Page 25 of A Picture Is Worth A Thousand Heirs

“I’m not comfortable talking about myself.”

Definitely not like Lydia. “Don’t think of it as talking about yourself, but about the things you find interesting, joyful, or even distasteful if you wish.”

She nodded and sucked in her bottom lip.

Victor’s heart gave a decidedthumpat her innocent action.Keep it professional, man.

“Early mornings, when the sun comes up over the rolling hills at Drake’s estate in Dorset. The light is so perfect, the vibrant colors holding a promise of something wonderful. It’s the best time for riding. The scent of dew fresh on the grass and birds waking up and singing.”

Victor’s pencil stilled over the paper, his mind enraptured. “Beautiful.”

“Oh, it is,” she said.

But Victor wasn’t speaking of her description, although it was quite poetic. It was the expression on her face, the wistfulness in her eyes that was simply—lovely. Did she even realize her allure? As his pencil scratched across the rough surface of the paper, he did his best to capture the moment.

Lifting his gaze from the paper, he asked, “Do you have a favorite horse?”

Different from the dreamy look she had before, her face lit with excitement. “I do. Sunshine. The mare I rode the other day.”

Victor nodded, sketching another image of her next to the first. He would either decide later which to use in her formal portrait or ask Drake’s preference. Although both captured Juliana’s spirit, Victor fancied the dreamy-eyed Juliana a bit more.

“Tell me more about Sunshine. Describe how it feels to ride her.”

As he’d hoped, the dreamy expression crossed Juliana’s face again. “Freeing. Especially if I’m riding where she can run. Hyde Park was lovely, but other than stopping a runaway pony, there isn’t much opportunity to allow Sunshine free rein.” Her attention drifted to a spot over Victor’s shoulder.

“Lord Felix Davies here for Miss Merrick,” Frampton, the butler, announced.

What is he doing here? Victor exchanged a glance with Juliana.

Juliana’s brow furrowed.

Surprised? Annoyed? Both?

“Tell Lord Felix I’m not at home.”

“Now, Miss Merrick, is that any way to treat your admirers?”

Victor turned at Davies’s slimy voice.

The cad gave an exaggerated bow. “Mrs. Merrick.”

“I instructed you to wait in the entryway, my lord,” Frampton said, pulling himself up to his full height.

Davies held a hand to his heart. “Love heeds no one, my good man.” He held out an enormous bouquet. “For you, dear lady.”

Victor wanted to cast up his accounts.

Frampton snatched the flowers from Davies’s grip. “Allow me to put these inwater, Miss Merrick.”

From Frampton’s tone, Victor surmised water equated to the rubbish pile.

“Pratt,” Davies said, the intonation much like that of Frampton’swater. His gaze drifted to the sketches in Victor’s hands, and his eyes narrowed.

“Davies,” Victor volleyed back with as much vitriol as he could muster, each of them sizing up the other.

Juliana’s soft voice broke the staring competition. “My apologies. As you can see, sir, I am occupied and, unfortunately, have no time for unexpected callers.”

Well done, Juliana.Victor fought his smirk at the perfectly delivered setdown.

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