Page 16 of A Picture Is Worth A Thousand Heirs

The thought flew from his head as Miss Merrick descended the long, curved staircase to greet him. Her riding habit of a fine royal blue velvet clung to her curves, and Victor remembered it had been made to allow her to ride astride.

Sure enough, as she took a step, the fabric of the skirt parted, allowing a bit of light to peek through. Although voluminous, the skirt had been divided into two parts, much like extremely loose trousers. How clever! She wore a little matching bonnet on her head, tilted at a jaunty angle, reminding Victor of the one the duchess had worn during the fox hunt.

But unlike the duchess, Miss Merrick’s golden hair was pulled back and tied with a blue velvet ribbon, the long locks trailing down her back.

She greeted him with a warm smile. “Drake and Honoria will be down in a moment. They’re fussing over Kitty and giving instructions to the nurse.” She rolled her eyes. “I’ve never seen people so besotted with a baby before. You’d think they had produced the first one ever.”

Victor laughed. “I suspect you will feel the same when you have your own children someday, Miss Merrick.” He waved a hand at her riding habit. “So this is the famous garment that allows you to ride astride.”

“It is.” She grasped the outer edges of the skirt and pulled, exposing the split Victor had glimpsed as she descended the staircase.

“Very innovative. And I like your hair fashioned that way.”

Pink colored her cheeks, giving her a natural, healthy glow. “You inspired me.”

Voices drew their attention back to the staircase as Burwood and the duchess approached.

“I’m so glad you were able to join us, Mr. Pratt. Even numbers make for the best rides,” the duchess said.

Although Victor would not deign to argue with a duchess, he doubted the number of riders determined the quality of the ride.

Exiting, they mounted their horses and trotted to the park. Burwood and the duchess led the way, with Victor riding next to Miss Merrick. He slid a glance over to her, admiring the expert way she held the reins and controlled the horse. “Your brother was right.”

Burwood chuckled. “I’m always right. The question is, about what this time?”

“Miss Merrick has an excellent seat.”

Color darkened her cheeks again, and her gaze dipped to her hands loosely holding the reins. “Thank you, Mr. Pratt.”

“Would it be presumptuous to have you call me Victor? When we’re not in a crowd of people, that is. Mr. Pratt sounds so very stuffy.”

Her face brightened. “If you will call me Juliana.”

Juliana.It had a musical ring to it that Victor loved.

Inside the park, equipages of various types rolled up and down Rotten Row along with riders on horseback. Luckily, the semi-clouded sky had kept the crowd to a manageable size. Victor tipped his hat, bidding a good afternoon to those he knew.

An enormous barouche carrying the Marquess of Edgerton, his wife, and two sons slowed as they approached. The odiousLord Middlebury lounged next to the boys in the rear-facing seat across from the marquess.

“The poor lads,” Victor muttered. The boys not only endured a disagreeable parent, but Timothy had gone on ad nauseam about how obsequious Lord Middlebury was. Apparently, his sister, Lady Montgomery, had narrowly escaped being married to the man. As they grew closer, the boys’ sour faces confirmed their displeasure.

Edgerton’s gaze snagged on Juliana as they rode past on Edgerton’s right. Minding his manners, Victor tipped his hat, but Edgerton turned away with studied precision, facing forward and effectively giving them the cut direct. He must have said something to Middlebury, because the man turned and gaped at them.

Damn. They must have noticed Juliana’s unorthodox riding habit.

Fortunately, Juliana must not have noticed their rudeness, or if she did, perhaps she didn’t understand the cut, still being unversed in theton’sridiculous insults.

“Who were those people with Lord Middlebury, Victor?” Juliana asked.

Ah.Perhaps he’d been a little too quick with his assumptions. “Lord and Lady Edgerton, and their sons.”

Her eyes widened. “Thatwas Lady Charlotte’s brother?” She shook her head. “That explains a great deal.”

“So, you know Middlebury?”

Her button nose scrunched up as if they had passed a pile of horse droppings. Yet the pathway around them was mercifully clear. “From Drake’s house party. He cornered me in the hallway and tried to pinch me.” Her face reddened.

Leather bit into his gloves as Victor’s grip tightened on the reins, and he twisted in his saddle, turning his entire torsotoward her. “Did you tell your brother?” he asked, each word clipped and careful, the rage simmering just beneath the surface.

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