled out, Lord Beresford could surely have no objection to enlightening the female members of his family about what he had learned. In his pocket Jack had the list Lord Beresford had supplied for him detailing the names of his household staff at the time of Annabel’s disappearance. The person he most wanted to speak to of course was the nursery maid who had had charge of the girls on that fateful afternoon, but according to Lord Beresford Molly Pollard had been turned out of the house that very evening and he had no idea what had become of her since. As he turned his horse and allowed him to amble back in the direction of the stables Jack pulled the list from his pocket. The second name on it was Rafe Rollings, former butler whose employment with the Beresfords had come to an abrupt end when he was put in prison for stealing. He had then spent time in Newgate prison according to Lord Beresford. That looked quite promising, there was a good chance that the man would have been in and out of prison several times and that the gaolers would know his current whereabouts. Of course a convict would be unlikely to want to help a family who had done nothing to aid him after his downfall but Jack did not need to let him know how directly connected with the Beresfords he was and money would be sure to go a long way towards gaining the man’s co-operation.