Page 19 of A Picture Is Worth A Thousand Heirs

Camilla nodded and wiped the tears from her cheeks. “Whatever you wish, Juliana, say the word, and if it is in our power to grant it, it shall be yours.”

“Your friendship is more than enough. I’ve always wanted a little sister, so perhaps Eva—and Tori—could be my sisters in spirit, much like Honoria is my sister by marriage.”

“Hey, what about me?” Pockets complained.

“Well, I have abigbrother.” She peeked at Drake. “But it would be nice to have a brother who didn’t tease me mercilessly.”

Drake laughed.

“I want a riding habit like Juliana’s,” Tori said.

Victor, who had been silent during the exchange, smiled. “That’s an excellent idea, Miss Victoria. I dare say it was Juliana’s ability to ride astride that helped her move as quickly as she did and stop Miss Eva’s horse before a calamity occurred.”

Oliver and Camilla examined Juliana’s riding habit as if only first noticing she was riding astride.

“It does seem more sensible,” Oliver said.

“Goodness, such a gallant rescue.”

Juliana peered over Drake’s head at a somewhat familiar voice. Lord Felix trotted up to them.

Where had he come from?

“I could hardly believe my eyes when you raced past me like a hound on the hunt, Miss Merrick.” Lord Felix yawned, the action adding to his bored tone. “Here I was enjoying a chat with Lord Highbottom and?—”

“Shouldn’t you be with Miss Whyte?” Victor veritably growled the question.

Lord Felix waved it off. “If you’re referring to when you saw me with Miss Whyte earlier, I was merely sharing some pleasant gossip for a moment.”

“Pleasantgossip?” Juliana asked. “Gossip is never pleasant, sir.”

“Oh, it’s all in good fun. However, dear madam, since you find gossip distasteful, let us hope you haven’t provided fodder for those who spread it.” His gaze homed in on her position on Sunshine.

Drake moved his horse between her and Lord Felix. “Careful, Davies.”

Fat rain droplets dotted the ground and dampened Juliana’s clothing. Drake turned his back on Lord Felix. “Come, Juliana, the day has turned foul, but let us hope the rain will wash away the stench.”

With Drake in the lead, their little group departed. And although Juliana had no regrets about stopping the runaway pony, she worried she had, once again, drawn unnecessary attention to herself and, by extension, brought embarrassment on her brother.

She turned toward Victor, who appeared deep in thought. “Have I made a muck of it again?”

His head jerked back, a furrow creasing his brow. “What? No. No. You were magnificent, and anyone who fails to recognize it is a nodcock.”

Warmth spread through Juliana’s chest and settled low in her belly at Victor’s words. As they rode in silence, she wanted some small way to repay his kindness, and she remembered their conversation about his passion for painting.

Two daysafter the eventful day on Rotten Row, Victor sat in the drawing room of his parents’ home, scouring the scandal sheets for any derogatory reports regarding what had transpired. First, he scannedThe Town Tattler, snorting with laughter at a particularon dit.

Has Lord FD discovered a way to mend his “broken heart” by courting Miss LW? This reporter wants to know!

Victor had no great love for any gossip rag, but although identities were easy enough to decipher, at leastThe Tattlerdidn’t use full names. UnlikeThe Muckraker.

Turning to the aforementioned abomination next, Victor’s gaze snagged on the mention of Juliana, his body straightening in his chair.

Reports have reached our ears that several members of thetonwitnessed Miss Juliana Merrick, the Duke of Burwood’s sister, in Hyde Park riding astride! Of course, allowances should be made as the “duke” himself was not raised among society and perhaps doesn’t understand the proper comportment for gently bred ladies. Or Miss Merrick’s common birth could account for such egregious disrespect for good manners.

Anger flared in Victor’s chest that, of all the positive traits Miss Merrick possessed, the repugnant rag singled out her common birth. Not a woman whose bravery had saved a child from certain injury—or worse. Not a woman who children flocked to or was an accomplished horsewoman. No. Her common birth. He crumpled the parchment in his fist the same moment his mother breezed in.

“Victor!” Her gaze swung toward the destroyed gossip rag. “What is that?” She snatched it from his grasp. “Look what you’ve done! I haven’t read this latest edition yet.”

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