Page 107 of A Picture Is Worth A Thousand Heirs

The warmth she experienced moments before increased and traveled from her stomach up her neck to her cheeks. “He wanted to relay his thanks for corroborating my story about the note.”

Nash straightened, making him appear even more intimidating. “He can thank me by giving me the sketches he drew of my wife, which should be no problem since he’s finally rid himself of that schoolboy infatuation and found a real love of his own.”

During the ball the previous evening, Juliana had heard whispers about Nash. The rumors painted a dark picture of a man not to be trusted. Yet, the little she’d come to know of him discounted that notion entirely. Nash had proven to be a trusted confidant and friend.

Although, at the time, her head had spun from Victor’s kisses, something in his last words inched to the surfaceand settled uneasily in her chest. “Nash, Victor said he had something important to attend to. He didn’t say what, but there was a cold look in his eyes that was so unlike him. You don’t think he’ll do anything rash, do you?”

“You’re speaking about the report inThe Muckraker?”

“Yes. It’s clear that Lydia took some part in things as she was the witness in the orangery, not to mention the information about Mr. Grey.”

Nash pondered it for a moment. “Other than some reprimanding words, I doubt it. Pratt isn’t the type of man to harm a woman. And it may be something completely unrelated. Perhaps he intends to purchase a special wedding gift for you.” The smile on Nash’s lips didn’t quite reach his eyes, and Juliana wondered if the last suggestion was more to placate her than provide a reason for Victor’s errand.

CHAPTER 30

Rather than calm him, the drive to the Whytes’ had only increased Victor’s ire toward Lydia. The horse neighed in protest as he pulled the curricle to a stop in front of the townhouse and threw the reins to a groom.

He may have pounded on the front door a little too forcefully, for when the Whytes’ butler answered, the censorious expression on the man’s face held all the disapproval of a disappointed father. “May I help you, sir?”

“It’s imperative I speak with Miss Whyte.” Victor stuck out his calling card, although, since Victor had been a frequent caller at the residence, the butler hardly needed it.

The butler pulled it from Victor’s outstretched hand with asnap. “I shall enquire if the young lady is at home. Wait here, please.” He motioned toward the entrance, then closed the door behind them.

Victor tapped the side of his leg in impatience, knowing full well that any butler worth his salt would know precisely who was home and who was not. Of course, it could mean that Lydia might refuse to see him.

He used the time wisely and took deep breaths to calm himself. It would do no good to question Lydia if he frightenedher. No, he would play the game her way—with sweetness and flattery.

Ready to give up, Victor jerked to attention at the returning butler. “Follow me, sir.”

After giving the butler his hat and gloves, Victor followed him to a side parlor, where Lydia perched on a settee, her mother on a chair next to her daughter. He gave the smallest bow possible while still remaining polite. “Ladies. Thank you for seeing me.”

Lady Whyte scowled in greeting as she rose. “Mr. Pratt. Given the reports ofThe Muckraker, I should not allow any conversation between you and my daughter. However, Lydia insisted she speak with you.” She motioned to the vacant spot on the settee next to Lydia, and Victor reluctantly sat.

“That’s precisely what I wished to speak about, Lady Whyte. The reports regarding the purported events in the Duke of Burwood’s orangery are greatly exaggerated. Nothing untoward happened between me and the lady in question.”

“Are you calling my daughter a liar, sir?”

Ah, so she’s aware it was Lydia who was thewitness. “Not at all, madam. I’m well aware Miss Whyte witnessed me in the orangery. However, what I’m saying is she merely misinterpreted what happened.”

Using the smile that Cilla christened hislady killer, Victor turned toward Lydia. “Miss Whyte. I understand what a shock it must have been to see me alone with a woman last night, but I assure you what you witnessed was completely innocent. Lady Nash Talbot and I are good friends, nothing more, and she wished me joy in my upcoming marriage to Miss Merrick.”

Lydia darted a glance toward her mother. “And do your wedding plans remain as they were?”

Oh, so that was Lydia’s game. She no doubt held hope that Juliana had broken things off, and by all accounts, it had appeared that way, even to Victor. Adopting his most solemnexpression, he decided to play into Lydia’s hands. “I’m afraid not.” Not a complete untruth. The wedding date had indeed changed, but he would allow Lydia to interpret his answer as she willed.

And exactly as he expected, Lydia took the bait. “Oh, I’m so sorry to hear this, Mr. Pratt.” She pressed a hand to her heart in mock sympathy, but no one could mistake the gleam of glee in her eyes. “You must be heartbroken.”

“Indeed. It is quite difficult. But that’s why I’ve come here, Miss Whyte. If you could help me with identifying who is responsible for the reports, I would be eternally grateful. Do you remember whom you might have told? Besides your dear mother, that is.”

Once again, Lydia’s gaze swept to Lady Whyte.

“I’m asking you, Lydia, not your mother.”

Lady Whyte glowered. “Sir, you have not been given permission to address my daughter by her Christian name.”

“I beg your pardon, but as you can certainly understand, the report inThe Muckrakeris most damaging on many accounts. Even if I cannot persuade Miss Merrick to marry me in two days, perhaps I can convince the author of the false report to write a retraction and salvage my own reputation. Then I will try to heal my broken heart, perhaps with someone else.” He exhaled a heavy sigh, shaking his head pitifully and only partially ashamed of his prevarication.

He could almost feel the atmosphere in the room shift to his favor.

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