Picture Perfect (29 page)

‘What are you going to do now?’ she asked.

‘What do you mean?’ Annabel asked and felt herself blushing as there rose in her mind a vision of herself and Jack at the front of a church aisle with him slipping a gold ring on her finger, beautiful organ music would be playing, Handel probably and the church would be decorated with roses.

‘Well,’ Justine said carefully, ‘you have spent a night on a boat, unchaperoned and in the company of several rough men, you reputation is ruined.’

‘What?’ Annabel asked, this was the last thing she had anticipated Justine saying and the dizziness she had experienced earlier returned in full measure.

‘Of course perhaps if you went and lived in a town up north you could still mingle with society, but you can’t possibly expect any doors to be open in London for you anymore,’ Justine continued as if she expected Annabel to be in perfect agreement with her.

‘But Jack was there, he knows nothing… untoward happened,’ Annabel gasped.

‘Do you think his word will really be enough to convince a gentleman?’ Justine said pityingly, ‘you’ll never get a husband here now; perhaps you could persuade your parents to remove to York.’

‘But I don’t want…’ Annabel said and stopped, but it seemed Justine understood her only too well.

‘My dear,’ she said, covering Annabel’s hand with her own and only years of training in good manners stopped Annabel from snatching hers away immediately, ‘you can’t possibly imagine Jack would marry you out of pity, for that is what it would be, remember, I told you he sees you as the little sister he never had.’ Justine had told her that before and although something in what her sister said did not sound right, Annabel’s head was swimming and she couldn’t think what, all she knew was that she had to talk to Jack as soon as possible.

‘I feel a little tired,’ she said to Justine and was amazed at how convincing she sounded when every fibre of her being wanted to leap to her feet and rush and find Jack immediately.

‘Of course,’ Justine said and patted her hand solicitously. As soon as she had left Annabel quietly eased herself out of bed, she did not want Laura coming in and protesting, then she dressed herself and opened the door a crack. Everything was quiet so she slipped down the staircase and out of the front door. She felt a little better now that she was moving. She walked to the end of the street and in front of the British Museum, as she had hoped, she saw a hackney for hire.

She had never been to Jack’s house in Holborn before, but she had memorised his address when she and her cousins had written out the invitations for the musical evening and she had no trouble finding it. It was a tall, pleasant looking townhouse, not as big as her parents’ and certainly nowhere as big as the Beresford’s residence, but to Annabel it looked just right and exactly the sort of house she would like to find herself the mistress of. Or perhaps, she mused as she climbed the front steps, if Justine was right and Jack wouldn’t want to marry a woman whose reputation had been compromised, perhaps she could become Jack’s mistress instead, it was quite an enticing thought and she found herself giggling as she knocked on the door.

Jack was very pleased with his morning’s work, it turned out the magistrates had been aware of Rafe Rollings for quite some time. They were more than pleased to get some hard evidence on him and some Bow Street Runners had been dispatched to his address at once. Jack had returned home, changed out of his borrowed clothes and was about to eat lunch. He planned to visit Annabel that afternoon, he didn’t yet quite know what he planned to say to her, but he knew he needed to see her, today and every day after that, but there was still the question of the stolen paintings, for which she had never denied being responsible. During the twenty-four hours of her ordeal Annabel had proved over and over again her spirit and daring, was that why she stole paintings? For the excitement of it all? And if so could he ever persuade her that a respectable life at his side would compare with the thrill of crime or would he have to make good on his claim that if she were an art thief he would become one too.

He was interrupted in his reverie by Mills. ‘Miss Black is here to see you, sir,’ he said. ‘Shall I show her in?’

‘Yes!’ Jack said, his spirits lifting, whatever the obstacles, he and Annabel would overcome them, all that mattered was that she was here, now. Annabel came in, he took one look at her and felt his smile fade, she looked hot and flushed, she had come out without a hat and her bronze curls tumbled down over her shoulders in a way which while undeniably appealing was quite unlike her. ‘My darling!’ he said, filled with concern, sure she had taken a chill from her dip in the river last night, ‘You should be in bed.’ She gave him an odd little smile and suddenly Jack found it all too easy to picture her in bed, his bed, with him, ready to… she wasn’t well, he tried to pull himself together. ‘Please sit down,’ he said, taking her hand, it felt far too warm and he wondered if he should take her home at once, but she had just arrived and selfish as it was he couldn’t bear to let her go yet.

He sat down next to her on the small settee, their legs brushing, her hand still in his and he was about to ask her one more time if she had stolen the paintings when she raised the subject herself.

‘Do you think you could ever admit a fallen woman into your life?’ She looked at him wide eyed and trusting, like a young doe and he couldn’t help himself, she was so beautiful, he leaned forward and kissed her softly on the lips, but she burned to his touch and he drew back, she wasn’t well, he must bring this conversation to a close and escort her home.

‘I do have concerns about you,’ he said carefully, ‘but I’m sure we can come to some agreement.’

She gave a little gasp and her colour heightened, but she tightened her grip on his hand and leaned so close that her lips were almost touching his when she spoke and he could feel her voice as much as hear it. ‘Were you thinking of a clandestine arrangement?’ Her meaning was unmistakable and alluring in the extreme, Jack kissed her again and slid his hands down her body, joyfully exploring her softness and curves for the first time and he could tell by the way she thrust her breasts into his cupped hands that she was enjoying it every bit as much as he was. But one of them had to be sensible, there was no need to compromise her by rushing things, he forced himself to take both her hands in his and to sit back.

‘I have no need to take an art thief as my mistress,’ he said smiling into her eyes. He was wholly unprepared for what happened next; Annabel wrenched her hands out of his and surged to her feet, looking as if she’d like to slap him.

‘How dare you -’she began, then all at once the colour drained from her face and she fell down in a faint.

He managed to catch her and he laid her awkwardly on the settee, feeling for her pulse as he did so. Her heart was racing, and his own contracted in fear even as he berated himself for his selfishness, he had seen that she was ill but he had kept her talking and then made improper advances towards her. ‘Mills!’ he bellowed and his valet burst through the door. ‘Fetch the doctor immediately!’

When the doctor arrived Annabel still hadn’t stirred, despite Jack’s best endeavours with brandy and smelling salts, when those had failed to achieve anything he sat beside her holding her hand, and he fancied that perhaps her pulse had quietened a little at that, her breathing remained a little ragged, but she seemed more asleep than unconscious. Doctor Mackenzie was an old friend and he obviously felt no qualms about ordering his employer from the room, Jack took the opportunity to send Mills out again, this time to fetch Colonel and Mrs Black. It was not long before the doctor emerged. ‘It’s not serious,’ he said to Jack’s relief, ‘but you’ll excuse me for asking, are you really the person I should be discussing the young lady’s health with?

‘She is my fiancée,’ Jack answered reflexively, at least she would be, he silently amended, when she was well enough for him to propose.

Doctor Mackenzie’s face broke into a wreath of smiles and he shook Jack’s hand warmly, ‘Congratulations, old chap, I didn’t think you were the marrying kind, that’s splendid news. Now, about your fiancée…’

‘Miss Annabel Black,’ Jack supplied, feeling his mouth curve into a smile with the very saying of her name.

‘Miss Black,’ Doctor Mackenzie continued, ‘has taken a bad chill, but there’s no coughing, so it hasn’t moved to her lungs and with complete bed rest she should be up and about in four or five days, but she must not be moved, she will need to be cared for here, even a short trip in a carriage could set her back a long way.’

So Annabel would have to stay here, Jack could see nothing wrong with that idea, it sounded excellent to him, he saw Doctor Mackenzie off and then ordered his housekeeper to make up the guestroom. But when she arrived a short while later Mrs Black clearly didn’t view the nursing of Annabel back to health in the same way that he did, she settled Annabel into her room and assured herself that there was no immediate danger, then she sought out Jack who had been waiting in the drawing room. ‘I am terribly sorry to impose on you,’ she said, apologetically but firmly, making it clear that she intended to impose whether he liked it or not, ‘but obviously I will need to stay here to nurse Annabel,’ she paused, seemingly casting around to find the words to express something he expected he wouldn’t want to hear and Jack seized the chance to offer her some tea, hoping to divert her, but Mrs Black was not a woman who was easily diverted. ‘I am sure… I know you are a gentleman of outstanding character and we owe you a great debt of gratitude for rescuing Annabel from that evil man, but at the moment her reputation is in a very delicate state, ordinarily I’m sure it would excite no comment, your sheltering a sick friend under your roof, but when the story of her kidnapping gets out – and it will – and it is known that she is staying here, people will talk and talk can be extremely damaging, in short Annabel’s whole future may be affected unless you will do her one more great courtesy and remove yourself from here for the next few days, and yes, tea would be very welcome,’ Mrs Black added, looking at him pleadingly.

She was right, he of all people, with his experience in finding meaning in the nuances of what people said in the course of his investigations, knew she was right. For a brief, giddy moment Jack considered announcing to Mrs Black as he had to Doctor Mackenzie that he and Annabel were engaged, which would not only lend respectability to the situation, but would render unnecessary the need to preserve Annabel’s reputation in order that she could in future make a good match. But it was one thing to tell a friend that Annabel was his fiancée without having yet received her agreement, it was quite another to tell his putative fiancée’s mother. With great regret he realized he had no real choice.

‘I shall of course repair to my club,’ he said, not only was White’s the most convenient place for him to put up for the next few days, but it had the advantage of being very public, everyone would know that he had not spent any time living with Annabel. He thought Mrs Black could see the obvious benefit as well because lines on her face which he thought had been placed there by age suddenly disappeared as she relaxed and drank her tea.

Comfortable as the accommodation was at White’s, Jack chaffed at being there, he wanted to talk to Annabel as soon as possible, to discuss their future, so at ten o’clock the next morning he sent Mills around to his house to enquire after Annabel’s health, with the expectation that his valet would return with a favourable report and then he himself would be able to call on her in the afternoon, but although Annabel had improved Mills did not return with the news that Jack wanted to hear. ‘Miss Black was sleeping soundly when I was there, sir,’ he said, ‘Mrs Black said she wants to keep her very quiet for at least the next two days, very clear on that she was, if you take my meaning.’ Jack did, he drummed his fingers irritably on the arm of the leather armchair in which he was seated, drained his glass of brandy in one gulp and decided to go riding to work off his frustration.

On Sunday, keen at least to have vicarious contact with Annabel, Jack went to church at St Joseph’s, and he was rewarded by finding both Colonel Black and Henry there. ‘Annabel’s doing much better,’ Colonel Black said, sounding a little surprised, ‘we expect her to come home any day now. Thank you for the loan of your house,’ he added belatedly. Jack felt very cheered, if Annabel were as well as that then nothing would stop him from visiting her that afternoon, in anticipation he ran his fingers over the ring in his pocket, it was a dark, honey-coloured gold, with a cluster of garnets in the shape of a star, he hoped Annabel would like it, he had seen her once in the very same colour, and looking back he wondered if that had been the moment in which he had fallen in love with her. He was pleased with himself, he might not have been able to see Annabel on Saturday, but he had put his time to good use in choosing the prefect engagement ring, and it should be fitted on her finger by tea time that afternoon.

But when he arrived at his house that afternoon Mrs Black told him that Annabel was still very tired and could not have visitors that day. ‘I understood she was doing well,’ Jack said, a small wave of anxiety washing over him.

‘She is, she is,’ Mrs Black said at once, sounding quite kindly, but Jack was oblivious to that, ‘but she is very overwrought, she hasn’t really recovered from the horror of being kidnapped,’ a small shadow passed over her face and it brought Jack to his senses.