Picture Perfect (18 page)

‘Miss Black,’ he said formally and Annabel thought he looked a little wary but on the other hand Madeline had been quite right, she was sitting out her fourth dance and here Jack was, waiting for her. Still looking as if he thought she might bite he said ‘Would you care to take a stroll around the room?’

‘To admire Lord Cavendish’s art collection?’ the words were out of her mouth in a teasing tone before she could stop them.

Jack looked at her gravely, ‘Well it never hurts to admire good paintings while one still has the opportunity,’ he said but his eyes were twinkling and he looked rather relieved as if he thought this meant she had forgiven him. She wondered if she had, the thought of her parents being investigated still made her furious, but standing this close to Jack, who looked at his most handsome in his black evening wear, and being aware of the warmth of his body and his faintly masculine scent it was impossible to maintain her detachment. He offered Annabel his arm and forgetting completely her intention to chat to her mother, forgetting even to introduce Jack to her, she tucked her bare arm into his jacketed one and allowed herself to be led along the periphery of the dance floor.

Lord Cavendish was classical in his tastes in art, or perhaps just ostentatiously rich. He displayed none of Stubbs’ charming little paintings of animals which Annabel was used to seeing at the houses of family friends, but preferred instead to exhibit old masters, apparently the larger the better. ‘That Reubens is quite stunning,’ Annabel observed as they paused to admire a religious work.

‘Valuable too,’ Jack agreed, ‘but difficult to nick discreetly.’

‘That’s the one,’ Annabel said a little while later as they came across a considerably smaller painting tucked away on the wall behind a pillar. ‘The thief won’t be able to resist this da Vinci, it’s small enough to make away with and it’s exquisite.’ She glanced at Jack and caught a look of genuine surprise in his eyes. ‘You think so too, don’t you?’

‘I’m no art expert,’ Jack said evasively, ‘but it’s certainly a valuable piece, now let us move on before our interest in the da Vinci is noticed - no! Don’t look round for the thief!’ He pulled her more closely to him and hustled her away from the painting.

‘Sorry,’ Annabel said, but knew she didn’t sound very repentant, it was far too nice being pulled close by Jack and feeling the weave of his jacket brush her bare upper arm while his hand clasped hers possessively. Perhaps Madeline was right, she should forget about the investigation and forgive him, after all she knew he would not turn up anything unpleasant. She smiled up at him, he grinned back and then took a breath as if he were about to say something when Justine interrupted them.

‘Jack!’ she exclaimed, planting herself right in the middle of their path and all but offering her hand to be kissed, ‘and Hannah,’ she added almost as an afterthought. To Annabel’s intense irritation Jack released her and kissed the proffered hand. She tried to tell herself that as a gentleman he had had no choice, but it didn’t help. ‘Have you been rescuing Annabel?’ Justine asked but didn’t wait for an answer. ‘You must both come along with me, Annabel I have found the most perfectly charming man for you to dance with and Jack, you must dance with me, I haven’t had a chance to speak with you for days!’

‘Oh, but my - ’ the beginning of a lie claiming that her dance card was completely fully fell from Annabel’s lips without her having to think about it, she did not need Justine to find partners for her but at that moment Dermot Leahey pushed his way through the crowd and seized her hand.’

‘Miss Black,’ he said, planting an unwelcome kiss on the back of her hand.

‘Oh, here he is!’ Justine said, clearly delighted. ‘I know as art lovers you and Mr Leahey will have so much to talk about.’

‘Miss Black and I are old friends,’ Leahey said and Annabel bit her lip to stop herself from contradicting him in public. ‘Won’t you join me for the next set, I believe the musicians are about to strike up some country tunes.’

The next set! Mr Leahey had a nerve; still she couldn’t quite bring herself to snub him, particularly not after the fiasco they had both been responsible for at Almack’s. Annabel forced herself to smile. ‘Perhaps one dance,’ she said, hoping she sounded shy rather than reluctant, and she allowed him to lead her onto the dance floor, only too aware of Jack and Justine linking together behind her.

Jack and Justine, Annabel saw to her chagrin, despite the limitations of country dancing on intimate conversation, seemed quite engrossed in each other, but when, briefly, she herself was partnered with Jack he smiled at her but did not say anything and his hands, warm and firm on her own, were little compensation for seeing him resume his intent listening when he was once more reunited with Justine. She wondered what he had been going to say to her and thought rather sourly that it would probably only have been renewed enquiries about her past. Perhaps it was a good thing that Justine had happened upon them when she did, she and Jack would only have quarrelled again.

Jack was glad that Justine had turned up when she did, but not for any of the reasons that Annabel might have assumed. Part of his elaborate planning for both securing Lord Cavendish’s paintings and catching the thief had involved having copies made to replace the most valuable works and covering the frames with a concoction of beeswax, chalk dust and soot, which would invariably mark the clothes and hands of anyone who touched the work, but hopefully without the thief being aware of it, and this time he had three more assistants placed strategically around the entrances to the ballroom, not friends this time, but junior colleagues employed by the home office who were now taking this threat to the nation’s art wealth seriously. He had been on the point of divulging the nature of his trap to Annabel, she was so easy to talk to and could be relied upon to take an intelligent interest in his plan, but a secret is no longer a secret if it is shared, he reminded himself and it was easy for an untrained person to give away confidential details without being aware of what they were doing, so really it was for the best that they had been interrupted.

Meanwhile Justine seemed keen to relive her experiences on the day of the picnic and Jack concluded that she must have been even more frightened than he had thought as she sought his reassurances that there had never been any question over his being able to stop her horse before it reached the woods. She seemed so uncharacteristically unnerved that he hadn’t the heart to leave her after the first dance, although he was sure she would have no lack of partners, and at the end of the set when she looked up at him wistfully and said she was feeling a little faint he knew he couldn’t possibly abandon her without at least escorting her back to her family and furnishing her with refreshment.

Annabel managed to extract herself from Mr Leahey after only on dance and took a rapid turn around the dance floor with Lord Kent who seemed even more spirited as the evening progressed, then she found herself being tapped on the shoulder and came face to face with Henry. ‘Oh, it’s you,’ he said rather grumpily. ‘Well I suppose we should dance, it would be awkward not to now.’

‘Delighted, I’m sure,’ she said rather acerbically.

‘Sorry,’ Henry said, ‘from the back I thought you might be Justine.’

‘She’s in blue and I’m in pink!’ Annabel said disbelievingly. Henry shrugged.

‘Your hair’s a bit mussed up,’ he said a short while later as the dance drew to a close. Then his eyes narrowed. ‘You haven’t - ’

‘No, of course I haven’t!’ Annabel said crossly. ‘It must have been Lord Kent, dancing,’ she added heavily.

‘I didn’t think it was Lord Kent,’ Henry said as they quit the dance floor, ‘but I saw you wandering off with Denham earlier.’

‘Jack Denham only has eyes for Justine,’ Annabel told him haughtily, it was the first time she had admitted it out loud and somehow saying it made her feel a little more in control of the situation, or at least in control of her part in it.

‘Oh,’ said Henry looking rather more discouraged than relieved. He seemed to make an effort to pull himself together. ‘Well a chap has to keep an eye on his little sister, you know. I’m off for cards now, and you really should sort your hair out.’ Scowling at his retreating back Annabel supposed she should take his advice, her hair must be very askew if her brother had noticed it. She took herself off in search of a powder room.

A few minutes later, her hair rebraided perhaps a little less imaginatively than before but hopefully more securely, Annabel retraced her steps to rejoin the fray.

‘But, Jack, you must have seen the way she looks at you.’ By some trick of architecture Justine’s voice floated clearly down the corridor to her even though she and Jack, arm in arm, were some distance away. She couldn’t make out Jack’s reply, but Justine’s next words were clearly audible. ‘Yes, she’s very sweet,’ she said irritably. ‘Even though we’re the same age I think of her as a little sister, she’s so new to society, so girlish.’ They were talking about her! Even as she struggled to believe Justine could be so condescending Annabel strained to hear Jack’s reply but all she made out was an unidentifiable monosyllable. ‘I’m so glad you like her,’ Justine continued, ‘she needs a big brother to take her under his wing.’ Annabel seethed and then realized they were coming her way. What she would say to Justine she couldn’t imagine, but she knew that if she spoke to her now she was likely to be unforgivably rude. She glanced around for a retiring room or an alcove into which she could retreat. She was standing in a darkened area and she didn’t think they could have seen her yet, but nothing adorned this section of the wall except a large, unlit Jacobean fireplace, no doors beckoned and at any moment Jack and Justine would see her standing there and know she had overheard their conversation. Without further hesitation she ducked under the mantelpiece and tucked herself into the corner of the fireplace, there was plenty of room even if the bricks were rough and chilly on her bare arms, and concealed as she was in the shadows, Jack and Justine would not see her.

‘Have you been invited to the Maxim’s next week?’ Annabel heard Justine ask as they passed. ‘They only ever invite a select few, but I thought you were bound to be in their number.’

‘I have that pleasure,’ Jack drawled and for some reason they both laughed. The intimacy of it chilled Annabel, obviously there was some shared joke about the Maxim family which she could not hope to share, she had met Mr and Mrs Maxim during her stay with the Beresfords but she had received no invitation to their gathering. Jack and Justine passed and with a quick look to make sure she would not be observed, Annabel stepped out of the fireplace. Back in the dark corridor Annabel gave her skirts a quick flick to shake any traces of soot from them and then checked her hands, they seemed clean enough and, smoothing her skirt once more, she returned to the ballroom.

A little while later Annabel found herself once again unable to refuse a dance with Mr Leahey, he had just taken her in his arms to commence a waltz when Madeline came up behind her. ‘Annabel, she exclaimed, ‘what have you been doing? There are grey marks all down the back of your dress. Is it soot?’ With a little cry of frustration Annabel pulled apart from Mr Leahey and examined her skirt. ‘And look,’ Madeline went on blithely, ‘you have covered your partner in soot too.’ Glancing at Mr Leahey Annabel saw that Madeline was right, although ‘covered’ was an exaggeration, there was a small grey smudge on the front of his clothes and the cuffs of his jacket had an ashy look.

‘My apologies, Mr Leahey,’ she said contritely, hoping that now she would at least appear a less attractive dancing partner. It seemed that in this she would get her wish, with unflattering haste Mr Leahey mumbled his forgiveness and departed to make good the damage to his attire.

Madeline flashed Annabel a smile, ‘Be assured I would have been more discreet had you been with a more desirable partner, but I gather he is a struggling artist and I know you can do a lot better than that.’ She bent to examine Annabel’s dress more closely. ‘I don’t think you will be able to do much more about these marks tonight, although it might be possible to blend them in a little more. Come, we’ll see what we can do.’

As they made their way to the nearest retiring room Annabel caught sight of Justine dancing and was pleased to see that this time she was not partnered by Jack. Instinctively she glanced around for him and thought she saw him in the shadows at the edge of the room, but she was not sure. Mercifully, given the state of her dress as revealed by the much brighter lamp light in the small retiring room, the room they entered was empty. Madeline shut the door firmly and pursed her lips. ‘Get out your handkerchief,’ she said, ‘Try and blend in the grey on the front of your dress and I’ll do the same at the back. Whatever were you doing to get in such a state?’

Annabel decided not to answer that; it would sound far too foolish. Following Madeline’s instructions she scrubbed at the marks until the black of the soot was a pale grey and hopefully would not be particularly noticeable in the crowded, softly-lit ballroom. ‘I think that’s the best we can do,’ said Madeline.

‘Thank you,’ Annabel said humbly, grateful also that her cousin hadn’t pursued the subject of how Annabel had got her dress so dirty in the first place.

‘Wait!’ Madeline said as Annabel opened the door. ‘Head up, coy smile, remember I was right about your Mr Denham coming to find you, he’ll have noticed you hiding away in here and will happen to cross your path in a few moments, you can be sure of it.’ It didn’t seem worthwhile contradicting Madeline, she had after all been right about Jack’s first approach to her that evening. Annabel allowed herself to take heart from that thought, and recalling the conversation she had overheard between Justine and Jack she realized that all descriptions of herself as a sort of younger sister to Jack had come from Justine, she didn’t actually know how Jack had replied, perhaps there was hope yet, Madeline certainly seemed to think so.