Page 40 of A Picture Is Worth A Thousand Heirs

Victor’s stomach clenched at the wordearnest. But to admit to his mother that his and Juliana’s courtship was a farce would work against them. His mother could no more keep a secret as rain would cease falling in London. “I am courting her, yes.”

Returning to the sofa, his mother pulled out her handkerchief and dabbed her eyes. “Why must you do this, Victor? First that Lovelace woman, and now the daughter of a steward and a seamstress! Do you do this to spite me? To drive me to an early grave?”

Yes, perhaps he’d inherited her penchant for dramatics, but Victor pushed the thought aside. “Keep Miss Lovelace out of this.” Mention of her only awakened the twinge in his chest.

Not heeding his warning, his mother continued to rail. “Both commoners! Why must you pursue women who are beneath you when there are genteel ladies available like Miss Whyte who are equal to your station? What attracts you to women of low birth?”

“Low birth?” He couldn’t believe the words coming from his mother’s mouth. Or maybe he could. “What attracts me are their independent spirits. Their desire to be more than a pretty bauble on a man’s arm. I admire their hopes and dreams and—yes, Mother—their ambitions. Theirdifferencefrom the likes of Miss Whyte is precisely what attracts me.”

Was it foolish to want someone who would challenge him, who reminded him he could feel something again?

His mother gaped at him, speechless. A rare sight indeed.

Fueled by the horrible gossip rag and his mother’s insistence on bringing up Adalyn, Victor continued his tirade. “Andyouare the last person to cast aspersions on anyone.Youwho forced your own daughter to compromise a good man. Not because he was a good man, but because he was atitledman. Tell me, Mother, would you still have had Cilla compromise Ashton simply because he was a duke if he had been a man who would beat her?”

His mother bolted from the sofa, her face no longer ashen but crimson. “How dare you?! I will speak with your father about this.”

The storm she arrived in blew her out, much to Victor’s relief, and he allowed his body to drop to the sofa she had vacated.

Regardless of the innocence of Juliana’s portrait, Victor was well acquainted with the havoc gossip could wreak.

God help me if I’ve ruined her.

He might very well have to offer for Miss Merrick. The possibility landed with athudin his chest. Not because he didn’t want to. But because he no longer had a choice.

Juliana fought backthe tears at Drake’s crestfallen face.

Her brother tugged fistfuls of his hair. Spread before him on the table in the morning room,The Muckrakertaunted them all. “I should have chaperoned the two of you myself. I should have demanded to see the portrait as he worked. I should have?—”

“This is not your fault.” Beside him, Honoria pulled Drake’s hand from his tortured hair and laced her fingers through his, then sent Juliana a commiserating look. “It’s no one’s fault except the monster behind that horrible paper.”

Mother remained unnervingly silent.

“Mr. Pratt has been a perfect gentleman, Drake. He’s done nothing wrong.” Juliana choked out the words, needing to believe the truth in them.

“Except paint you unclothed.”

“He didn’t. It’s a lie,” Juliana said more firmly.

Drake’s gaze shot to hers. “Have you seen it?”

Her stomach tightened. Why had Victor refused to let her peek? She brushed the doubt aside. “Well... no. But, Drake, this commission is important to Victor. Why would he risk losing it?”

Drake opened his mouth, then snapped it shut. “I don’t know.”

Mother wrapped her arm around Juliana’s shoulders. “If you trust him, then so should we. However, what is true and what people believe can be two very different things.”

“Mother Merrick is right,” Honoria said. “We must put our heads together and decide on the best strategy to save your reputation. I will call an emergency meeting of the League. And since Charlotte isn’t here, I will invite Beatrix Townsend.”

Frampton appeared at the entry of the room and gave a little cough. “Pardon me, Your Graces, Mrs. Merrick, Miss Merrick. Mr. Pratt is here. Shall I tell him you’re not receiving?”

Unlike Lord Felix, Victor had impeccable manners and the consideration to take his cues from Juliana and her wishes.

Drake’s gaze locked with hers. “We should see what he has to say about this.” Drake snatched the gossip sheet, flinging it further down the table.

Juliana nodded. “He has a right to defend himself.”

“Send him in, Frampton.”

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