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S urprised by Juliana’s lack of attentiveness, Victor reframed his question.

Unlike Lydia, Juliana seemed such a level-headed young lady.

Perhaps in his eagerness to begin, he had overstepped.

“If you have other plans, Miss Merrick, I could return at a later date to begin our session. I simply thought since I’m already here and have my sketch pad. ..”

She blinked, her face flushing and giving her that lovely, natural glow he wished to capture on canvas. “You wish to begin with me today?” Her hand drifted to her head, then her bosom, snagging his attention. “But my hair. My clothes.”

“Just some preliminary sketches with ideas. If that is agreeable with you and your mother. And the duke and duchess, of course.”

Drake rose and held out his hand to Honoria. “Shall we leave Victor to his work, my dear? Besides, I expect Kitty is missing us, and I would like a few minutes with her before I leave for Lords.”

Ah, yes. Their infant daughter. Nervous energy battered Victor’s chest at the thought of painting a squirming infant. He’d heard horror stories while studying under the masters in Italy.

He would tackle that challenge later. At the moment, his focus should be on Juliana.

He rose and bowed toward Drake and Honoria. “Thank you for the privilege, Your Graces.”

“Remember, Victor. It’s Drake.” Drake clasped Victor on the shoulder and gave a squeeze. “I expect we’ll be seeing quite a lot of each other, and the honorific becomes tiresome.” He turned toward his sister and mother. “Keep an eye on her, Mother.”

Once reseated, Victor jotted down a note reminding him to capture the glint in Drake’s eyes and the playful quirk if his lips that matched that of his father’s.

While Mrs. Merrick sat quietly working on a piece of embroidery, Victor retrieved his sketchpad. “Would you mind moving to the sofa, Juliana? Seated across from me would work best. The lighting is perfect there.”

Juliana fussed with her skirts as she positioned herself, worry creasing her brow. “What should I do?”

“First. Relax. I’ll make some sketches while we get to know each other. Other than your expertise on horseback, tell me a little more about yourself. Your likes, dislikes. What gives you joy?”

An intriguing, deeper blush covered her cheeks. Well. What might that be about?

“I’m not comfortable talking about myself.”

Definitely not like Lydia. “Don’t think of it as talking about yourself, but about the things you find interesting, joyful, or even distasteful if you wish.”

She nodded and sucked in her bottom lip.

Victor’s heart gave a decided thump at her innocent action. Keep it professional, man.

“Early mornings, when the sun comes up over the rolling hills at Drake’s estate in Dorset. The light is so perfect, the vibrant colors holding a promise of something wonderful. It’s the best time for riding. The scent of dew fresh on the grass and birds waking up and singing.”

Victor’s pencil stilled over the paper, his mind enraptured. “Beautiful.”

“Oh, it is,” she said.

But Victor wasn’t speaking of her description, although it was quite poetic. It was the expression on her face, the wistfulness in her eyes that was simply—lovely. Did she even realize her allure? As his pencil scratched across the rough surface of the paper, he did his best to capture the moment.

Lifting his gaze from the paper, he asked, “Do you have a favorite horse?”

Different from the dreamy look she had before, her face lit with excitement. “I do. Sunshine. The mare I rode the other day.”

Victor nodded, sketching another image of her next to the first. He would either decide later which to use in her formal portrait or ask Drake’s preference. Although both captured Juliana’s spirit, Victor fancied the dreamy-eyed Juliana a bit more.

“Tell me more about Sunshine. Describe how it feels to ride her.”

As he’d hoped, the dreamy expression crossed Juliana’s face again. “Freeing. Especially if I’m riding where she can run. Hyde Park was lovely, but other than stopping a runaway pony, there isn’t much opportunity to allow Sunshine free rein.” Her attention drifted to a spot over Victor’s shoulder.

“Lord Felix Davies here for Miss Merrick,” Frampton, the butler, announced.

What is he doing here ? Victor exchanged a glance with Juliana.

Juliana’s brow furrowed.

Surprised? Annoyed? Both?

“Tell Lord Felix I’m not at home.”

“Now, Miss Merrick, is that any way to treat your admirers?”

Victor turned at Davies’s slimy voice.

The cad gave an exaggerated bow. “Mrs. Merrick.”

“I instructed you to wait in the entryway, my lord,” Frampton said, pulling himself up to his full height.

Davies held a hand to his heart. “Love heeds no one, my good man.” He held out an enormous bouquet. “For you, dear lady.”

Victor wanted to cast up his accounts.

Frampton snatched the flowers from Davies’s grip. “Allow me to put these in water , Miss Merrick.”

From Frampton’s tone, Victor surmised water equated to the rubbish pile.

“Pratt,” Davies said, the intonation much like that of Frampton’s water . His gaze drifted to the sketches in Victor’s hands, and his eyes narrowed.

“Davies,” Victor volleyed back with as much vitriol as he could muster, each of them sizing up the other.

Juliana’s soft voice broke the staring competition. “My apologies. As you can see, sir, I am occupied and, unfortunately, have no time for unexpected callers.”

Well done, Juliana. Victor fought his smirk at the perfectly delivered setdown.

“Of course.” Davies waved it off, and rather than apologizing and leaving, he made himself comfortable on the unoccupied wingback. “I promise I won’t stay long. However, I wanted to put my mind at ease that you have not taken those scurrilous reports to heart.”

Victor’s stomach clenched, and his gaze darted toward Juliana.

Juliana’s brow furrowed. “Reports?”

Feigned concern colored Davies’s deceitful face. “Then you haven’t heard? Well, I suppose that’s for the best. It would only upset you.”

Fire shone in Mrs. Merrick’s eyes, and she touched her daughter’s arm as if to soothe her. “Sir, if you have something to tell us that concerns my daughter, please do so and stop beating about the bush with intimations.”

Victor’s respect for the entire family grew tenfold. If only his own mother would champion her children instead of trying to manipulate their lives.

“If you insist.” Davies pulled the scandal sheet from his pocket and handed it to Mrs. Merrick. “Read for yourself.”

Oh, the man was beyond devious. Mrs. Merrick walked right into his trap.

Victor’s grip on the pencil tightened, and he had no greater wish than to stab Davies with it.

Juliana leaned over, joining her mother in reading the ghastly gossip rag. Her hand drifted up to cover her mouth and her eyes widened. She locked eyes with Victor. “Did you know?”

Victor swallowed the overly large lump in his throat. “Well . . . I . . .”

“You did. Why didn’t you say anything?” Juliana’s eyes brightened with a shimmer of tears, but she blinked them back.

“Forgive me, Miss Merrick. I have no desire to cause you distress.” He glared at Davies. “Unlike others.”

“Me?” Davies’s mock offense was laughable. “Unlike you , Pratt, I came here because I believe forewarned is forearmed, and I have a solution to this”—he gestured toward the paper in Mrs. Merrick’s hands—“unfortunate turn of events.”

Victor continued to glower. “Unless your solution is to stop the person spreading these horrible rumors, I doubt Miss Merrick would be interested.”

Davies pressed his lips together and gave an audible sigh. “Oh, dear boy. It’s only a rumor if the truth of it is doubtful. As we both know, Miss Merrick was indeed seen riding astride.”

Blood pounded in Victor’s skull. “And yet that rag failed to mention her courageous rescue of Dr. Somersby’s daughter. Funny how it only reports the negative side of things.”

Davies studied his nails. “Which is why I’m here.”

Apparently recovered from the shock, Juliana found her voice. “Which is, Lord Felix?”

“To court you. Being seen with a well-regarded?—”

“Ha. Well-regarded my foot.” Victor mumbled his exclamation of disbelief just loud enough to give Davies pause.

The cad cleared his throat and slid a narrow-eyed glance toward Victor. “As I was saying, being seen with a member of the ton will go a long way to quell some of the wagging tongues. Especially if I’m courting you.”

Juliana squared her shoulders, determination shining in her eyes. “My brother and his wife are members of the ton .”

Felix shook his head as if trying to explain something to a small child. “My dear lady. Scandal firmly attached itself to your brother and his wife without any assistance from you. Not only can they not help you, but have you considered you will do them even more harm?”

The urge to plant the man a facer exploded in Victor’s chest.

Juliana’s brave stance faltered, her shoulders drooping a fraction. “I...I have.”

“That is, unless you associate yourself with someone who is relatively free from scandal.”

Unable to contain his disgust, Victor huffed again. “You sir, are out of line. And if memory serves, you’ve been in the scandal sheets regularly, Davies.”

“As a victim.” Davies snapped the last word. “Which makes my proposal to Miss Merrick all the more compelling. I have garnered sympathy from those in society due to my ill-treatment by Lady Charlotte.”

The fire flamed in Mrs. Merrick’s blue eyes. “I think we have heard enough, Lord Felix.”

As if he’d been eavesdropping, the butler appeared at the doorway.

“Please show Lord Felix out, Frampton. We wouldn’t want him to become lost,” Mrs. Merrick said.