Picture Perfect (32 page)

To her vast relief she found she had guessed right, Mr Leahey emerged, quietly shut the door behind him and even used his pick to lock it again, then he led her back through the maze of little passages and down the stairs, pausing at last at the door to the store room from which he had extracted the substitute painting. Annabel’s heart sank, she knew what he was going to do, he was going to leave the painting there, all wrapped up and anonymous, for later collection and the moment he put the Reubens down there would be nothing at all to link him to it, if she were going to confront him red-handed she would have to do it now. Heart beating hard she waited until he had turned the handle to the store room and was about to pull it open. What if they were too far away from the galleries for anyone to hear her cries? She strained her ears and could just hear the hum of the five hundred or so visitors all talking painting, they were engrossed, they would never hear her. Would it be enough for her simply to tell Jack what she had seen and to show him where Mr Leahey had hidden the painting, or would he think it was an elaborate ruse to shift suspicion off herself? Undecided she stepped back and her luck ran out. Her slipper crunched on a piece of chalk and Mr Leahey heard her.

He whirled round, his eyes wild and looked directly at her. Annabel was suddenly afraid, even more afraid than she had been when she had been kidnapped; for the men who had held her prisoner had been intent on keeping her alive while all she read in Mr Leahey’s eyes was cold-blooded fury.

‘I… I seem to have lost my way,’ instinct took over and she tried to bluff it out.

‘You followed me,’ he knew, he knew what she had seen, he knew she knew everything, his eyes were glinting dangerously and she took another step back.

‘No,’ she said, not sounding credible even to her own ears. He put the painting down and advanced upon her. He had obviously thought he would have more time to secure his package when back into store room, for the paper was only draped loosely over it and it slipped down unmistakably revealing the Reubens within. Annabel’s eyes widened at the sight and Mr Leahey followed her gaze to the exposed painting. If he hadn’t been sure she knew he was the art thief before he certainly knew now. With a muffled curse he sprang at her and Annabel screamed, swinging her reticule at him in a feeble attempt to fight him off and remembering even as she did so, how ineffectual a defence it had been before. Dermot Leahey grabbed her roughly by her upper arms, pinioning her against the wall and she screamed again, praying Jack would hear her, but knowing it was impossible, they were too far away from the galleries for her to be heard, Jack wouldn’t save her this time.

Chapter 17

Annabel screamed for a third time, terror flooding her as she realised that no one was coming and Mr Leahey jerked her arms viciously behind her back, forcing her into the little store room.

‘Help!’ she cried, ‘Jack!’ somehow she couldn’t quite shake the belief that he would be there for her.

‘Release her, Leahey, or I’ll shoot you where you stand!’ Miracle beyond miracles, it was Jack, standing not a few feet from them with a gun in his hand pointed directly at Dermot Leahey. Annabel felt a great surge of love, he had come to save her, she didn’t know how he’d known she needed him, but it didn’t matter, he was here.

‘Shoot me and you risk hitting the girl!’ Mr Leahey rasped. Jack’s gun didn’t waver but Annabel saw that he was right. Suddenly she realised that her right arm was free and Mr Leahey was looking only at Jack. Without giving herself time to consider the consequences Annabel snatched up a small marble sculpture of what could have been a cat which had been precariously balanced on top of a stack of paintings. Its neck was just the right size for her to get a firm grip on it and with all her strength she swung it squarely at the back of Mr Leahey’s head.

He toppled over instantly. ‘Have I killed him?’ Annabel gasped not knowing whether to hope she had or she hadn’t.

‘Who cares?’ said Jack, but he nudged Mr Leahey with the toe of his boot and he gave a faint moan. Jack glanced around the storeroom and snagged a coil of sisal hanging from a hook on the window frame. He knelt down and deftly tied Mr Leahey’s hands together behind his back. Only then did Annabel let out the breath she hadn’t been aware of holding, only then did she feel safe. She lifted her eyes to Jack’s, wanting to say so much and finding herself speechless, but it didn’t matter. In a single move Jack drew her out of the store room and swept her into his arms, holding her tightly with her head nestled under his chin for a long, long moment. Then he brushed her temple with a kiss.

‘We must send men to deal with him,’ he murmured, ‘then we must talk.’

Annabel pulled back from Jack sharply so she could look at him, suddenly realising that what she had feared had come to pass, Jack had not seen Dermot Leahey holding a stolen painting, he had not arrived on the scene to see him clutch the Reubens to his chest while Annabel declared
It was you, Mr Leahey, it was you all along, you are the notorious art thief!
It would be her word against his. ‘Mr Leahey is the man who has been stealing all those pictures,’ she said passionately, ‘I know you think it was me, but it wasn’t, I swear. I saw him, he took a Madonna and Child from a room upstairs and wrapped it up, look, here it is!’ She waved to the painting propped carelessly against the door frame, its subject matter only half concealed by the brown paper. A slight smile curved Jack’s lips and she wanted to shake him, she had caught the art thief, together they had incapacitated him and there would be no more thefts, if only Jack would believe her instead of standing there smirking like that. It all really boiled down to one thing, she thought. ‘Do you trust me?’ she demanded and watched as his smile faded and his face became utterly serious.

‘With my life,’ he said seriously, and then he kissed her.

‘But…’ she said after a few minutes when she could bear to tear herself apart from him.

‘Shhh,’ he said and proceeded to kiss her repeatedly on her cheeks, her neck, her hair and her lips. ‘I followed you,’ he said between kisses, ‘I was watching you all evening and then when you disappeared to follow Leahey I followed you too. I saw him take the Reubens and I remembered he’d had opportunities to steal pictures every other time; he was the featured artist at the Dulwich Picture Gallery when the first painting was stolen, no one would have questioned him poking around behind the scenes and, between the two of us we set him up beautifully at Almack’s, I asked him to keep watch over the bait and you provided a sort of alibi when he went off to steal the Velázquez.’

‘He told me to wait by the door!’ Annabel said indignantly, realising how Mr Leahey had used her, but Jack quelled her with another kiss.

‘That was when I first started wondering if it were you,’ he said ruefully after a few more moments had elapsed. ‘If I give you a thousand kissed do you think you might forgive me?’

Annabel gasped at his audacity but had to admit to herself that the prospect sounded delightful. ‘You’ll have to try and see,’ she murmured.

‘One… two…’

A little while later they were interrupted by a moan from the storeroom. ‘My darling,’ Jack said, and Annabel relished his endearment, it was as intimate as a kiss, ‘I must send some men to deal with Leahey and there are various other people I need to speak to in order to see that the Reubens is restored to its rightful position and not sent home to…’ he glanced at the name pencilled onto the brown paper wrapping, ‘…Miss Augusta Black!’

Annabel gasped, ‘It had nothing to do with her, I promise, I had no idea she had submitted any work, she never said a word and she certainly didn’t tell me of her disappointment in not having her work selected for the exhibition.’

Jack raised his eyebrows, ‘I don’t think your cousin should be too disappointed,’ he said, ‘after all her picture is now hanging in the most prestigious spot in the whole building.’

Annabel felt laughter welling up inside her like a spring, ‘Come,’ she clasped Jack’s hand, ‘I must tell her!’

As they entered the gallery, so full of chattering people who had no idea of the drama which had just taken place only a few steps away Jack found himself loathe to relinquish Annabel’s hand, but he had delayed quite enough already, if he didn’t send his men to secure Leahey soon, he would be gone, he was obviously a skilled criminal and a short length of sisal and a knock on the head wouldn’t keep him in one place for long. ‘Promise me you won’t do anything rash,’ he said, Annabel should surely be quite safe in the very public arena of the summer exhibition, but she seemed to court danger and he didn’t like letting her out of his sight, only the thought that if he didn’t take action regarding Leahey soon the man would shortly be free to take his revenge on Annabel forced him to leave her.

‘I promise,’ Annabel said, looking at him quite wide-eyed as if she couldn’t possibly imagine what he was talking about and Jack had to quell the impulse to kiss her again. He ran his thumb over the backs of her fingers, let her go and strode off to find his men before he could change his mind.

Jack knew his instincts about Leahey had been right. When he returned to the storeroom with a few strong-armed servants, Leahey was still bound, but was sitting up, working the twine against the metal foot of a painting easel, he glared at Jack and swore volubly at him.

‘None of that,’ one of Jack’s men said, hauling Leahey to his feet none too gently and handcuffing him, but Jack was indifferent to Leahey’s profanities, his heart was singing, Annabel was not the thief, nothing now stood as a blemish on their forthcoming marriage. It occurred to him that of course he had not yet proposed and then a thought struck him – he must finish with Leahey and put his idea into action as soon as possible.

‘Denham,’ Leahey pleaded, changing his tune, ‘I thought we were friends, can’t you see this is just a misunderstanding, I never meant to take the wretched painting, it was just a joke.’

Jack looked at him coldly, he didn’t believe him for an instant. All he could see in his mind’s eye was Annabel struggling in Leahey’s clutches, he suspected that having been caught Leahey had planned to lock Annabel in the storeroom with the Reubens and claim he had caught her stealing it. He thanked heaven that he had mistrusted her enough to follow her and had seen for himself Leahey emerge from the inner sanctum with the stolen painting in his arms because if he hadn’t seen that for himself he might have believed Leahey, and then he would have had the devil’s own job protecting Annabel from the law. ‘Take him to the magistrates,’ he said, turned on his heel and left.

Next he had to inform the directors of the Royal Academy what had taken place. He found one of them easily enough, Lord Sanderton was surrounded by a group of earnest art admirers while he discussed the merits of a group of sculptures in marble which stood on a sideboard at one end of the room. Jack was amused to see Colonel Black among the numbers of his devotees, perhaps he could kill two birds with one stone and ask for Annabel’s hand in marriage after he had apprised Lord Sanderton of the situation. ‘A word in your ear, sir,’ he said when the director paused for a moment in his lecture. ‘The art thief who had been plaguing society is under arrest and you’ll find that a Reubens which is missing from your drawing room is in the corridor by a small store room on the first floor.’

‘What!’ Lord Sanderton rounded on him. Lord Sanderton was elderly and might be hard of hearing but Jack didn’t want to spend any more time apart from Annabel than he had to until she were safely married to him or at least engaged so he repeated what he had said just once, then bowed and excused himself before he could be asked for any details.

He cast around quickly for Annabel and for a moment he thought he was hallucinating as his vision doubled so that he saw two bronze-haired girls in clinging violet dresses and then he realized that Annabel was talking to Justine.

As she made her way through the crowded room to find her cousins Annabel’s heart was singing, she had proven her innocence and caught the art thief, Jack believed in her, and he loved her, true he hadn’t actually said as much, but his actions had spoken louder than words, even now just thinking about his kisses brought a tingle to her body. She saw Madeline still chatting cosily with Lord Kent and had to smother a laugh, at least there was no need now to tell Madeline to keep her distance, her cousin looked as if she were enjoying Lord Kent’s company far too much to have complied anyway.

‘Annabel,’ Justine’s hand on her arm stopped her in her tracks, Justine smiled at her in a rather condescending way and Annabel suspected uneasily that she wasn’t going to enjoy hearing what her sister had to say. ‘It was so brave of you to come, but are you sure you should be up and about so soon after your ordeal, you are looking rather flushed.

‘Am I?’ Annabel said in surprise, putting a hand up to touch her cheek, she didn’t feel hot and bothered, she felt exhilarated.

‘As I said,’ Justine continued, ‘it was very brave of you to come out in public given the state of your reputation, however I do think you would have done better to have retired for the rest of the season to let people forget all about it.’

‘Last time we spoke you recommended I relocate to York,’ Annabel said, looking rather hard at Justine as the conversation they had had shortly before her collapse at Jack’s house came back to her. As far as she was aware no one other than her two families and Jack knew that she had been kidnapped, yet Justine persisted in claiming that she was ruined; she wondered what Justine hoped to achieve by pursuing this idea.