Page 74 of A Picture Is Worth A Thousand Heirs

Wrapped in his dark thoughts, Victor startled at the masculine voice of Lord Nash. Victor’s stomach churned. “Here to gloat?”

Nash’s brows furrowed into a deep V. “About what?” Understanding crossed the churl’s face. “Ah. About Adalyn. I doubt the duke would take kindly to your obsession with a married woman when you’re betrothed to his sister.”

The man was obnoxious. “I’m not obsessed. I’m simply concerned about her. She deserves better than the likes of you.”

Nash gave a sharp laugh. “If you expect me to disagree with you, you’ll be sorely disappointed. Make no mistake, Pratt, I know how very lucky I am. However, it’s curious about the likeness of your intended to my wife. If you’re trying to substitute Miss Merrick for Adalyn, I would caution you.”

“I am doing no such thing. Miss Merrick is her own person.” Even as the words left him, guilt gnawed at him. Hadn’t he himself made comparisons? Not to mention his egregious slip when he kissed Juliana and said Adalyn’s name.

Nash quirked a dark eyebrow. “Glad you recognize that. I like her. I’d hate to see her get hurt.” He sipped a glass of ratafia and made a face. “Damnable sweet drinks at these things.”

Although he actually agreed with the man, Victor grunted. “If you don’t enjoy it, why did you take a glass?”

Nash’s answering insouciant shrug further annoyed him. “Because I wanted to speak with you and pretending to enjoy refreshment provides a good cover.”

“Well then, if you’re finished lecturing me about how to treat my fiancée, consider your mission accomplished.”

Nash barked a harsh laugh. “The whelp has a bite! But, alas, no.” Making certain no one else lurked around them, Nash pulled Victor to the side and lowered his voice to a whisper. “Although my concern for Miss Merrick’s happiness is genuine, I wanted to pass on a bit of information about an entirely different mission—the one to bring down the scum responsible for that gossip rag.”

Victor straightened. “You’ve been back in the country for what? A day? What could you possibly know?”

Nash sipped the ratafia, his face twisting once again in displeasure. “This stuff really is abominable. No information. I volunteered to lay a trap for Davies. Theworm, as my sister calls him, accosted her. If he’s responsible for that rag, I want to take part in his downfall.”

Hot anger bubbled in Victor’s veins. “I wanted to be the one to deal with Davies.”

“With what information? What do you have to dangle in front of him that wouldn’t harm someone you cared about?”

“I would think of something.” Even as the words formed, Victor acknowledged the absurdity of his statement. To be effective, each trap should be meticulously planned with precisely the right information for each suspect. He fully expected Nash to laugh in his face.

The man’s patient expression surprised him. “I understand your desire to best Davies. Burwood and Mr. Beckham recounted his behavior toward Miss Merrick, as well as my sister. I planned to corner Ashton—with Davies nearby tooverhear, of course—and relay some investment advice for his clinic. Why don’t you join us?”

“You’re going to dupe the duke?”

Nash laughed again. “At one time, my answer would have been a hearty, ‘Yes,’ but no longer. Harry will be aware of the nature of the information. He wants to see the culprit brought down as much as the rest of us. However, if you wish to take a more primary role, someone needs to slip about Mr. Grey’s relationship to Burwood to Miss Whyte. From what I hear, you might have a personal reason to see her brought to task as much as Davies.”

Nash had him there. Victor still believed Lydia had seen the sketches of Adalyn. Of course, he wasn’t about to tell Nash that bit of speculation. Nash would probably take him out in the back of Pendrake Manor and shoot him dead. “Yes. I’ll handle Lydia. But I would like to take part in the other as well. I could give you a signal when Davies was nearby and listening in.”

Nash nodded. “Make it unobtrusive and subtle. Perhaps check your pocket watch? I would advise the same tactic on your part. Discuss the information with a trusted source but with Miss Whyte nearby.”

“Aunt Kitty would be perfect.”

“Then it’s settled. I would offer my hand, but that alone would appear suspicious to any prying eyes.” Mercifully, the cad put his drink down on the refreshment table and slithered away.

When the current set ended, Victor scanned the dance floor for Juliana, pleased he found her walking toward him. Halfway across the ballroom, Stanley Ludlow, one of Victor’s old school chums, stopped her.

When Juliana lowered her head to check her dance card, Victor’s heart dropped. Would he never have a moment alone with her? He needed to tell her how he felt. To make sure sheunderstood he wanted nothing more than to proceed with their wedding plans.

But in the meantime, he would make himself useful. With Lydia watching him like a bird of prey, her fan flapping furiously, he gave her a brief smile, then threaded through the crowd to Aunt Kitty.

CHAPTER 21

Juliana cast a longing glance toward Victor as Mr. Ludlow led her back to the dance floor. Her pinching slippers made her long for a seat, but before she could make her excuses, stating she wished to get back to her fiancé, Victor strode across the room toward Aunt Kitty and the other widows seated against the wall.

“Miss Merrick?” Head tilted, Mr. Ludlow peered down at her, his nasally voice sending uncomfortable shivers up her back. He held out his arm. “Shall we?”

As Honoria taught her, Juliana placed a gloved hand on Mr. Ludlow’s arm, hoping he wouldn’t talk too much during the dance.

Still, according to Honoria, she was expected to converse pleasantly with her dance partner. “Mr. Ludlow, have you known Mr. Pratt long?”

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