Picture Perfect (30 page)

‘I’m sorry,’ he said, ‘you can hardly have got over the shock of it yourself, and here am I badgering you for news.’

‘Not at all,’ said Mrs Black, ‘we are so very grateful to you and I am sure that Annabel will wish to see you as soon as she is well, but for the moment it is best that she have no visitors.’

‘Then I shall wait to hear from her,’ Jack said with as much dignity as he could muster despite his disappointment. ‘Could you please tell her, when she is well enough of course, that I look forward to hearing from her and she must feel free to send me a message at any time,’ he wanted to add
day or night
, but he thought Mrs Black seemed far too sensible to convey such melodramatic sentiments, so he refrained. Then he left, telling himself that it did not matter if his proposal to Annabel were postponed by a day or two, but he did not manage to convince himself.

‘
Your young man called,’ Mrs Black said cheerfully when she took a bowl of chicken soup up to Annabel that evening. Annabel was sitting up in bed, playing patience and for a moment she allowed herself to feel hope, but it was a mistake, Jack wasn’t and never would be her young man, if he wanted to speak to her it was only to get a clear cut confession out of her regarding the art thefts.

‘I don’t want to see him,’ she mumbled.

‘I gathered as much,’ said Mrs Black, ‘but you can’t avoid him forever, you know.’

‘When can we go home?’ Annabel asked abruptly, even though she knew she hadn’t been accommodated in Jack’s bedroom, everything in here reminded her of him, from the wardrobe containing his winter coat, obviously hung there to be out of the way, to the blue curtains which exactly matched his eyes. It was too bittersweet to be so close to the life she could never have and even though she knew she’d miss even this tenuous connection to Jack when she left, she wanted to go home.

‘The doctor is coming tomorrow,’ said Mrs Black, ‘if he gives you a clean bill of health we will leave on Tuesday.’

‘A note for you, sir,’ Mills said two days later, interrupting Jack as he pored over plans for the Royal Academy’s summer exhibition which was to open on Friday and upon which Jack had reluctantly made himself concentrate. Jack ripped it open; it was from Annabel and was short and to the point.

Dear Mr Denham,

Thank you for your hospitality, my mother and I will impose no longer.

Yours truly,

She was leaving his house, perhaps at that very moment! ‘Pack these up for me, will you?’ Jack said to Mills and raced for home, but he was too late, when he got there Annabel and her mother had left and to Jack his desirable bachelor residence had never seemed emptier.

Chapter 16

Annabel was right, as soon as she left Jack’s house on Tuesday she felt even more heartsick. She still stung from Jack’s rejection, she had suggested that she become his mistress and he had told her that he didn’t consider her a fit person even for that dubious honour, but now that she was home and even the last, tenuous connection she had with Jack had gone she truly felt as if her heart was broken. How she could have been so wrong about the connection between them, she didn’t know, Jack obviously didn’t feel the same way she did yet she couldn’t shake the persistent feeling that he’d said he loved her so much he’d even be prepared to take up art theft for her, but that must have been a delusion caused by her fever, Jack would clearly never ever consider such a thing. She wondered if she would ever see him again and then she remembered that the summer exhibition opened on Friday, she could hardly have forgotten, Colonel Black had been hovering anxiously around her sickbed hoping she would be well enough to go with him and of course after the theft at the preview Jack was bound to be there sleuthing around. Although, she thought despairingly, if he was really convinced she was the thief, perhaps he wouldn’t go, perhaps he would simply send some Bow Street Runners to arrest her when she made to leave.

She went to bed early that night and dreamt vivid dreams in which she was running down a long corridor hung with sumptuous oil paintings which she wanted to look at but there wasn’t time because people were chasing her. Jack was there, but he was trying to help her escape from her pursuers, then at last they were free and he was kissing her deliciously, at first on the gravelly shore of the Thames at low tide, then in Vauxhall Pleasure Gardens and last of all at Almack’s, then annoyingly Mr Leahey was there saying ‘May I cut in?’ it woke Annabel up and suddenly she knew what to do.

She was going to catch the thief and clear her name and then she was going to tell Jack exactly what she thought of him. She leapt out of bed feeling completely better and rang for her maid. While Laura helped her to dress she scrawled a hasty note to her cousins stating her intention to call on them that morning. Morning was an unfashionably early time to pay a call, but that was all for the best as far as Annabel was concerned, it meant that her cousins were most likely to be in. The summer exhibition opened in two days time, the thief would be bound to take advantage of it so she and her cousins needed to make a plan. They would catch him red-handed and that would show Jack for once and for all how mistaken he had been. Annabel couldn’t wait.

‘
So we’re agreed,’ Annabel said two hours later, ‘Augusta will keep an eye on Lord Seaforth, Madeline, you will take Lord Kent, which should be easy as he seems to have a fondness for your company anyway, and I shall follow Mr Leahey.’

‘Then if we catch them in the act of stealing we are to scream as loudly as possible and hold tight to them,’ Augusta said a little dubiously.

‘Yes,’ Annabel said a little impatiently, she was well aware that as a plan it had flaws, but it was the best any of them had been able to come up with and she was determined to make it work. ‘Grab the end of the man’s tailcoat, you don’t have to put your arms around him.’

‘He’d probably slip out of it,’ Madeline pointed out.

‘That wouldn’t matter,’ Annabel said at once, ‘we’d still have his jacket, which would be the proof we need.’ That might even be for the best, she thought, her experiences the other night had shown her that being a lady was no guarantee of the conduct of unscrupulous men.

Her cousins bade her stay for lunch and when she arrived home later that afternoon there was a note waiting for her. Annabel recognized Jack’s handwriting at once and she slit the letter open with a suddenly trembling hand, she wanted so much to hear from him yet she was sure she wouldn’t like what he had to say. In the relative privacy of the front hall she read his message.

My Dearest Annabel

I must meet with you to discuss a matter close to both our hearts, please may I call on you this afternoon?

Yours,

Jack

She almost wanted to cry, how could he be so callous, scorning her one moment and addressing her as his dearest Annabel the next? She wanted to shake the letter in his face and ask him what sort of game he was playing, but equally she didn’t think she could stand it if he accused her of stealing the paintings one more time, and what if he ran out of patience, decided not to wait for a confession but simply had her arrested on the strength of his suspicions? She couldn’t meet with him, she mustn’t see him before Friday afternoon when they would all gather at Somerset House. Even then it would be better if she could avoid him until after they had caught the thief, but that probably wasn’t possible. In a decisive movement she crumpled up his note, she wouldn’t reply, she’d leave him waiting, besides, she had something important to do this afternoon, she had to decide what to wear to the exhibition opening. When she caught the thief and showed Jack how wrong he was, she wanted to look stunning.

When Friday afternoon came Annabel put on the pale violet silk dress she had selected with great care on Wednesday afternoon. The dress was low cut, edged with delicate embroidery, and clung perfectly to her figure then flared out over her hips into a glorious swirl. Usually she didn’t wear any purple, thinking it wouldn’t go with her warm, brown hair with its hint of red, but this particular shade complimented it perfectly and when Laura expertly entwined a matching ribbon through the high chignon she had fashioned Annabel knew she had made the right choice. She stood before the cheval mirror and was very pleased with what she saw, she looked both poised and desirable and Jack would rue the day on which he had turned her down.

‘You look a picture, my dear,’ Colonel Black said when she came downstairs.

‘Hmmn,’ her mother said thoughtfully, ‘perhaps I should come with you after all to act as chaperone, your father will be very taken up looking at paintings and in that dress the young men will be flocking to you.’

‘I’m sure they won’t,’ Annabel said, alarmed, she had been counting on her mother’s absence to allow her to follow Dermot Leahey, if Mrs Black were there she could not hope to be excused the normal round of greetings that marked the beginnings of all society events. ‘Aunt Delilah will be there,’ she added hastily, remembering. Aunt Delilah would not keep nearly such a close eye on her as her mother would, valuing the occasion highly, but only for its social merits and the corresponding opportunities which might be presented for her daughters.

‘I suppose so,’ Mrs Black said, not looking very convinced by the idea of her sister-in-law as chaperone.

‘
We must be going,’ Annabel said quickly, before her mother could think the better of it, taking her father by the arm and leading him out of the front door to where Bill was patiently waiting with their carriage in the street.

Even though Annabel and her father were among the first to arrive at the official opening of the summer exhibition there was already a heady atmosphere with the women in their most summery dresses, with the men impeccably dressed in tailcoats and gleaming white cravats while the buzz of excited conversation floated on the air of the large, cool gallery.

‘My word, look at that,’ Colonel Black said, indicating an enormous painting of Troilus and Cressida which dominated the far wall of the room. ‘You’ll be all right here, won’t you?’ he added vaguely and without really waiting for Annabel’s murmured assent he took out his eyeglass and marched towards the work. It was just as Annabel had hoped, she was free to do exactly as she pleased, her father wouldn’t think of her again until it was time to leave, and that wouldn’t be for hours yet, she would have caught the thief and rendered Jack speechless with admiration and guilt long before Colonel Black next sought her out. Quickly she scanned the room, her cousins weren’t here yet and neither was Lord Kent, but Lord Seaforth and Dermot Leahey were both holding court in front of different paintings, surrounded by small groups of devotees, for the moment it was clear that neither was going anywhere and she was easily able to keep them in her sight as she perused the paintings.

Another wave of people entered the room and Annabel hoped her cousins would arrive soon as Mr Leahey moved on to discuss a different painting, hung rather too near the doorway of the next gallery for Annabel’s liking. She edged a little closer to him and then realized that the open doorway would be a good vantage point from which to keep an eye on both her suspects. No one seemed to have ventured into the second gallery yet and she loitered in its entranceway pretending to admire a small painting of puppies marred in one corner by what looked like the bite marks from a real dog, perhaps the artist had sought to give his work extra authenticity, she thought doubtfully, or perhaps he had simply been got the better of by his pets.

A strong had closed softly but firmly on her bare arm and Annabel knew instantly by the way her skin tingled in response that it was Jack. ‘This picture is not really up to your usual standard,’ he said softly in her ear, ‘let me show you some others,’ and he began to lead her into the next room.

Angrily Annabel tried to jerk her arm away, but although Jack’s touch was gentle, his grip was sure and she could not release herself. Part of her knew that she could have tried harder, she certainly could have made a scene and any one of twenty or thirty gallants would have come to her rescue, keen to show their chivalry before this elite gathering of their peers, but that would only draw attention to herself, and it was important that Mr Leahey remain unaware of her for as long as possible, at least that was what she told herself as she permitted Jack to draw her into the fragile intimacy of the as yet deserted second gallery room.

She had thought he would free her once they were alone, but instead of doing so he turned her to face him, taking both her hands in his own. ‘Annabel,’ he said earnestly, ‘you must give this up, it will only end in disaster, I will protect you as much as I can, but it may not be enough.’ For one disconcerting moment she thought he was talking about her plan to catch Mr Leahey, which did hold an element of danger, although she had studiously tried to avoid thinking about that, but then she realized he knew nothing of her scheme and was persisting in his belief that she intended to steal a picture herself.

‘You know nothing about it,’ she said as steadily as she could, but his very nearness was making her heart beat faster and she found her lips parting a little as she wondered if he would kiss her. Voices floated through the doorway to them and Jack pulled her closer as if that would hide her from the intruders. Dizzy with his nearness Annabel couldn’t help smiling up at him and the next thing she knew he was kissing her as passionately as he had done that night on the shore of the river, only this time it was much better because she wasn’t freezing cold, soaked to the skin and she could give herself up to the pure enjoyment of the way her whole body seemed to glow at the touch of his lips, and how strong and hard he felt when she pressed against him through the sheer silk of her dress.