Page 108 of A Picture Is Worth A Thousand Heirs

“Well, I can’t be certain who might have overheard. I was so upset, you understand.”

Shewas upset? Victor restrained the urge to roll his eyes. “Of course. But if you could, please try.”

“Mr. Pratt,” Lady Whyte said. “While we understand your predicament, I’m afraid this is most distressing to my poorLydia. If you would allow her to gather her thoughts without the pressure of your presence, perhaps something will come to mind.” She rose, informing Victor, in no uncertain terms, the call was at an end.

“Of course. Write to me if you think of anything. And perhaps once this is all behind us, I might be permitted to call upon you again, Miss Whyte. With your permission, of course, Lady Whyte.”

The glint in the woman’s eye answered his question. “We shall see, Mr. Pratt.”

With that, Victor left, hoping beyond hope Lydia’s desire to get her hooks into him would loosen her tongue and reveal the identity of the scoundrel behindThe Muckraker.

Juliana turnedthe last page of her book and sighed, grateful not only Elinor and Marianne had found their true loves, but that she had as well. Just as Elinor would support Edward in his desire to become a simple country pastor, she would support Victor’s passion for art. And if he so desired to eventually pursue a career in politics once he had become Viscount Cartwright, and with Honoria’s guidance, she would do her utmost to learn the ways of society.

Stepping outside her room, she decided to take a stroll in the garden and escape the maudlin atmosphere the black crape and somber expressions of the servants created.

Diffused sunshine greeted her as the sun sank low in the sky, and she relished the warmth on her skin, remembering the heat Victor’s touch elicited. Although the prize roses that lined the winding path were beautiful, Juliana gravitated toward the hydrangeas; their vivid blue color reminded her of Victor’sincredible eyes. She brushed a hand against the lacy flowers and sighed.

“Pardon me, miss.”

Juliana spun around toward the child’s voice, expecting to see Nash and Adalyn’s ward, Mena.

Stretching out a grimy hand, a boy of about eight or ten stood before her. His dirty face broke into a grin, revealing a missing tooth. “You’re Juliana, ain’t ya? The man said to look for a lady with blond hair. Says I was to give this to ya.”

Juliana plucked the folded paper from the boy’s fingers. “How did you get in here?” Heavy wrought-iron fencing closed off the garden from the surrounding homes and mews in the back. Drake, with his constant worry, had ensured the gate leading to the mews remained locked, with the keys only entrusted to loyal servants.

The boy puffed up his thin chest. “’Tweren’t nothin’. I squeezed through the bars. Lucky I was to see ya. Didn’t fancy going up to the door of this big ‘ouse none.” He gave a little shiver.

Sealed with a blob of wax without an imprint, the letter was written in an unfamiliar hand. She broke the seal and read.

Your man is lying to you. Come to the back entrance ofThe Knave of Heartsat quarter past ten tonight to learn the truth. Come alone.

A friend

“You said a man gave this to you? Do you know who he was?”

The boy shook his head. “Never seen ‘im before. Just gave me two shillings to bring it to the Duke of Burwood’s ’ouse and give it to a lady named Juliana.”

“What did he look like?”

“Like everybody else.”

“Juliana?” Drake’s voice drifted into the garden. “Are you out here?”

She turned and stepped around the curve in the garden path, tucking the letter into the folds of her skirt. “Yes. I’m here.”

“Mother wants to see you.”

“I’ll be right there.” When Drake ducked back into the house, Juliana hurried back to where she’d left the boy, only to find him gone.

Doubt snaked through her veins and coiled in her mind. Could she be as foolish as Marianne when she trusted in Willoughby’s love? Although Willoughby said he truly loved Marianne, he traded that love for financial security. With the help of Drake’s connections as duke, would Victor use her to further his artistic ambitions?

She forced the doubt aside. Victor wouldn’t lie to her. Not after what they’d shared the night before. Pulling the letter out from the folds of her gown, she stared at the signature.

A friend

As if a friend would ask her to come alone to a gaming hell at night! She wasn’t a newly foaled filly. However, that didn’t mean she would disregard the letter entirely. There was more to the cryptic message than met the eye. Suspicion niggled at her mind, whispering it had something to do withThe Muckraker.

She needed a plan.

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