Page 82 of A Picture Is Worth A Thousand Heirs

“If memory serves,The Muckrakersimply said the woman was in a state of undress, nothing about her bosom being exposed. Admit it, Lydia, you rummaged around on my desk and saw those sketches.”

Lydia’s face reddened, and Victor pressed forward, although he doubted his next accusation. “Andyouare the perpetrator of that horrible gossip rag.”

From the corner of his eye, he saw Adalyn’s focus shift to Lydia.

“No. No.” Lydia shook her head so furiously, strands of her well-crafted coiffure broke loose. “I mean, yes, I saw the drawings.” She stepped forward, reaching for Victor, but he pulled back. “I only wanted to admire them. You’re so talented, Victor.”

“Stop the flattery, Lydia. Admit your guilt fully, and we shall be done with this.”

“I’m not responsible for what’s in that scandal sheet. I may have mentioned seeing the drawings to someone, but?—”

“Who?” This time Victor moved forward, his hands still clenched at his sides. He needed to control himself when every part of him wanted to grab Lydia and shake the truth from her.

“M-my mother. I was upset about them. I thought if Mother could talk to your mother and dissuade you from sullying yourself with a commoner?—”

Adalyn asked the question forming in Victor’s mind. “You planned to blackmail Mr. Pratt?”

“You make it sound sordid.”

“Blackmail is sordid, Lydia,” Victor said.

“We only thought to use it as leverage to get you to realize how associating with those beneath you could damage your own reputation. How was I supposed to knowThe Muckrakerwould report it before we could speak with you directly? Then you went and offered for Miss Merrick!”

Adalyn faced him, hurt in her eyes like a knife slicing through him. He would have to make amends with her later. “Do you believe her? That she’s not responsible for spreading such rumors in print?”

Drawing a hand down his face, he exhaled a heavy sigh. “I do. Only because Lydia isn’t bright enough to write the rag.”

“I beg your pardon!” Lydia squared her shoulders, clearly affronted.

Victor ignored her. “However, that doesn’t mean she’s not involved in some other way. And I intend to find out how.”

A soft, feminine voice called from the entrance to the orangery. “Victor?”

In all the commotion, Victor had forgotten that Juliana was supposed to meet him.

“We’re over here, Miss Merrick.” Lydia’s smirk sent a chill skirting up Victor’s spine.

Her cheeks rosy as if from exertion, Juliana came to an abrupt halt, and her gaze darted between Victor, Adalyn, and Lydia, landing back on Adalyn with athud.

“You are a little too late, Miss Merrick,” Lydia crowed. “But if I were you, I would give serious thought to your upcoming nuptials. It would appear your betrothed isn’t quite sure who is his fiancée.” She sauntered off, flicking a devious look over her shoulder as she passed Juliana.

Adalyn approached Juliana. “Miss Merrick, are you unwell? You appear flushed.”

Juliana’s gaze remained fixed on him. “I’m quite well, thank you. However, I would like to speak with Victor in private if I may?”

“Of course.” With a final look of apology, Adalyn slipped from the orangery.

Silence engulfed them. Finally alone with Juliana, Victor shifted uncomfortably under her scrutiny, and his neckcloth suddenly became overly tight. Their rendezvous was not at all what he’d planned.

So many questions raced through his mind. Would Lydia refrain from revealing to others what she thought she’d witnessed? Would he lose any further commission from Burwood? Could he salvage things with Juliana?

Most questions would have to wait, for Juliana addressed the most important one.

Pain, sharp and visceral from her gaze stabbed at his heart, her eyes bright but unblinking. “Is it true?”

Unsurewhat she expected when she burst into the orangery, Juliana had hoped for the best, to find Victor alone and waiting for her. But the guilty look on his face as he stood next to Adalyn coupled with Lydia’s self-satisfied smirk appeared to confirm Lord Felix’s accusations. Nausea fought its way up her throat, and she forced it down.

Rather than exhibiting confusion at her question or asking for clarification, Victor seemed to understand exactly what she meant.

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