Picture Perfect (5 page)

She could tell by the gleam that lit up in her aunt’s eye that she too could envisage how devastating the combination would be and she wondered for a moment if Aunt Delilah would attempt to dissuade her from buying it, as she was sure to outshine her two cousins the first night she dressed in this, but her aunt was more generous than she gave her credit for. ‘This will be most becoming on you,’ she said with satisfaction, ‘The gold will bring out the colour of your eyes, and the red is very striking, perhaps too striking for a debutante at the beginning of her first season, but by the time this is made up you will no longer be a complete newcomer to society.’

‘Now we must engage dressmakers,’ Madeline said imperiously when they had finished with the fabric shops. ‘Then tomorrow we must come back and chose trimmings.’

‘Next week is quite soon enough, my dear,’ Aunt Delilah said mildly. ‘You are forgetting that Augusta and Annabel are new to all this, we don’t want to wear them out before they’ve even begun and the Lockton House ball is tomorrow evening. Now, we must press on with the dressmakers. Peterson is to collect us at four on the corner of Bond and Regent Streets.’

Annabel found the discussions with the dressmakers quite as enthralling as the visits to the fabric shops although Madeline took twice as long as Augusta and herself as she insisted on finalising every last detail of her costume. They eventually emerged onto the pavement shortly before four and Annabel was feeling very pleased with all she had accomplished that afternoon when Madeline suddenly said ‘The train, the rose silk train, I must speak to Madam Dupont!’ and dashed back inside the shop. With an impatient cluck, and a quick glance at the younger two girls which seemed to convey the order to wait where they were, Aunt Delilah turned and followed Madeline, leaving Annabel and Augusta alone in the cooling sun while other shoppers strolled past them.

‘Madeline enjoys all this so much, I wonder if she will ever marry,’ Augusta said gloomily.

‘I’m sure Aunt Delilah would not put up with that!’ Annabel said feelingly.

‘Mama loves the season quite as much as Madeline does,’ Augusta said. ‘It occupies her conversation all year round.’

At that moment a lady of middling years, but still fashionably dressed, approached them. ‘Augusta, how lovely to see you,’ she said.

‘Good afternoon, Mrs Price,’ Augusta said, dropping a small curtsey. ‘May I introduce my cousin Miss Annabel Black? Annabel, this is Mrs Price. She is a close friend of my mother’s.’

‘It’s very nice to meet you, Mrs Price,’ Annabel said automatically. Mrs Price smiled at her vaguely, but seemed more interested in chatting to Augusta, whom she seemed to feel would know the very latest news on all their mutual acquaintances. Annabel was idly watching the passers-by

when one in particular caught her eye. It was Mr Denham, he saw her at the same time, and to her surprise he crossed the street to speak to her.

‘Don’t tell me,’ he said, without preamble. ‘You were off for an improving afternoon at the British Museum when your driver took a wrong turn and you found yourself obliged to order a new dress instead.’

His comment was so unexpected that despite his outrageously familiar teasing Annabel laughed. ‘However you, yourself were there, making a quick count of the Elgin marbles to ensure that none of them had been spirited away in the night,’ she rejoined and was surprised to see the laughter fade from his face.

‘You’ve heard about the Titian, then,’ he said in a far more serious tone.

‘Only a little,’ Annabel said. ‘Was it actually stolen whilst we were admiring Lord Seaforth’s latest acquisitions?’

‘It’s possible,’ Mr Denham said. ‘What seems more likely is that the thief used the opportunity presented by the viewing to unlatch a window or door through which he could return later that night.’

Annabel gasped. ‘But that implies that the thief is one of the
ton
. Surely no gentleman would stoop to such a thing?’

Mr Denham gave her a slightly puzzled look. ‘What a very innocent question. You are quite right. No gentleman would commit theft, but being one of society’s elite does not necessarily guarantee that a man is a gentleman.’

‘Is Mr Leahey much distressed at his association with the theft?’ Annabel asked. ‘He must of course be relieved that his own paintings were untouched.’ Then she found herself having to repress a smirk as the thought once again occurred to her that no thief in his right mind would want to steal Dermot Leahey’s work.

‘Naturally, Leahey is most distressed,’ Mr Denham said and Annabel thought he looked at her a little oddly. ‘However, the notoriety of the theft has leant not unwelcome publicity to his exhibition and he has managed to contain his feelings.’

‘I see,’ said Annabel as gravely as she could. At that moment Aunt Delilah and Madeline bustled out of the dressmaker’s shop.

Mr Denham glanced at Madeline and said hastily. ‘I must be going, I have an appointment at the Royal Exchange. No doubt I will see you at Lockton House tomorrow night?’

Annabel felt her spirits soar. ‘I shall be there,’ she said, and waited for him to say he hoped she would reserve a dance for him, but he did not and she felt herself deflate a little.

‘Until then,’ Mr Denham tipped his hat at her briefly and crossed swiftly back to the other side of the street. She watched for a few seconds until he disappeared from sight among the bustling crowd, supposing that really they had only conversed for a few minutes, but for the moment all other memories of the afternoon seemed to have fled.

Justine really did seem different this year, Jack mused. Perhaps she had grown up over the winter. Instead of the disdainful, though amusing remarks he would have expected her to make about Dermot Leahey all he got were coy looks whenever his name came up. Come to think about it, Leahey’s name seemed to come up all too readily. Surely Justine wasn’t developing a
tendre
for the artist? He was sure he had seen a smile hovering on her lips when she spoke of him. Impatiently he brushed the irritating thought aside. Justine was far too worldly to settle for a dilettante like Leahey, he need have no concerns there.

Mrs Price went on her way and Annabel and her cousins made their way back to Bond Street. On the way there they passed a milliners which Madeline declared she must dive into and Annabel, her interest in apparel waning, resigned herself to a long wait, but Aunt Delilah, presumably used to Madeline’s ways after three prior seasons, ensured that their carriage was not kept waiting at the appointed place above fifteen minutes and soon they were on their way to Annabel’s home in Bedford square where they were to take tea.

‘Did you have a successful afternoon?’ Mrs Black enquired, long since returned from her committee meeting.

‘Oh yes,’ Annabel said. ‘I found the most beautiful material for a ball dress, and my cousins found plenty they liked, why Madeline bought mountains of fabric!’

‘Oh, not mountains, my dear,’ Aunt Delilah said at once. ‘But with her colouring, so many shades suit her and it is hard to choose.’ It was true, Annabel thought. Both her cousins had fair hair and blue eyes and were of a more delicate build than herself and they looked pretty in anything, but thinking of the red silk and the gold lace, Annabel knew that on one evening at least, with her own warm brown hair and eyes, and in that dress, she would eclipse them.

‘I am glad that Madeline found plenty that will be to her advantage,’ Mrs Black said mildly, ‘after all she is in her fourth season. Now I am sure you are all parched. I shall ring for some tea.’

‘How was your afternoon, Aunt Judith?’ Augusta said innocently into the slight silence that followed.

‘Most productive,’ Mrs Black smiled warmly at her younger niece. ‘I have written a letter to my friend Mrs Grigson, whom I have discovered is the cousin of the Bishop of Southwark and I am optimistic that she will be able to use her influence with him to improve conditions for the orphans in that diocese.’

‘Very commendable,’ Aunt Delilah said, and then inexplicably she and Annabel’s mother laughed.

‘Chalk and cheese,’ Mrs Black said, but she spoke more warmly to her sister-in-law than she had since Madeline had revealed the secret of Annabel’s adoption.

‘
I hope your dancing is up to scratch,’ Madeline said as they sipped their tea. ‘I know Augusta’s is, because I have accompanied her to her dancing lessons, but what about you, Annabel? You wouldn’t want to trip over your own feet at your very first ball.’

‘I have been practising with Henry,’ Annabel said, smiling with a confidence she didn’t entirely feel, ‘but better still, I have some copies of the latest waltz music, so I shall be familiar with the tunes. Come and hear.’ She took Madeline’s hand and led her to the pianoforte at the far end of the drawing room.

‘Delilah, shall we adjourn to my morning room?’ Mrs Black asked hastily. ‘I am not sure that I care for the rhythm of the waltz, I find myself continually waiting for the fourth beat in each bar.’

Annabel seated herself at the piano and began. She knew her playing was a little uneven, but she hoped she made up for it with enthusiasm; her father always seemed to think so at any rate. ‘That’s a lovely piece,’ Madeline said, as she drew it to a close, the left hand lagging momentarily after the right, and Annabel was amused to see her cousin avoid criticising where criticism was so obviously due. ‘May I try it?’

Annabel willingly surrendered the piano stool and on the opening chords she gave a courtly bow to Augusta. ‘Will you dance, my lady?’

‘
I would be delighted,’ Augusta replied, with admirable haughtiness and they whirled each other around the room in a waltz, Annabel doing her best to lead, but quite unaccustomed to reversing the steps, and Augusta laughing as she tried to follow. Already breathless, Annabel was sure Madeline increased her tempo, but she hung onto Augusta gamely and then Madeline increased her speed once more and they both swung apart to land, speechless with laughter at opposite ends of the window seat.

What would it feel like, Annabel wondered, to dance with someone other than her brother, her cousin or her rather portly and paternal dancing master? To swirl around the room in the arms of a man who had asked her to dance, rather than in the arms of one who simply sought to improve her dancing? Wholly unexpectedly Mr Denham’s face arose in her mind’s eye, and she felt a little shiver of anticipation at the thought of dancing with him, although she was not sure why she would want to dance with someone who had treated her so oddly. Would he really be at Lockton House tomorrow night? He had said that he would. But did Mr Denham actually deign to attend the more frivolous events society had to offer, or was he only concerned with more elevated outings to art galleries and perhaps to musical soirees? Holding a musical evening of their own suddenly seemed like rather an attractive idea.

A light knock on her door woke Annabel from her nap late the following afternoon and her mother’s maid, Laura, entered her room bearing a tray of tea and hot buttered toast. ‘Good evening, Miss Annabel,’ Laura said, setting the tray down on the dressing table and bobbing a small curtsey almost at the same time. Annabel couldn’t help but admire the lady’s maid’s dexterity. Laura, she was sure, would have no difficulty in wielding both dance card and fan while elegantly engaging in the most boisterous of country dances. For a brief moment she wondered if employment as lady’s maid might have been the highest position she could have aspired to if the Blacks hadn’t adopted her, but the thought was too disquieting and she hastily pushed it away.

‘
Thank you, Laura,’ she said instead, rising from the bed and wrapping her mauve shawl around her shoulders. ‘Don’t pour the tea, I don’t want a thing at the moment.’

‘
You’ll have to excuse me, Miss Annabel,’ Laura said firmly, ‘but Mrs Black insisted that you should have something light before the ball. In fact she said that if you declined I should report to her immediately.’ Apparently and correctly assuming that Annabel wouldn’t gainsay her mother, Laura took the cover off a lightly boiled egg which Annabel hadn’t noticed before and smartly

sliced the top off it. No, Annabel thought, Laura’s true place wasn’t in the ballroom. With such orderly precision to her actions she belonged in the military.

Soon the egg and toast and tea were all consumed and Annabel inwardly conceded that her mother was right; supper wouldn’t be served until very late so it was only common sense to face the long evening ahead with something inside her, and now she felt more than ready for her first foray into society.

‘
Will you be wearing your yellow silk dress?’ Laura enquired. After much consideration that morning, Annabel had finally decided which dress she should wear to her inaugural ball and had correspondingly despatched Mary to the market to buy jonquils for her hair, but suddenly she wondered, would vivid yellow silk, trimmed with bronze ribbons around the high waist and at the cuffs of the short, puffed sleeves be too bold for her first appearance? Then she thought of Madeline. Madeline, she knew, for her elder cousin had outlined in great detail on the carriage ride home yesterday what she would be wearing the following evening, would be dressed in a dark pink under dress, topped by an overdress of crimson gauze. She would present a vivid picture and Annabel would be presented right alongside her. This was no time to be discreet. She wanted to be noticed at her very first ball, not dismissed as one of many shy, new debutantes. Her yellow dress was bright enough to compete with Madeline’s pink and crimson, and the bronze ribbons would define it nicely, yet it was in a simpler style than Madeline’s attire and as such would accentuate the differences in their ages in her favour.