Page 87 of A Picture Is Worth A Thousand Heirs

Ladies made their way from the retiring room to rejoin the festivities, but if she confided in Honoria, she would lose the lastbit of control she clung to with desperate fingers. She pressed a hand to her stomach, as if that would somehow calm the nausea churning within. “It’s nothing. Just the excitement of the evening.”

A troubled furrow creased Honoria’s brow, and she threw Juliana a dubious glance. “Very well.”

Juliana rose and allowed Honoria to wrap an arm around her waist as they returned to the ballroom.

Across the room, Victor peered over from where he stood by Drake. As always, the mere sight of him sent her heart hammering in her chest, and she had to calibrate to his presence.

Drake peeled off and approached Honoria. Left alone, Victor froze her with his gaze, his eyes locked with hers so fiercely, she fought to pull in a breath.

“Miss Merrick?”

Juliana turned toward the masculine voice. “Mr. Grey.” She returned a curtsy to his bow.

“I believe the next dance is ours.” Out of place for such an imposing man, his gentle voice calmed her.

“Thank you again for your intervention with Lord Felix.”

“If he threatened you in any way, your brother should know. As it was, I had a few strong words with him, but it’s best to keep your distance if possible.”

As he led her to the dancefloor, she forced a wan smile and placed a hand on his arm. “Of that you need not worry. I intend to avoid Lord Felix at all costs.”

“That’s wise. Otherwise, you might end up with more than bruises on your arm.”

Her gaze darted to her upper arm where Lord Felix had dug his fingers into her flesh, finding faint purple marks forming.

“You seemed in a great hurry, although I cannot blame you. I trust all is well.”

Kindness radiated in his eyes as she craned her neck to meet his gaze. He meant well, but how could she respond when at that moment nothing waswell? “Forgive me for my rudeness in rushing off without properly thanking you earlier.”

“Think nothing of it. And forgive me if I’ve overstepped.”

During the country dance, she did her best to make polite small talk. “Have you enjoyed the evening, sir?”

A smile teased his lips. “As much as a man like me can. Your brother is most gracious, as is Her Grace. He did well in choosing her for his wife.”

“Do you know of their story, sir?”

He shook his head. “Only what I’ve read in the scandal sheets, and I don’t put much store in those rags.”

“Drake has loved Honoria for ages. Ever since he was groom for Lord Stratford when they were not much more than children. It’s rare to find such a love.”

“Indeed.” He canted his head, studying her. “It’s fortunate for them things worked out as they did, and he inherited the title. Not all are so lucky.”

Affronted, Juliana pulled back. “If you’re insinuating that Honoria only married him because he inherited, you are mistaken, sir.”

“Forgive me. I’ve overstepped yet again. I simply meant that his title makes their marriage more acceptable to society.”

She couldn’t argue his point. Wasn’t her betrothal to Victor—pretend though it was—proof of that? At least where his mother and others were concerned? Not all well-wishes she’d received that evening were heartfelt and genuine. Regardless of her brother’s lofty title and position within the aristocracy, she was a commoner, and many considered her beneath Victor.

As heir to a viscountcy, Victor would be expected to take his rightful place among theton. Would her common birth, her lackof noble blood, cause him difficulty? Would he grow to resent her?

From what she had learned about Victor, he had no great political ambition. But would that change after he inherited and was faced with the responsibilities of his title? As a young man, was it easy to defy society without understanding the stakes involved?

If he truly loved her, Juliana had little doubt their marriagecouldwork. Together, they would face any difficulties that arose. But without love...no matter how much she loved him, if he didn’t return her love, pressure from society might be one obstacle too many.

One more argument as to why she couldn’t, in good conscience, marry Victor.

The music came to an abrupt halt, and dancers stopped mid-step on the dance floor. Everyone turned toward the orchestra on the dais, curious to see what had happened.

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