Moriarty's Musician

The Game is On, Part 7

Annabelle clutched the pillow as she turned over in the bed. Slowly, she opened her eyes and then jolted upright, looking around the room. Memories of the previous night came streaming back as she realized who's bed she was in. She looked down at the pillow beside her and swallowed, remembering the arms she had snuggled in for the majority of the night. But where was he now? Maybe he had already left for London.

Getting quickly out of the bed, Annabelle opened the door and glanced out into the hall, sure Moriarty was going to appear at any second. Seeing the hall empty, she ran to her room and shut the door behind her. As she tried to still her heart, she looked around her bedroom with mortification, seeing the bedcovers neatly made and the lamplight off. Putting her hand to her head, she knew she had been found out. She could only imagine what Meg would be thinking of her.

Embarrassment coiled around her as she went to the bathroom, took a hot shower and got dressed, wondering the entire time what she would say to Moriarty when she saw him. Annabelle gazed into the bathroom mirror and brought her hands to her cheeks as she thought about the tumultuous night before and it's unexpected end. How could she ever act the same way around him?

Shaking her head at the flush of her face, Annabelle tried to think. She couldn't let Moriarty know she had the best sleep in a very long time, knowing he was beside her. She could imagine him gloating at the knowledge. No, she would keep that to herself.

As she made her way down the stairs, she could smell the heavenly aroma of baked bread. Meg came out of the kitchen, carrying a basket brimming with laundry and spotted her. "Oh, Annabelle, dear, how did you sleep?"

Annabelle peeked at Meg, heat staining her cheeks. "I... ah... fine," she stammered, not wanting to meet Meg's eyes.

Meg smiled knowingly. "I'm so happy to hear it. Now go into the kitchen and help yourself to some breakfast. I'll be back after I put this load in the machine."

Annabelle nodded and headed to the kitchen while Meg watched her go, a smile shaping her mouth.

Annabelle entered the doorway of the kitchen and immediately wished she hadn't. Moriarty sat at the table with Jack, both their heads bent over a large notebook. She turned to leave.

"Where do you think you're going?"

Annabelle sighed and turned around to meet Moriarty's eyes. His crisp, white dress shirt was casually unbuttoned at the top; his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He set his pencil down and leaned back in his chair, smiling at her. Annabelle's heart raced as she frowned back at his handsome face.

"Somehow, I knew the bread would beckon to you. It's fascinating how you respond so well to inanimate objects."

Annabelle huffed at the roguish grin on his face. Ignoring him, she went to the cupboard and pulled out a mug and a small plate. Slicing a piece of the loaf that sat on the cutting board, she placed it on her dish and smoothed some of the butter over the steaming bread. Heading over to the coffee pot, she filled her mug with the hot liquid, trying to delay the pour as she worked to compose herself. She could feel Moriarty's eyes on her back. He was such a beast mocking her like this in front of Jack.

Jack looked curiously from Moriarty to Annabelle, wondering why his teacher's attention was fixated on their guest. Jack watched his face when Annabelle turned and sat down at the table. He had never seen that look before. Since his teacher had started their lesson this morning, he seemed so calm and relaxed. He was always firm and precise with his lessons, but today, he was patient and almost... happy. Jack scratched his head and looked down at his notebook, doodling at the top of the page as he waited for his teacher's direction. He had a feeling this lesson was over.