Page 37 of A Picture Is Worth A Thousand Heirs

Heat flooded her cheeks at Victor’s incredulous expression, but she barreled forward. “He was teasing me, of course. However, I gave his question serious thought, and, apparently, my answer surprised him. Not only was it a pairing he had considered, but my reasons given impressed him. From then on, he asked my opinion about which stallion to mate with which mare. I became very good at it. Two of the foals went on to become champions. From that moment on, breeding horses became my dream.”

“Well, that’s fabulous.” He grinned at her. “And a most unusual pursuit for a woman.”

She tore her gaze away. “It doesn’t matter now. At one time before Drake became duke, I thought perhaps I would marry a gentleman farmer who would also share my passion for horses and together.. .well.”

Victor scooted closer to her and took her hand in his. “Juliana. Don’t give up on your dream. It’s still possible. There are many aristocratic gentlemen who put great store in fine horseflesh.”

“Ones who would welcome a wife with such aspirations?” She shook her head. “From what I’ve seen and learned about theton, he would be a most unusual man indeed.” She forced a smile in hopes of conveying appreciation for his efforts to give her hope, no matter how false.

They finished their refreshment, conversing on less serious subjects as Tobias cleared the area of the remaining food, plates, and blanket.

Once she resumed her pose—with considerably less touching from Victor—their remaining time flew by. As Victor worked diligently, Juliana occupied herself, imagining herself on Victor’s arm at upcoming events. Honoria had mentioned a ball toward the end of the Season to celebrate Kitty’s birth. Juliana hoped Victor would still be pretending to court her and perhaps they would share a waltz. Although she struggled at the piano, she had taken to dancing as if she were born to it. The dancing master, who had also worked with Drake, said she had a natural athletic ability, perhaps due to her expertise on horseback.

Shadows lengthened, and Victor paused and peered upward. “We should finish for the day and return. I think I have enough of Sunshine to continue working indoors tomorrow.” He swirled one of his brushes in an odd smelling liquid, then wiped it with a cloth. “If that’s agreeable with you.”

As much as Juliana loved having moments alone with Victor—except for Tobias, of course—spending any time with him, even with her mother present, was better than spending no time with him. “Of course.” She gave Sunshine a pat on her neck. “There will be some carrots and maybe an apple for you when we get back.”

“She earned them.” Victor pulled another canvas from his satchel.

“What is that for? I thought we were finished?”

With a smile that said her question was not as silly as she’d first imagined, Victor held it out, showing her the protrusions on the back edges of the blank canvas. “To protect the wet canvas. Small pieces of wood create a gap and keep the paint from touching the surface. I place the painted canvas surface againstthe back of the blank canvas. Then I tie it in place with cloth strips.”

Oh.He was so brilliant!

Once Victor finished packing up his supplies and the canvas—which he wouldn’t allow her to see—he strode forward, giving a nod toward Sunshine. “Do you need a boost up?”

Although she’d used a mounting block when they’d left, she’d planned to simply place her foot in the stirrup and pull herself up into the saddle. But the prospect of Victor’s hands around her waist banished any desire to prove her independence.

She nodded. “That would be helpful.”

They stood face-to-face. Victor reached for her, but frowned and pulled back, scratching his chin. “Um. How should I...? Perhaps if you turn around?”

“Oh. Of course. I’m such a ninny.” Turning, she faced Sunshine, preparing herself for the onslaught of sensations when Victor touched her. Yet, try as she might, her knees buckled a little when Victor’s hands found her waist. She sucked in a breath long enough to keep her wits about her and slide her foot into the stirrup and swing into position.

Victor’s lips twitched in a tiny smile as he handed her the reins. She jerked her gaze away lest he see the turmoil brewing inside her, but his fingers lingered against hers, and neither pulled away.

They rode back in relative silence, only speaking to greet people they passed. There was no awkwardness between them, reminding Juliana of the quiet communication Drake and Honoria shared with each other.

Was it enough if only one person loved? It was a question Juliana was reluctant to ponder—for she may not like the answer.

CHAPTER 12

The next day, Juliana posed inside Drake’s orangery using the branch of an orange tree in place of Sunshine’s neck and muzzle. “It feels strange petting leaves.”

Victor’s delicious chuckle, deep and raspy, scraped against her skin, raising gooseflesh.

“I know, but it’s only for positioning. I doubt your brother would appreciate horse droppings in his home should we bring Sunshine inside. Perhaps in a few days we can venture out again.” Victor placed his brush down and glanced toward the glass panels in the ceiling. “As it is, we may not be able to continue much longer even now. A storm is brewing, and we’re losing the little light we have.”

Victor stepped back, his hands on his hips, and assessed the painting. He’d removed his coat and rolled up his shirtsleeves to keep them paint-free, exposing his—very nice—forearms. He had the long, elegant fingers of an artist. Fitting, of course, but all Juliana could think about was how those fingers had touched her face and wrapped around her waist.

Her knees wobbled a bit at the memory. Thank heavens her skirts hid her reaction. Although their courtship was pretend for Victor, her feelings were very, very real.

“Won’t you let me take a peek?” she asked, doing her best to keep her tone light. In truth, she was dying to know how Victor saw her.

He waggled a finger at her. “No. And don’t think you can use those pretty smiles to sweet talk me into it.”

Pretty smiles? Her heart stuttered.

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