Picture Perfect (21 page)

‘No, not at all,’ Annabel didn’t think she sounded at all convincing, but Mr Leahey appeared to accept her words at face value. ‘Oh, look,’ he said as they turned a corner, ‘here is your sister.’

‘Where have you been?’ Justine exclaimed, taking Annabel’s hands and ignoring Mr Leahey, it was not surprising, Annabel thought, Justine would hardly wish to number him among her admirers with Lord Kent and Jack still by her side. She found her gaze irresistibly drawn to Jack, but although he met her eyes she found his expression unfathomable. He was certainly looking at her in a considering light but was he sizing her up as a potential art thief, or was he thinking of that unconsidered kiss she had given him not five minutes before? She felt heat rise in her face as she recalled her boldness, and remembering the enthusiasm of his response did nothing to dissipate her blush. Justine had not finished with her. ‘You know mother told us to stay together, you shouldn’t have wandered off like that!’

Annabel was startled out of her reverie by the hypocrisy of the accusation. ‘You disappeared with Lord Kent first, you went to…’ she tailed off, although she had been uncomfortable with Justine and Lord Kent’s avowed intention of spying on the Pattons in order to laugh at them, she wasn’t prepared to upbraid her sister in public over it. She need not have worried; Justine seemed to feel her own behaviour was above reproach.

‘You have been missing for an age,’ she said severely and threw a rather dour look at Jack. ‘Mr Denham was particularly worried about you; we have all been searching for you this past quarter of an hour.’

‘You have -’ Annabel couldn’t help it, she laughed as her indignation turned to amusement in the face of Justine’s blatant exaggeration.

‘I’m glad you see the funny side of it,’ Justine said, sounding anything but glad and glaring at Annabel.

‘I do,’ Annabel assured her and accidentally caught Jack’s eye. She could see at once he was doing his best not to laugh and immediately she felt much better, he might suspect her of being an art thief, but at least he saw her as an art thief whose sense of humour he shared. Then it came to her, the answer was obvious, she would simply have to catch the thief herself, then Jack would know she was innocent.

Chapter 11

‘
Mr Denham,’ Justine said, apparently oblivious of his amusement, ‘are you here alone this evening?’

‘Yes,’ Jack replied, a small smile hovering about his lips, ‘although I have been fortunate enough to encounter one or two close acquaintances.’ Annabel felt her blush deepen, there could be no doubt to whom he was referring, she could only hope that Justine continued to be unobservant.

‘Then won’t you join us?’ Justine took Jack’s hand and pressed it in a way which seemed artificially intimate to Annabel, she half expected Jack to slide his hand out of her grip but she knew he was too much of a gentleman to do anything quite so ungallant and he did not disappoint her. ‘You know what my parents always say, the more the merrier.’

On her other side Lord Kent, who hadn’t seemed particularly pleased by the hand taking either, perked up. ‘In that case,’ he said, ‘I’ll join you as well, I couldn’t possibly pass up the opportunity to spend the evening in the company of two such beautiful ladies.’

Annabel could have laughed again at the expression on her sister’s face, she was quite sure that Justine had not intended to issue a general invitation, but it was too late now. ‘Won’t your sisters miss you?’ Justine asked him half-heartedly.

‘Not at all,’ Lord Kent hastened to reassure her.

‘In that case I suppose you’d better join us too,’ Justine said to Mr Leahey rather ungraciously, ‘after all you did rescue Hannah for us.’

‘Who?’ Mr Leahey asked, ‘oh, you mean Miss Black, well, I’m er, meeting some friends, so I’ll say good evening to you all.’ Justine nodded coolly to him then turned sharply, crunching the gravel beneath her boots and held out her arm for Jack to take while Annabel found herself being escorted by Lord Kent who didn’t seem as put out by the prospect as she would have expected.

‘Have you visited the gardens before?’ he asked congenially and Annabel decided that he either had very good manners or he saw no real difference between herself and Justine and she supposed that if one judged solely by appearances then he was right.

Despite believing herself to be Jack’s principal suspect and having little opportunity to speak with him Annabel thoroughly enjoyed the evening. Perhaps it was the music and the rather nice picnic supper which the Beresfords seemed to regard as de rigueur for an evening outside, or perhaps it was her awareness of Jack’s nearness and the way she so often felt his eyes upon her, but when the orchestra played their final piece Annabel felt as if she could happily have listened for as long again even with the imminent prospect of fireworks in the offing. ‘The best view of the spectacle is to be had over by the river,’ Justine said pointedly, standing up and adjusting her hat.

‘By the river?’ Jack said softly, ‘you won’t be frightened will you?’

‘Frightened!’ Justine exclaimed and then seemed to rethink her answer hastily, ‘well, not with you beside me.’ Annabel knew Jack had been speaking to her, though she couldn’t imagine why he wondered if she would be scared of a few loud bangs, but Justine’s assumption that she was the only possible object of his concern infuriated her.

‘He meant…’ she began and stopped, confused and a little hurt, Jack was looking at Justine and smiling, perhaps she had been wrong about his intentions.

‘I would never be so foolish as to imagine you would be afraid of fireworks,’ Jack said, ‘you’re far too spirited for that. I was thinking about Miss Black being washed up in the river as an infant, I hope that standing on its banks won’t bring unpleasant memories back.’ There was a moment’s silence during which Annabel felt compelled to admire the tactful way in which Jack had spoken, he gave no indication that his concern was for herself in particular, in fact his solicitousness could be equally applied to any member of the Beresford family and she found herself wondering if it had been directed towards her after all. Lady Beresford certainly seemed to think it was of a general nature.

‘How thoughtful you are!’ she exclaimed, ‘but with you looking after Hannah and Lord Kent escorting Justine I know we need have no fears on the twins’ account.’ Justine looked as if she wanted to say something about her mother’s assumptions but Annabel thought Lady Beresford was being unusually permissive in her suggestion and perhaps Justine thought so to and decided it would be better not to rock the boat in case her mother reconsidered sending them off relatively unchaperoned. Meekly she let Lord Kent take her arm and Jack reached out a hand to pull Annabel to her feet.

The moment his hand clasped hers she knew she had been wrong to question where his interest lay, the mere touch of his palm seemed to send shivers of anticipation running through her and something in the sudden widening of his eyes told her he felt the same way too.

‘Quickly,’ he said softly as he drew her up, ‘or the fireworks will be starting without us.’ Many people were making for the riverbank and after only a few steps they became separated from Justine and Lord Kent, Annabel did not mind in the slightest. Being together in the darkness, surrounded only by strangers, made hurrying with Jack to the river’s edge suddenly excitingly intimate. Jack seemed to think so to for he gave her a quick grin and she wondered for a sudden heart stopping moment if he were going to kiss her, but the press of the crowd kept them moving and suddenly they were standing on the banks of the Thames and the night was illuminated with a shooting ball of light. Annabel had only seen fireworks once before and she stood there transfixed as the sky was decorated with cascading sparks in a myriad of colours, almost, but not quite, unaware of Jack beside her, just touching but still protective.

As the last firework faded from the sky and the spectators began to move away from the river she turned to him, still enraptured. ‘That was beautiful,’ she said.

‘Yes, it was,’ he said quietly. With a rush of feeling she realised he had been looking more at her than at the fireworks and then he drew her into his arms and kissed her.

It was Jack who broke off the kiss, Annabel looked around and realized they were the only ones left on the riverbank, she hadn’t noticed the crowd dissipating, so caught up had she been in the moment. ‘I must return you to the Beresfords,’ Jack said softly, but he did not let her go, instead he put his arm around her and guided her over the uneven grass to the gravel path and slowly they made their way back towards Lord and Lady Beresford.

‘Will you be riding tomorrow morning?’ Annabel asked into the silence which seemed to have enveloped them.

‘It’s Sunday,’ Jack said with a hint of amusement in his voice, ‘I have an engagement at a church.’

‘Oh,’ said Annabel, embarrassed at having forgotten, she also would be going to church in the morning of course, but perhaps, if Jack thought her a hardened criminal, it might help to spell out the fact that she was a pious church goer. ‘I shall be at St Joseph’s,’ she said.

‘I am going a little further afield myself,’ Jack said, ‘I shall be in Putney.’

‘Putney!’ Annabel exclaimed, ‘you don’t live there, do you?’ then realizing how censorious she sounded she tried to modify her question. ‘I mean, I’m sure it’s very nice there, but it seems so far away.’

Jack smiled down at her, ‘I’m glad to hear it’s very nice,’ he said, ‘I’ve never been there before, but I don’t believe it’s too distant, I fully expect to be back in time to ride in Regent’s Park in the afternoon.’ Then deftly he slipped his arm off her shoulder, taking her arm in his own instead and belatedly Annabel realized they were almost back at the place where the Beresford’s had set up. She could hear the staff packing up and resigned herself to the idea that Jack would not be able to kiss her again tonight. But suddenly Jack caught her other hand and drew her up to face him. ‘Annabel,’ he said.

‘Yes?’ she answered breathlessly.

‘You must tell me what you were doing at the Cavendish ball. I need to know.’

‘No you don’t!’ Disappointment and humiliation coursed through her and she knew that if he had kissed her before asking his question she would have been completely under his spell and she would have answered him. Perhaps that was why he had kissed her earlier, to break down her defences, and perhaps she was only imagining that she meant anything to him at all. She jerked herself out of his grasp and swung on her heel, her boot making a loud crunching sound on the gravel as she headed back towards the Beresfords, oblivious of the tall man who jumped back as if startled when she broke away from Jack.

‘Oh there you are,’ said Justine. ‘I hope you didn’t get lost again, you seem to be making quite a habit of being rescued by gentlemen. Anyone would think,’ she added sotto voce, ‘that you were flirting with them.’

‘I’m not,’ Annabel said through gritted teeth, and then leaned forward and said in a voice she hoped only Justine would hear. ‘So who are you flirting with?’

Justine gave an amused chuckle and whispered in her ear ‘My dear, isn’t it obvious, Jack of course. We’ve been flirting ever since we laid eyes on each other last year, I thought you’d realized.’ Then her face took on an expression of concern. ‘You haven’t been throwing yourself at him, have you? I know he speaks to you fondly; that’s only natural, you’re my sister, but don’t start thinking it means more than it does.’

‘Of course I haven’t thrown myself at him,’ Annabel said coldly, thinking that probably she had. True, Jack had kissed her twice without any encouragement, but the first time it was a ruse to divert suspicion from Mr Leahey’s spy post at Almack’s and the second time had been tonight on the river bank, and was perhaps a natural follow on from the spontaneous kiss she had given him earlier in the evening. Did Jack think her an art thief of easy virtue?

At the garden gates the Beresfords’ carriage was waiting. Proudly Annabel forced herself to bid Jack goodnight as they went their separate ways, but all the way home in the carriage thoughts of Jack turned themselves over in her head and she longed to see him in the clear light of day.

In the cool April light, early the next morning, Jack alighted from his carriage at the graveyard in Putney and began reading headstones. If searching for Molly Pollard hadn’t been connected with Annabel he knew he wouldn’t have been able to concentrate, his other investigation, the investigation into the art thefts, had been pushed to the back of his mind until recently when he had started to wonder if Annabel were involved. He wished she would tell him what she had been up to that night at the ball, he couldn’t bring himself to believe she was really a thief, and a simple explanation from her would set his mind at rest, but the more often she refused to explain the more likely it seemed that she had something serious to hide.

Molly Pollard had obviously been alive in 1802; Jack swiftly bypassed the older headstones and then began reading the names in earnest. Diligent searching, intruded on only by the improper memory of Annabel’s soft but insistent lips on his, brought him at last to the grave he was looking for.