Free Picture Perfect by Lilac Lacey Page B

Then she chuckled to herself, with closed or downcast eyes, no one would see her error and surely if she merely followed Justine’s lead she could not go wrong at mealtimes. And she couldn’t deny she was excited, she was being taken into the very heart of the family she should have grown up with. Staying in the Beresford’s house she would get to know Lady Beresford in a way in which she couldn’t possibly hope to simply as a casual visitor, and as for Justine, Annabel was fascinated by their likeness, she was sure that if they were dressed in identical clothing no one would be able to tell them apart. Did they hold the same opinions as well, or even think the same thoughts? Over the next few days she would find out.
    The carriage drew up outside the smart, modern house she had visited for the first time only yesterday and Bill, the Blacks’ groom, opened the door for her. The house was square and symmetrical with the front door in the middle flanked and topped by rows of oblong windows through which she could make out the edges of pale coloured curtains. The white stone gleamed in the early spring sunlight and the house looked very inviting. Leaving her luggage to Bill, Annabel tripped lightly up the steps and knocked on the door. Almost immediately it was answered by a footman whom Annabel did not remember seeing previously, but she supposed that the Beresfords had many more servants than the Blacks. The footman seemed to know whom she was however. He bowed at once. ‘May I take your things and may I show you to the parlour, Miss Beresford?’
    ‘Miss B-’ Annabel choked back the words and managed a croaking assent. She handed the footman her pelisse and gloves and followed him to the parlour her mind in somewhat of a turmoil over the way in which she had been addressed. Somehow, until now, the fact that Hannah Beresford was her given name had not seemed important, but of course that would be how Lord and Lady Beresford would think of her. The footman knocked smartly on the parlour door. ‘Miss Beresford has arrived, ma’am,’ he said.
    ‘Thank you, Stone. Ask the kitchen to send up coffee and cakes now.’ Lady Beresford said imperiously. There was one difference between the Beresfords’ house and the Blacks, Annabel thought abstractedly. She wondered if she could bring herself to address the servants by their surnames, it seemed so unfriendly compared with using their Christian names as they did in her home in Bedford Square.
    Lady Beresford rose and her whole demeanour changed. She smiled, held out her hands to Annabel and embraced her. ‘Please come and sit by me my dear, I want to know everything about you. Justine will join us shortly, but I wanted to have you all to myself for a little while first. Tell me, what is your earliest memory?’
    Annabel had always thought that Henry, goading her into climbing an apple tree which she had promptly fallen out of, and then her tears turning to laughter when she saw her brother’s horrified expression was her earliest memory, but as she looked at Lady Beresford’s face she once more felt a sense of familiarity. ‘I… I think I remember you,’ she said hesitantly and was rewarded by the look of joy on Lady Beresford’s face. Encouraged, she went on to tell her about the apple tree.
    ‘Ah, what it is to have brothers and sisters,’ Lady Beresford said. ‘I myself come from a large family, but Justine, ever since we lost you, has been an only child.’
    As if on cue the door opened and Justine tripped into the room, a maid on her heels, bearing a tray. ‘Hannah,’ she said, kissing Annabel’s cheek. ‘I can’t tell you how excited I am to have you here.’
    ‘About my name,’ Annabel began uneasily, but Lady Beresford interrupted.
    ‘Yes, when you were very small you couldn’t pronounce the aitch, when asked, you always called yourself Anna. That must be how the mistake arose.’
    ‘We are so much alike,’ Justine exclaimed. ‘See how your hands