Page 49 of A Picture Is Worth A Thousand Heirs

“What is it? Something else is troubling you.”

She swallowed, the movement in the long column of her throat slow but visible. “Will you tell me about Miss Lovelace? Is she the woman in the sketches?”

Blast.

CHAPTER 15

With everything in her, Juliana wished to rein in her runaway words. To pull them back into her mouth as if they’d never been spoken. Mistake. She had made a horrible mistake. Worse than a mistake, she had trod on sensitive ground and opened a wound by asking Victor about Adalyn.

Victor’s horrified expression said it all. Blinking, he pulled back, removing his hand from hers and taking with it all his soothing warmth. “How do you know about Adalyn?” The pain in his voice slashed at her heart even more.

“Please, don’t be angry. You mentioned the sketches of a woman similar in appearance, and Honoria thought it might be Miss Lovelace.”

He jerked his gaze away, his hands fisting on his thighs. “I’m not angry.”

“You are. But please, don’t be angry with Honoria. Be angry with me for asking. I had no right to pry.”

He laughed, the sound humorless, dry, and brittle. “If you don’t have a right to ask, who does?” He exhaled an audible breath, then turned back to her. “I apologize. You took me off guard.”

Although facing her, he stared at a spot above her head, as if meeting her gaze directly would make what he had to say even more difficult. “Yes. The sketches are of Miss Lovelace, but they aren’t as lurid as that detestable rag purports. And to be clear, she did not pose for them. I drew them from memory—and imagination.”

His words did not surprise her, for Juliana had memorized every contour, every line of Victor’s face, the sparkle in his eyes, the arch of his brows, the curve of his lips when he smiled, the image forming so clearly that, when alone, she only had to close her eyes to summon it.

“Honoria mentioned Miss Lovelace resembles me. Or I resemble her.” Flustered, she hurried to amend her statement. “What I mean to say is, we resemble each other.”

His gaze snapped to hers, searching, questioning.

Could he see the insecurity lurking there? With her heart pounding a furious rhythm, she licked her lips and waited.

He nodded. “There is some resemblance; that is true. You both have blond hair, although hers is lighter, more of a silver blond, while yours is golden. Your blue eyes are more cornflower, while hers are cerulean.” His brow furrowed, and Juliana realized she had memorized that as well. “Which whoever might have seen the sketches wouldn’t have deduced from them, as they are in pencil.”

He shrugged, the gesture smooth like flowing liquid. “But there are other differences. The tip of your nose turns up, just a little. Your face is a little fuller—here.” Featherlight, like an angel’s kiss, he brushed the back of his fingers against her cheeks, and a shiver of pleasure shimmied up her spine. “Innocence and lightness shine in your eyes.” He grinned at her. “Especially when you’re laughing.”

Juliana cherished each word, pulling them close to her heart and holding them in an embrace.

“But a cursory glance, for example, one made in haste, might lead a person to conclude the sketches were of you, especially if my suspicion proves true.”

“Then you believe someonehasseen them?”

“It is a distinct possibility, and something I’m going to investigate. However, I have something very important to do.”

“More important than discovering the person behindThe Muckraker?”she asked, keeping her tone light and teasing.

“At the moment, yes.” Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a small box and opened the lid. “This was my grandmother’s. I would be honored if you would wear it as a sign of our betrothal.”

Held before her, the box contained the most delightful and whimsical ring Juliana had ever seen. Little blue petals adorned the band with tiny pearls in the center of each flower. Sheknewthose flowers. “Forget-me-nots!” Her gaze shot to Victor’s.

His lips tipped up, his eyes crinkling at the edges. “Are they?” He plucked the ring from its satiny bed and examined it. “Why they are. Excellent eye, Miss Merrick. Now, if I may have your finger.”

Fingers trembling with nervous excitement, she held out her left hand, and Victor slid the ring home. It fit perfectly.

“Do you like it? I can get you something else if?—”

Without thinking, Juliana flung herself into Victor’s arms, and he let out a small “Oomph.”

“I love it, Victor.” Tears blurred her vision when she looked up at his surprised expression. What had she done?

Before she could apologize for her utter lack of restraint, his expression softened, and he smiled warmly. “I’m glad.”

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