Page 110 of A Picture Is Worth A Thousand Heirs

“Fancy-like, you mean? Nah.”

Not a gentleman, then. Pencil poised above his sketchpad, Victor asked, “What was the shape of his face? Round, square, oblong?”

“Wha’s oblong?”

Victor drew the shape on his paper. “Like this?”

Mouth full of bread, the boy pointed a dirty finger at the paper. “Yeah, tha’s it.”

“What about his eyes?”

“Kind of rheumy and squinty.”

“Good. Good.”

Victor continued to sketch, and with more prompting, had what the boy said was a good likeness of the man.

“Did the man who gave you the letter write it?”

“How’s I to know? He just give it to me and told me where to bring it.”

The excitement bubbling in Victor’s veins fizzled out like flat champagne. Of course, the perpetrator wouldn’t be careless enough to reveal himself to the messenger. No doubt he’d paid someone to give it to the boy. At least the sketch was a starting point.

“What’s your name, boy?”

“Lucas. But people call me Luke.”

“Do you have parents?”

Luke snorted. “O’course, I got parents. Don’t be daft. How’d you think I got here? Stork?” The boy snorted again.

What cheek! “I mean, are they alive?”

“Mum is. Who knows where my da is. Mum says he’s a no-good son-of-a?—”

Victor held up his hand. “Stop. There’s a lady present.”

It was Cook’s turn to snort a laugh.

Victor pulled some coins from his pocket and held out two crowns. Luke’s eyes widened, and he reached a grimy hand toward the fortune.

Victor pulled it back. “You mother doesn’t drink, does she?”

Eyes still glued to the coins, Luke shook his head.

“Tell her this is for food and some new clothes for you.” Victor released the coins to Luke’s greedy grasp, then turned toward his cook. “Prepare a bundle of some more food for Luke before you send him on his way.”

“Thank you, sir.” Luke’s blue eyes clouded with tears, and he hastily brushed them away.

“If you find out any more information about who gave you the letter, come see me.”

Luke gave a vigorous nod before turning his attention toward Cook.

Not to be discouraged, perhaps Victor would discover the identity of the culprit before the night was out.

CHAPTER 31

Juliana’s mind whirled from the note the street urchin delivered. She’d be foolish to go alone, but she couldn’t in good conscience ignore it. She needed an accomplice for what she had planned, and she supposed Nash was the most well-equipped for the position, if only she could get him alone.

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