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Authors: Lilac Lacey

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BOOK: Picture Perfect
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Annabel dropped her eyes. She could hardly explain to herself why she was so reluctant to give up the very ordinary name of Black, so how could she possibly explain to Mr Denham? ‘It wouldn’t be right,’ she murmured and applied herself to cutting up her venison.

‘I’m sorry,’ Jack said in an altogether different tone. ‘I didn’t mean to pry, it’s simply that your circumstances are so fascinating, I cannot even begin to imagine what it would be like to meet someone so like oneself that even one’s closest friends couldn’t tell you apart.’

‘So you didn’t know which of us was which when you came in,’ Annabel said triumphantly. I thought you looked rather sheepish!’

‘I did not look sheepish!’ Jack protested, but he was grinning at her. ‘Well, maybe a little, being perhaps the only person to know you both I thought it would be easy to tell the difference, but it wasn’t.’

‘It didn’t take you long though,’ she said. ‘What gave me away?’

‘It was when…’ Jack suddenly seemed to think the better of what he was saying. ‘That is, perhaps it was your amusement, you seemed to tell how put out I was at not being able to tell you apart. Justine wouldn’t have found that funny.’

‘Oh,’ said Annabel, feeling a little reproved. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-’

‘No, no,’ he waved her apology away. ‘I merely meant to illustrate that while you look identical, you have quite different characters.’

‘Do you think so?’ Annabel said dubiously. ‘So far we seem to be very similar.’ She considered mentioning their coinciding views on Brussels’ sprouts, but as an aspect of character it seemed rather superficial.

‘In what little I’ve seen of you,’ Jack said rather decidedly, ‘yes.’

Annabel nibbled on her venison to cover up the small pause that ensued, and into that silence Justine said quite clearly ‘But Jack and my sister were both there! They can tell you all about the theft at Dulwich.’

‘Were you really?’ Charles Padgett looked across the table at them in sudden interest.

‘Yes, we were,’ Jack said, a little coolly, Annabel thought. Mr Padgett didn’t seem to notice however.

‘They’re saying the thief must be a man of quality,’ he went on.

‘Really?’ Jack drawled.

‘Lord Lockton had a Gainsborough stolen on the night of his ball,’ Mr Padgett said enthusiastically. ‘Apparently it was a portrait of a ravishingly beautiful relative of his who was a particular intimate of a certain member of our esteemed royal family in days gone past.’

‘It doesn’t necessarily follow that the thief is a member of society,’ Jack said and Annabel had the feeling he was being drawn into the discussion in spite of himself.

‘Of course it does, sir. How else would he have gained entry to the Lockton ball?’

Jack laughed out loud. ‘Plenty of people other than the guests had access to Lockton house that night,’ he said. ‘Why the staff needed to host such an event outnumber the guests themselves. With so many hirings from outside it would have been easy for the thief to pass himself off as one more serving man.’

‘You speak as if this theft were planned in advance,’ Annabel said in surprise.

‘I’m sure it was,’ Jack said grimly and then a slight smile lifted the corners of his mouth. ‘Why, did you think some opportunistic young man simply took a fancy to the late Miss Jerusha Lockton and cut her out of her frame so he could pin her up on the wall at his club for his friends to admire?’

‘I…, that is to say, I hadn’t given the matter much thought,’ Annabel said stiffly, glaring at him.

‘Perhaps the theft itself was carried out by one of the lower classes,’ Mr Padgett argued, ‘but the instructions can only have come from a gentleman. Possibly the common man would know the value of a Reubens, although personally I doubt it, but to know which portrait among Lord Lockton’s large collection would be sort after by an unscrupulous collector reflects an educated mind.’

‘There is something in that,’ Jack admitted reluctantly. ‘But we are imposing unfairly on the ladies by discussing such unpleasant happenings in their presence. Tell me,’ he continued, ‘don’t you think the resemblance between Miss Beresford and Miss Black quite remarkable?’

‘Quite remarkable,’ Mr Padgett said after a moment. It seemed to Annabel that he had had to make a considerable effort to wrench his mind away from the exciting world of art theft to focus on making polite conversation. She herself would have preferred to continue discussing the thefts, rather than to have her appearance once more put under scrutiny, but she supposed that after this one night she and Justine would be yesterday’s news.

‘It will be quite difficult for their admirers to pay them compliments from now on, don’t you think?’ Jack said innocently.

‘But,’ Mr Padgett glanced at Justine and Annabel saw a faint blush colour his cheeks, ‘but they’re both jolly pretty. What the devil are you talking about?’

‘Exactly,’ Jack said as if Mr Padgett had agreed with him. ‘And when a gentleman says to one or the other ‘Yours are the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen’’ with a fluid movement Jack took Annabel’s hand and gazed intently into her eyes and for a moment she thought he was speaking only to her, then just as abruptly he let go and turned back to the company in general, ‘Miss Black or Miss Beresford will simply say ‘What nonsense, haven’t you met my sister? Her eyes are exactly as beautiful as mine.’ and all the wind will be taken out of her suitor’s sails.’

‘How very droll,’ Justine laughed lightly, then she turned to Mr Padgett. ‘You needn’t worry, Charles, if you ever say such a thing to me I shouldn’t be nearly as rude as Jack makes out, why I would be so overcome by such an original compliment that I would forget I had a sister entirely.’

Justine was flirting with Mr Padgett, Annabel saw with relief. Mr Padgett must be the gentleman with whom she had her unspoken agreement, not Mr Denham, and it was clear in the way that he was smiling back at Justine that Mr Padgett reciprocated her feelings. Annabel suppressed the thought that Mr Padgett was smiling rather uncertainly as if he wasn’t sure if he were being teased or flirted with, she was simply glad to know that Mr Denham had not engaged her sister’s affections. She turned back to him.

‘And how would you respond to such a remark?’ he murmured.

Annabel found herself ensnared by his deep blue eyes and she felt heat rising on her face. Had he been paying her an oblique compliment after all? She didn’t know quite what to say and to cover her confusion and hide her blush she pulled her fan out of her reticule and hastily flicked it open. Or at least that is what she intended to do, but the sharp movement jerked it out of her fingers and it fell to the floor at Jack’s feet. Embarrassed, she glanced over at Justine as he bent to retrieve it and was mortified to see her sister nod her head. Justine nodded just once, but it was quite unmistakable – it was with Mr Denham that she had her unspoken understanding after all.

Annabel wished she could sink through the floorboards. To think that she had been very nearly flirting with Mr Denham and all this time he had simply been being kind, conversing in a friendly way with the sister of the girl he loved. The compliment must have been meant for Justine, but put in such a way as to arouse no suspicion whatsoever, and Justine’s own flirtations with Mr Padgett were really nothing more than light chatter. Justine, Annabel thought with humility, was rather more sophisticated than herself, after all she was in her second season, and Annabel’s first had hardly even begun, it shouldn’t be surprising that she could be so casually intimate in her conversation with a gentleman in a way that Annabel had not even dreamed of.

 


You’re very quiet,’ Mr Denham said sometime later as Annabel dutifully nibbled at her custard tart. Annabel had thought he hadn’t noticed her withdrawal from conversation, he had seemed quite as happy exchanging views on the new corn laws with Charles Padgett as he had seemed when chatting with her. And why shouldn’t he, she told herself, Mr Padgett was also one of Justine’s friends, no more or less special to Jack than she was herself. Jack didn’t seem to notice her lack of reply but went on rather diffidently. ‘I was wondering,’ he said, ‘how it is you came to be washed up in the Thames as an infant. The river may connect them, but London is a long way from Bath.’

‘I have no recollection,’ Annabel said, surprised at the question.

‘Nothing at all?’ Jack persisted. ‘It must have been a terrifying experience falling in the water, you were lucky not to have drowned. I would have thought something like that would have made a big impression and would perhaps be your earliest memory.’ Annabel had a sudden fleeting vision of cold grey waters closing over her head with wet garments dragging her down and she looked at Jack in consternation unable to tell if he had simply sparked her imagination or if it were something she truly recalled. Jack seemed to see something of her distress for his expression changed to one of chagrin. ‘I’ve upset you,’ he said at once. ‘I’m terribly sorry, I didn’t mean to. Would you like me to change the subject?’ Mutely Annabel nodded and felt a small smile creep onto her face as Jack cast around for a topic. ‘Fashion. Waistlines, will they go up or down? Hemlines, same question, no I can’t say that. The new bridge, the one they named after Waterloo, do you think it will last? No, no, we don’t want to discuss the river again. Are you fond of music?’

‘Yes,’ said Annabel, ‘yes I am.’ Conversation was restored, but delicious though the custard tart now was, strangely Annabel found she had no appetite.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 6

 

After three days of being shown off by Lady Beresford, Annabel found she was missing her old life. The Blacks did not have nearly so many social engagements as the Beresfords and the whirlwind of visiting or being visited left no time for other pursuits. Annabel had not had time to read or embroider or even really have an extended conversation beyond that first afternoon in the house in St James’ Square. She missed her mother a little and her cousins, even Madeline, rather more than she had expected to. She had not seen Mr Denham or even the affable Charles Padgett or his sister Amelia since the Beresford’s dinner party. Her only real companion was Justine and fascinated as she was by her twin, deep down she had to admit that her company could be rather demanding.

Justine wanted to talk about Mr Denham frequently and Annabel was left in no doubt about her feelings for him. ‘We met at Almack’s,’ Justine confided the next evening as they were dressing for dinner. ‘It was so near the end of the season that Jack couldn’t possibly have offered for me without causing a terrible scandal, but he and mother share an interest in horses and I was able to introduce them to my parents on Epsom race day. They hit it off at once, mother was completely charmed by him and father has said his prospects are good.’

‘Why, what does he do?’ Annabel asked, intrigued in spite of her reluctance to discuss Jack with Justine. Hitherto, most of the young men she had met were navy officers like Henry, or sons being groomed to run their family estates, but Jack didn’t strike her as a military man and he had certainly never mentioned farming, in fact, she realised, he had talked about himself very little.

A small frown wrinkled Justine’s nose as she tried to answer the question and Annabel wondered if she looked like that when trying to recollect a fact. ‘I’m not quite sure,’ she said at last. ‘Something for the government, I think. Jack doesn’t talk about himself much, that’s one of the delightful things about him.’

‘Oh,’ said Annabel, rather surprised at Justine’s lack of curiosity about the man she intended to marry. Mr Denham had taken quite an interest in her own circumstances; she decided to reciprocate and she resolved that next time they met she would discover for herself exactly what it was that he did.

Annabel also found that she was also missing riding, it was not one of Justine’s pastimes and the closest she had come to it was a leisurely open carriage ride through Regent’s park the previous afternoon But on the evening of her final night with the Beresfords they were to attend a ball at Almack’s Assembly Rooms, and she found that nothing could dim her excitement as the time approached. As the daughter of a respectable but not dashing colonel, Almack’s was somewhere she had never expected to go, but the Beresfords have entry as a right of birth, and for the first time Annabel could see some advantage in being the daughter of Lord and Lady Beresford.

Before the ball they were to have dinner with Lord Beresford’s brother and his family and Annabel and Justine got ready together as had become their custom. Annabel had feared that Lady Beresford would insist on a hasty trip to the dressmaker so that she and Justine could be garbed identically, and although the thought of wearing a dress as daringly cut as those her sister sported secretly appealed to her, she did not want to make a spectacle of their appearance. However either Lady Beresford had forgotten the idea, or, more likely, Annabel thought, she simply hadn’t found the time to put her plan into action, and Annabel was free to choose a ball dress from her own wardrobe.

BOOK: Picture Perfect
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