Page 45 of A Picture Is Worth A Thousand Heirs

To her surprise and joy, Victor took her hand in his, bent low, and kissed it.

When Victor had touched her face with his bare fingers several days ago, waves of pleasure had rippled through her body. But that innocent contact to adjust her pose couldn’t compare to the deliberate brush of Victor’s lips against her skin.

What would happen if he kissed her lips? She’d no doubt swoon and fall against him in a puddle.

And as Victor took his gloves and hat from Frampton and left, Juliana hoped she would soon find out.

Their courtship might be a pretense to Victor, and he no doubt expected her to cry off if they couldn’t disprove the horrible rumors, but that didn’t mean Juliana wouldn’t enjoy every moment of Victor’s attention.

Even if her heart eventually paid the price.

CHAPTER 14

Feminine outrage erupted in the drawing room of Drake’s London mansion. Seated next to her mother, Juliana wanted to make herself as small as possible until she simply vanished. Not that the ladies of The League weren’t supportive. They were furious on her behalf, but Juliana had never been comfortable with so much attention directed at her.

“They’ve gone too far this time,” Miranda said, handing the scandal sheet to Anne, who had arrived later—per usual. Miranda pointed to the paragraphs in question.

The roar settled down to a hum as Anne scanned the contents. Honestly, Juliana was surprised Anne hadn’t already read it. She was typically the first to obtain a copy of the spurious paper.

Anne’s gaze darted toward Juliana. “Did you really pose nude?”

Miranda rolled her eyes. “Of course she didn’t, you ninny.”

Anne squared her shoulders. “Just because Charlotte isn’t here doesn’t mean you have to speak for her in absentia.”

Juliana pressed her lips together, fighting the laugh even under the horrible circumstances. No offense to Anne, but thefact that she even knew the word absentia was humorous. Leave it to Anne to add a bit of frivolity to the direst of situations.

Bea pushed her spectacles up her nose and turned toward Juliana. “The question, as I see it, is why has the culprit recently focused their attacks on you? We need to start charting possibilities. For example, we should list people we may have offended who might have a vendetta against us, but who also were privy to the information twisted in this abomination posing as a newspaper.” Bea pointed at the copy ofThe Muckrakerand shuddered.

“That’s an excellent idea, Bea.” Honoria rose. “I’ll get some paper and a pencil.”

Bea gestured for Honoria to sit back down. “No need. My memory is excellent, and I will put something together for the next meeting. I’m also curious why the culprit would mention something so specific as posing unclothed.”

Juliana, her mother, and Honoria all exchanged a glance. After Victor’s cryptic remark about additional sketches when he left earlier, Juliana discovered Victor had mentioned them to Drake as well but had failed to provide the subject’s name.

“They should have all the information.” Mother squeezed Juliana’s hand and nodded toward the other ladies.

“Mr. Pratt said there are some sketches of another woman who could be mistaken for me. However, he told Drake he is unsure anyone saw them.”

“That must be it,” Anne said.

“Did Mr. Pratt say who?” Bea removedThe Muckrakerfrom Anne’s grasp, scanning it. “We could confront her to confirm.”

Honoria squirmed in her seat, her gaze glued to her folded hands in her lap.

“Honoria?” Miranda’s tone reminded Juliana of Mother’s censure when Juliana had come in from an especially vigorousride covered with mud. Miranda really did seem to be filling in for Charlotte.

“I can’t imagine it would be her,” Honoria said. “She would never pose in such a manner.”

“Who? We can’t know unless we ask her,” Bea said. “Why Laurence has a portrait of me in his?—”

“Don’t remind me.” Miranda gave a little shudder. “However, my brother is your husband, Bea. It’s different. Whomever Victor sketched is not his wife.”

Juliana wasn’t so naïve as to believe Victor hadn’t had encounters with other women, but the idea still stung. She prayed the sketches were simply an artistic endeavor.

Miranda returned her attention to Honoria and softened her tone. “But it would help if we knew.”

Honoria gave a little nod, giving in to the pressure from her friends. “Adalyn Lovelace, or I should say Talbot, resembles Juliana a little. More in their coloring than anything.”

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