Page 54 of A Picture Is Worth A Thousand Heirs

“No. But it was clear Victor’s mind was preoccupied.”

“Hmph. He doesn’t know what a treasure he has in you, child. But he will if I have anything to say about it. I’ll call my carriage to take you home.”

At home, Juliana had barely entered the drawing room when her mother asked, “Where is Victor? Did you encounter trouble?”

Before Juliana could recount how Victor’s mother and Miss Whyte had upset Victor, Honoria breezed into the drawing room.

“Who would have thought writing invitations would be so exhausting?” Contrary to her words, Honoria appeared energized. Her green eyes sparkled, and she practically vibrated.

Happy to see her sister-in-law so excited, Juliana tilted her head in encouragement. “For the ball?”

“Yes. But Drake and I discussed it before he left for Lords and decided it will be an engagement ball for you and Victor.”

“But what about little Kitty?” Juliana asked, not eager to be the center of attention at another ball.

“Kitty will hardly care. She will be sound asleep in her cradle.”

Juliana stifled a chuckle when Honoria muttered, “I hope.”

Mother nodded her approval. “I think it’s a splendid idea, Honoria. We shall show thetonthat the Merricks and the Pendrakes do not cower in the face of gossip.”

Juliana only hoped it wouldn’t be as disastrous as her come-out ball.

On his wayback to return his father’s phaeton, Victor’s lips tingled from Juliana’s kiss. The jolt racing through his body the first time their lips touched had surprised him, urging him to capture her mouth again and again.

A pleasant surprise indeed, and one that promised his betrothal—pretend or not—to Juliana Merrick would be no hardship. In fact, he anticipated their next encounter with great eagerness. Images coalesced in his mind of pausing briefly as he painted her portrait, perhaps again in the orangery. With her mother preoccupied, he would take Juliana’s hand, and they would sneak between the lush foliage of the trees where he would steal more of those delicious kisses.

No. Not steal. Freely given. One thing Juliana continued to be was straightforward, and his first impression of her held steady. He liked her honesty, her love for her family, her compassion for others. She didn’t participate in idle gossip, especially against other women.

How many times had Victor listened to Lydia ramble on about another woman’s poor fashion taste, or someone’s freckles from being exposed to the sun, or a disadvantageous match someone had made because of some scandal? Too many, and Lydia’s latest tirades had been directed toward Juliana in particular.

But had Juliana ever launched a counterattack, even though she could have found a myriad of things to say about Lydia? In fact, had she ever said an unkind word about anyone? No.

In short, Juliana Merrick was a breath of fresh air.

Trite? Perhaps, but true nonetheless, and Victor found being with his betrothed easy.

At least until that kiss had complicated things.

He would tread carefully as he sorted out his feelings and what exactly Miss Juliana Merrick meant to him.

Thoughtsof a quiet day hidden away in the duke’s orangery and painting Juliana’s portrait—and perhaps enjoying more kisses—were dispelled the moment Victor walked through the door at the duke’s mansion the next day.

Raucous male laughter arose from deeper inside the home, and Victor glanced at Frampton in question.

“Mr. Beckham and Lady Charlotte have returned, sir. They are with the family in the drawing room.”

Victor followed Frampton, noting feminine laughter mingled with the more boisterous male voices. He drank in the scene before him.

Mr. Beckham stood in the center of the room, apparently relaying an amusing story. Juliana wiped at her eyes, but not in sorrow. Radiant, she beamed with joy. The duchess had a handover her mouth, but the crinkle of her eyes gave her away. The duke slapped at his knee.

Even Lady Charlotte appeared amused. And although her mouth was pressed in a thin line, the corner twitched slightly. But more surprising was the look of affection shining in her eyes as she gazed at her husband. From the reports inThe Muckraker,their marriage had been due to a compromising situation, but like the false claims against him and Juliana, Victor surmised the accusations against Mr. Beckham and Lady Charlotte had also been exaggerated if not blatantly false.

Victor harbored no ill feelings toward Lady Charlotte. After all, she couldn’t be blamed for who her brother was, just like Victor wasn’t accountable for his mother’s sins. However, her cold demeanor was common knowledge, especially among men of Victor’s acquaintance. But from Mr. Beckham’s besotted expression as he gazed at his wife, perhaps those accounts, too, had been hyperbolic.

Or . . . the unexpected match had more than favorable consequences.

Interesting.

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