Page 88 of A Picture Is Worth A Thousand Heirs

Solemn-faced, Drake clutched a piece of parchment in one hand as he waved the guests to silence. “My lords and ladies. I’ve just received distressing news. The king is dead.”

Hushed murmurs traveled through the throng as people digested the news.

Next to Juliana, Mr. Grey stood motionless, his face unreadable.

Although the king, who many had only thought of as Prinny, was not well loved, he had still been their king.

Some gasped, hands over their mouths, while others seemed to accept the news as unremarkable. Lord Middlebury waddled over to Lord Felix and muttered something in his ear.

Drake held up his hands again. “As much as it pains me, I suggest everyone return home to mourn our sovereign in private. I thank you all for coming. I wish this evening hadnot ended on such a sad note. May our new king live long and prosper. Long live the king.”

“Long live the king,” the crowd replied.

In hushed silence, the crowd dispersed, and Juliana’s gaze landed on Victor.

As selfish as it was, she was grateful the sad news had put an end to the evening.

Selfishly,Victor silently thanked Prinny for putting an end to the evening. What had started as a joyful celebration had turned maudlin in so many respects. He needed to speak with Juliana alone, and he’d had little hope of doing so among the throng of people. With a quick word to his parents, he instructed them to go home without him. He would hire a hackney.

Across the ballroom, Juliana stood next to Mr. Grey, her face—like most—a mask of disbelief and sadness.

The question was: did Juliana mourn the king or was Victor responsible for her distress? He refused to examine it further, for deep inside, he knew the answer.

When she turned to look at him, their eyes locked. He stood rooted in place, his mind begging his feet to move. Slowly, as the crowd thinned, he took the first laboring steps, his legs leaden. One opportunity to convince Juliana he truly cared and wished to proceed with their marriage awaited him.

He could not bungle it.

Mr. Grey remained staunchly at her side like a bulwark impeding Victor’s progress.

“Might I have a private word with Miss Merrick, Mr. Grey?”

The giant of a man quirked an eyebrow at Juliana. “You should tell him about the incident in the hallway.”

After that enigmatic comment, Mr. Grey bowed to Juliana, gave Victor a nod, then left.

Victor frowned. “What incident in the hallway? What is he talking about?”

“Miss Whyte wasn’t the only one to see you and Adalyn together. When I was on my way to meet you, Lord Felix stopped me in the hallway to tell me about it. I didn’t want to believe it, and we argued.”

Fear gripped Victor, and his head pounded. His gaze dropped to where Juliana hugged herself, covering her arm. As gently as he could, he tugged her hand away, revealing distinct fingerprints. Fear morphed into rage, and the pounding in his head worsened. “I will kill him.”

He spun on his heel and frantically searched the remaining guests for Davies.

“He’s already gone.”

Juliana’s soft voice brought him back to earth, and he turned back to her.

“He left with Middlebury right after Drake’s announcement.”

Torn, Victor wanted to race after Davies, find him, and beat him to a pulp. But he also needed to mend things with Juliana. And given that she planned to break their engagement in a few hours, Victor knew his priorities.

“I’ll deal with him later. You’re more important. Please allow me to explain.”

Her lips, which he so wanted to kiss, pressed together in a razor-thin line. “If you want to tell me the kiss was innocent, I believe you.”

“You do?” He wanted to shoutHuzzahfrom the rooftops. “That’s wonderful. Then you’ll still marry me?”

“No.”

---