Picture Perfect (9 page)

‘Neither have I!’

‘Miss Beresford,’ the maid said, handing her a cup. ‘Miss Justine.’

‘Oh,’ Annabel said and again wondered how to express her discomfort regarding her name. ‘About my name, that is…’

‘You are the elder twin, my dear,’ Lady Beresford said firmly. ‘As such you will be known as Miss Beresford and all the servants have been instructed to henceforth address Justine as Miss Justine.’

‘But-’

‘I don’t mind in the least!’ Justine exclaimed. ‘It is a very small change to make in return for gaining a sister.’

‘But I…’ it was on the tip of Annabel’s tongue to say she was not Miss Hannah Beresford and wanted only to be known as Annabel Black but when she looked at Lady Beresford she saw an unexpected vulnerability on her face. ‘Would it displease you very much if I were to keep the name I have grown up with?’ she said instead. She saw Lady Beresford struggle to conceal her disappointment and said hastily, ‘But I would like it very much if you would call me Hannah at home.’ With relief she saw that she had said just the right thing, she had wondered if it was too presumptuous to refer to the Beresfords’ house as home, but apparently it was not. Lady Beresford smiled and pressed her hand affectionately.

‘That would please me very much, dear Hannah. Now, you were telling me of your childhood. You have obviously been beautifully educated, did you have a governess?’

With growing ease, Annabel found herself relating stories about the three governesses she had had and about the various houses the Blacks had lived in, Justine matching her with tales of her own childhood which Annabel found fascinating. There seemed to be so many similarities; as small children both of them had hated having their hair attended to, both of them had a particular fondness for plums and both of them had initially detested their dancing lessons and then quite unexpectedly come to love them.

‘I will never forget Monsieur Blanc’s face the first time I completed a pavane flawlessly,’ Justine said gaily. ‘Every time up until that moment I had tripped over my own feet and I always ended the dance scowling furiously, but that time I had not only made no mistake, I had loved it, I had felt as if I were flying! Monsieur Blanc didn’t know what to say, he had tried to be so encouraging and he found that when at last I succeeded, he had no compliments left to give me.’

From the front hall a grandfather clock chimed six o’clock. ‘My goodness,’ Lady Beresford exclaimed. ‘How quickly time has passed, Justine, you must show Hannah to her room so she can dress for dinner.’

‘There is a connecting door between our rooms,’ Justine told Annabel as she led her upstairs. ‘We we can talk while we dress. I hope you won’t object to sharing my maid, Hudson is very talented with hair. She is a highly experienced ladies’ maid, we just acquired her this month, before that she was with the Duchess of Exeter. Look, this is your room,’ Justine led her into a pale blue room with even paler blue curtains and bed coverings, and then threw open another door. ‘And this is my room.’

‘Good evening Miss Beresford, Miss Justine,’ a maid, Hudson, Annabel presumed, spoke and bobbed a curtsey as they entered a pink room which seemed to complement the blue room next door.

‘Good evening, Hudson,’ Justine said and then she glanced at Annabel.

Feeling a little intimidated by this impeccably turned out and highly experienced ladies’ maid, Annabel did her best to adopt Justine’s calm manner. ‘Good evening,’ she said, but couldn’t quite bring herself to address such a woman simply as Hudson. ‘I would be pleased if you would call me Miss Black, that is the name I prefer.’ She wanted to add that she had said as much to Lady Beresford and had been given her consent, but she managed to stop herself, she was not required to justify herself, and a maid such as Hudson would never expect her to do so.

‘So I shall reclaim Miss Beresford as my title,’ Justine said casually.

‘Very good, Miss Black and Miss Beresford,’ Hudson said. ‘What dress does Miss Black favour for tonight?’

‘
I wonder if all our tastes are the same?’ Justine said some little while later when she was seated at her dressing table, her hair in Hudson’s expert hands.

‘I prefer coffee to tea,’ Annabel said ‘and I detest Brussels’ sprouts.’

Justine laughed. ‘Everyone detests Brussels’ sprouts, my dear, they are a pitiful excuse for an edible vegetable. But I was thinking of things other than food. For instance, would you rather dance with a fair haired man or a dark?’

‘Which ever was the better dancer,’ Annabel said promptly and Justine laughed.

‘What do you think of moustaches?’ she asked. ‘I do not care for them myself.’

‘I, er,’ Annabel shook her head. ‘I try not to judge a man solely on the basis of his appearance,’ she said, then honesty forced her to continue. ‘But I must confess I don’t like them, they make young men look as if they wished to appear older and old men look as if they are trying to appear younger.’

‘Oh, that is exactly it!’ Justine exclaimed. ‘It is as if you had read my mind and put my very thoughts into words for me.’

‘Your hair is finished, Miss Beresford,’ Hudson said. ‘If it pleases you, I shall fetch some light refreshment.’

As she left the room, Justine turned to Annabel with a conspiratorial air. ‘You must have had some dancing at the Lockton House ball before we arrived. Were there any young men in particular with whom you enjoyed dancing?’

Annabel shook her head and laughed. ‘It was the very first ball of my very first season, I am not looking to form an attachment nearly so soon,’ but despite her words Mr Denham sprang to mind immediately. At once she tried to banish the thought. Mr Denham was Justine’s friend, she barely knew him and he certainly didn’t know her.

‘Shall, I tell you a secret,’ Justine’s eyes gleamed, ‘but Mama must not know.’

‘What is it?’ Annabel asked a little uneasily, not entirely sure she wanted to hear.

Justine leaned closer. ‘I have an unspoken understanding with someone.’

Annabel could not stifle a gasp. ‘Is he, is the gentleman highly unsuitable?’ she asked. She could not imagine any other reason why Justine would wish to keep such a thing secret from her mother.

‘No, not at all!’ Justine laughed. ‘But mama is so enjoying plotting on my behalf and sizing up every new eligible bachelor in the
ton
, and I should hate to spoil her fun so early in the season.’

‘Who is the gentleman?’ Annabel ventured, somewhat reassured.

Justine smiled wickedly. ‘Why, he will join us at supper tonight. See if you can guess which he is, and when you think you know, drop your fan at his foot. When he bends to retrieve it I will nod or shake my head. Don’t you think that will be a marvellous game?’

‘But how could I even begin to guess who it is?’ Annabel asked. ‘I have never met your friends and I may not even speak to the gentleman.’

‘Oh, I am sure you will.’ Justine put her hand on Annabel’s. ‘If we are as alike as we appear, you will divine him easily, just follow your heart.’

Annabel had chosen to wear her favourite peach silk dress that evening, but although her mirror, Hudson and Justine all told her she looked beautiful, her heart was in her mouth as she and Justine went downstairs to join Lord and Lady Beresford in the drawing room where they were to receive their guests.

Lord Beresford seemed quite taken aback when he saw them both. ‘Enchanting, my dears, quite enchanting,’ he said.

‘You will be quite a hit at the next ball you attend,’ Lady Beresford said, her eyes narrowed with what Annabel hoped was contemplation not criticism.

‘I think we made quite an impact at the last one,’ Annabel murmured, uncomfortable with the scrutiny.

Lady Beresford clapped her hands together. ‘I have just had the most marvellous idea! We shall have new dresses made for both of you and you shall be dressed exactly the same, the effect will be stunning, everyone will notice you!’

‘Jolly good idea,’ Lord Beresford enthused. ‘Tell the world you’re one of us, eh?’

‘What fun!’ Justine said and turned to Annabel, ‘Don’t you think so?’

‘Oh, yes,’ Annabel said automatically, but in truth she had mixed feelings about the plan, it would be fun to be identical, but she thought of the wardrobe she and her mother had put so much care into and felt as if she were betraying herself by planning to leave it behind. Then she gave herself a mental shake, she was over reacting, she and Justine would not be dressed in the same fashion at every function they attended but it would be fun to appear the same once or twice and see the surprise on people’s faces and perhaps to tease the young men who asked them to dance.

There was a knock on the front door followed by footsteps in the hall. ‘Our first guests, I think,’ said Lord Beresford and a moment later a couple about Lord and Lady Beresford’s own age, accompanied by a son and daughter, were shown into the drawing room by Parsons, the butler.

There seemed to be a flurry of introductions and exclamations on the likeness of the twins, all of which were swiftly repeated when the next set of guests arrived, and the next and the next. Annabel knew she could not remember any names other than those of Mr and Mrs Padgett and their children Charles and Amelia, who had been the first family to arrive, but the drawing room seemed quite crowded, so surely they couldn’t be expecting any more. Lord Beresford seemed to be of the same mind as Annabel. ‘That the lot then?’ he asked, looking as if he were prepared to sidle away in search of a drink.

‘Not quite,’ Justine said, a small smile playing around her lips. At that moment Parsons opened the drawing room door once more.

‘Mr Denham,’ he said.

Annabel felt her heart skip a beat, somehow she hadn’t expected Mr Denham to have been numbered among the Beresford’s thirty closest friends, but here he was. She was so glad to see him, the air of calm authority with which he had managed the situation at the ball on Wednesday had done a lot to help her through that difficult time, but it was more than that, each time she had met she had found she had enjoyed being with him even more, despite, or perhaps because of, the oddness of their conversations. She stepped forward, smiling in welcome, and then she realised that Justine had stepped forward in greeting too, her face lit up by a smile and Annabel had the sinking feeling that their expressions were identical.

Jack took Justine’s hand first, bowed and kissed it, then he took Annabel’s hand, but he didn’t say a word and it dawned on Annabel that he couldn’t tell which of them was which. She felt a small bubble of laughter grow within her and she was fairly sure that Mr Denham felt rather piqued at being flummoxed. Then his lips brushed the back of her hand and she gasped at the wholly unexpected sensation, her laughter vanishing, swept away by feelings she couldn’t even begin to name.

‘Miss Black,’ Jack said, looking her straight in the eye.

‘How did you know?’ Annabel demanded. ‘You didn’t know when you looked at us.’

Jack glanced momentarily at Justine and then his eyes came back to ensnare Annabel’s. ‘Despite appearances, the difference between you is unmistakable,’ he said and Annabel realised he was still holding her hand. Jack seemed to notice at the same time. He released her and turned smoothly to Lady Beresford. ‘Lady Beresford, it is good to see that you have quite recovered’

‘How kind of you, Mr Denham,’ Lady Beresford said coquettishly and Annabel glanced sharply at her. Lady Beresford seemed quite as taken with Mr Denham as Justine and herself. Did he charm everyone, she thought with sudden irritability, did all women feel special and interesting when he spoke with them, or was it a particular affliction of the Beresford line? ‘Now you are here, we may proceed to dinner,’ Lady Beresford said. Jack glanced quickly back at Justine and Annabel, and seemed to be thinking a thought that Annabel couldn’t fathom, then he politely offered his arm to Lady Beresford and Annabel found herself trailing in their wake into the dining room. Justine, she saw, looked equally disconcerted, but it was thin consolation.

Dinner, however, proved more satisfactory, Annabel found she was seated next to Mr Denham. Justine, opposite them, seemed to be happily engaged in chatting to Charles Padgett, so happily in fact that Annabel revised her assumption that Jack was the man with whom her sister had an unspoken understanding. Feeling a certain amount of relief, she smiled at him.

‘How do you prefer to be addressed these days?’ Mr Denham said solemnly, but Annabel had the feeling he was teasing her.

‘I will continue to be known as Miss Black,’ she said, narrowing her eyes, ‘Lady Beresford had expected me to take the family name, but I could never get used to such a change.’

‘Never?’ Mr Denham raised his eyebrows. ‘But young ladies such as yourself take new names on a daily basis all over England.’

‘They do not!’ Annabel said indignantly and then took his meaning. ‘Oh, but marriage is different. One takes the name of someone whom one has known for some time and with whom one has formed an attachment, a lady does not take the name of a perfect stranger!’

‘Still, you could hardly be expecting to keep your surname for many more years,’ Jack argued. ‘Why didn’t you take on Beresford as an interim measure, it is a highly respected name.’