Page 2 of A Picture Is Worth A Thousand Heirs

Honoria and Drake exchanged a glance, and Juliana’s stomach knotted.

“Other than having Frampton turn people away at the door, it’s too late to cancel,” Drake said. “But I shall remain by your side the entire night. No one will so much as dare to say anything, or I shall wither them with my ducal glare.”

Honoria held a gloved hand to her mouth, stifling a little laugh.

Juliana voiced what Honoria no doubt was thinking. “You don’t have a ducal glare, brother.”

“It’s true, Drake,” their mother said. “You’re about as frightening as a lamb.”

“Aunt Kitty, then?” Drake asked.

Tears still in her eyes, Juliana laughed along with everyone else at the image of Drake’s Aunt Kitty threatening people with her cane. The woman was formidable.

Later that evening, Juliana prepared herself, hoping the ball would go more smoothly than her presentation at court. People did arrive, but rather than delivering smiles andcongratulations, many of the guests either offered comforting words or said nothing at all.

However, there was a small contingent of guests who—although they said nothing to her face—stole glances at her from across the ballroom and snickered behind their fans or hands, whispering in the ears of those who would listen.

One in particular, Miss Lydia Whyte, set Juliana’s nerves on edge. She’d met the woman at Drake’s house party the previous summer. Since Miss Whyte was approximately the same age, Juliana hoped they might become friends once Drake revealed himself and assumed his position as duke. But the moment Simon had introduced them, Lydia’s cold assessment as she raked her gaze up and down Juliana’s body indicated otherwise. She’d even heard the woman make a snide remark about her to that odious man, Lord Middlebury.

Granted, those less-than-generous attendees were not among Drake and Honoria’s closest friends. Although unable to attend the ball due to the recent birth of their baby daughter, the Duke and Duchess of Ashton sent their well wishes, welcoming Juliana into society and predicting she would be the diamond of the Season.

Ha!Unlikely. Juliana’s humiliating presentation was the least of it. Not only was Juliana a commoner, but she did not possess the qualities attributed to such beauties. More well-endowed in the bosom than most young ladies her age, her one advantage was her mother was an excellent seamstress and could work magic with the fit of Juliana’s gowns.

Lady Montgomery assured Juliana that her own come-out had been much more disastrous, and yet she secured a love match with the man of her heart. The truth of Bea’s statement shone in her eyes when she gazed at her husband, Lord Montgomery, the same love reflected in his.

Yet, as the evening continued, and the dancing began, her only partners, other than Simon, had been the married men and friends of her brother. Even Drake wanted to dance with her, a faux pas Honoria was almost willing to allow but convinced Drake they shouldn’t provide any more fodder for the gossip sheets. Honoria’s apologetic glance was hardly necessary, as Juliana quite agreed.

No amount of glittering crystal or lovely strands of music from the string orchestra could make up for the feeling of being unwanted.

Would the evening ever end?

Heaviness settled in Juliana’s stomach as she watched the other couples on the dance floor. Her gaze landed on Mr. Victor Pratt dancing with Lydia. Lydia laughed at something Mr. Pratt said, then tapped him on the arm with her fan during a pass in the dance.

Mr. Pratt had been friendly during Drake’s house party but not overly so. Respectful would be the word Juliana would use. At the time, Juliana had indulged in some girlish fantasies about him. She couldn’t imagine him with someone like Lydia. But of course, she really didn’t know him.

He was handsome, for certain. That long blond hair tied back in a queue, giving him an air of rebelliousness, intrigued Juliana. Honoria had described it as dashing, and Juliana agreed. But as one of the few unmarried men in attendance that evening, like the others, he kept his distance.

The dance ended, and he rejoined his sister, Priscilla, and her husband, Dr. Marbry. When he inclined his head to listen to something Priscilla was saying, his gaze lifted and locked with Juliana’s. Giving a brief nod, he said something in return, and then he strode forward, stopping Juliana’s heart.

Victor wonderedif his dance with Lydia Whyte would ever end. The woman was relentless, and he knew if he didn’t dance with her, she would pound him to death on the arm with that damnable fan of hers. In truth, he didn’t even want to be at the ball. He’d been perfectly content wallowing in his dark thoughts until his sister, Priscilla, had appeared at their parents’ home that afternoon.

“Youhaveto go, Victor. Poor Juliana will need some friendly faces and at least a few eligible gentlemen to request a dance.”

Victor’s skin prickled at the wordpoor. “Whypoor? I have a feeling it’s more than the fact her parents are commoners.”

Their mother sniffed. “Which is more than enough reason not to go, I would say.”

Victor shot his mother a glower, but it didn’t stop her from prattling on.

“But I heard from Lucretia, who heard it from Lady Easton’s maid, who heard it from?—”

“Stop!” Victor held up a hand. “You should know better than to listen to a chain of gossip, Mother, especially gossip handed down through servants.”

“Gossip, true or not, is hurtful,” Priscilla said. “And it’s all the more reason to show our support.”

Mother sniffed again. “All the more reason to stay home, Victor. I would advise you to do the same, Priscilla.”

“No,” his sister said adamantly. “Timothy and I will be happy to attend. Honoria is my friend, and Juliana is her sister-in-law. And for goodness’ sakes, Mother, Juliana’s brother is a duke! You should be more careful whom you disparage.”

---