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Slight color rose to Victor’s face, and Juliana found it quite attractive. “I confess I did. I’d hoped Miss Merrick would choose the more informal pose. So...”

Mother wagged a finger at Victor. “Ah. Perhaps I shouldn’t allow you two to be unaccompanied except for a footman. You seem prepared to take advantage when the opportunity arises.”

Juliana’s face heated, no doubt becoming pinker than Victor’s. “Mother. He meant coming on horseback.”

“Hmm,” Mama murmured. “Nevertheless, I shall instruct the groom to saddle your horse and secure a footman to accompany you. Juliana, run along and change. I want a brief word with Mr. Pratt.”

Under other circumstances, Juliana would have vibrated with excitement at the prospect of being alone with Victor. Drake’s servants exemplified discretion. Simon had vetted them all personally, checking every reference down to the last detail.

So if Victor desired to steal a kiss, she could convince a footman to turn a blind eye. Anything more than a kiss would be reported to Drake or Mother, but a kiss—that would remain between her and Victor.

Alas, Victor would not attempt such advances, and any sign of affection would be for the benefit of an audience, not a genuine expression between them as a couple.

Instead of excitement, a niggle of worry crept into her mind as she returned to her room to change into her riding habit. What did her mother wish to speak to Victor about? Had she detected any falsehood in his intentions? Had Drake expressed his concerns? Victor said Drake might suspect something.

Pushing it from her mind, she changed into her riding habit and returned downstairs.

Victor waited for her in the entry. He’d already fastened his easel to the side of his saddle and had his satchel with his canvas and supplies draped across his body.

The footman her mother had requisitioned as chaperone had a basket with the refreshments attached to his mount.

“It’s not far,” Victor said, riding next to her and leading them through the busy London streets toward the outskirts of the city.

His gaze traveled over her. “Blue is a most becoming color on you. Another advantage of choosing the informal pose. That particular hue of your riding habit brings out the touch of violet in your eyes. If you had chosen the more traditional pose, I would have asked if you had a formal gown in that shade.”

Juliana felt her own blue eyes paled in comparison with Victor’s, whose sparkled like sunlight on a pool of clear water, with a hint of turquoise whereas hers seemed dulled as if darkened by clouds. “What made you want to become an artist?”

She asked not only to learn about Victor but thought it an easy question to initiate conversation between them.

Yet Victor stared ahead, his expression serious, and she shifted uncomfortably in her saddle.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”

When he turned toward her, his smile did not meet those incredible blue eyes. “Nonsense. We should get to understand each other. Understanding each other will ensure our relationship is believable.” He sighed. “However, my reason may sound ridiculous.”

Nothing that mattered to him would sound ridiculous to her. “You can trust me, Victor.”

Time stretched between them. The horses slowed their pace, the gentle breeze brushing against their skin stilled, and even the birds in the copse of trees ahead halted their song. The weight —the importance—of Victor’s answer dangled in the silence, and Juliana held her breath in anticipation.

His eyes locked with hers, and her heart fluttered at what she saw in them.

“Yes. I believe I can. The easy answer would be that I love art, the process of creating something from nothing. And that would be true—but only the partial truth.” He smiled at her.

“You are so untouched by the ton , Juliana—free from the artifice common among people of my station. Perhaps that’s why I like you so much.

Many people born into the aristocracy lack purpose.

Men languish away their days at their clubs, women their social circles, balls, routs, and garden parties.

Their lives are those of idleness and often indulgence. ”

“I would argue not all people of the aristocracy are so indolent. What of the Duke of Ashton and his clinic?” Drake also came to mind, but she didn’t want Victor to think she perceived his words as a personal attack against her family.

“Ah, you are correct to take me to task with my statement. There are exceptions, including your brother and his duchess. But Ashton spent time in America, and your brother did not grow up under the strict scrutiny of the ton . But let us hope they will inspire others to follow their example. They are swaying my own father to fight for reform in Lords.”

“I’m sorry I interrupted. Please continue.”

His expression, although not quite indulgent, conveyed his patience.

“When I was young, I would stare at the portraits of my forefathers for hours, wondering who they were and what they had accomplished. Other than a few who had effected changes in the law—which I might add were often for their own benefit rather than the good of all humanity—I only knew them as the first Lord Cartwright, or the second, and so on. Their only legacies were leaving sons to inherit the title upon their deaths. And although I have been reared to follow in their footsteps and sire a son to follow me, I wonder if that is all I am destined for. When I die, will my life even have mattered?”

The pain in his eyes lanced her heart, and she wanted to pull him into her arms and comfort him. Her words would have to suffice. “Of course it will.”

The wan smile he gave her conveyed his doubts.

“This is why your brother’s faith in me is so important.

I want to leave something tangible behind that lasts after I die.

To use color and texture to evoke thought, emotion.

Something people will gaze at years later and say, ‘Look how Victor Pratt captured the light in Miss Merrick’s eyes, the playfulness of her smile.

’ I want to be remembered. To have mattered.

And that is why I wanted to become an artist.”

He laughed, the sound forced and brittle. “I told you it was ridiculous. But thank goodness, we’ve arrived at our destination.”

Contrary to Victor’s assertion, Juliana found his answer leagues from ridiculous, and the fact that he trusted her enough to share it gave her heart hope.