“The widow offers you a choice. A shooting match—my particular preference—a knife toss”—he slanted the baron a sharp glance—“or a riddle.”
The baron attempted to hide his grin at the last.
Teddy strode for the door. “We face off tomorrow at six, sir—or I call the debt due. Your choice.”
He yanked open the door, and Georgina tumbled inside. As he’d anticipated, she—and Lady Belfry—had been listening at the door. He caught her by the shoulders, then steadied her on her feet.
Most of the heat went out of him, beholding his soft, utterly feminine wife. “Did you hear all that, madam wife?”
She searched his face. “Mostly. Teddy, you know my father is a puzzle master. He’s bound to—”
“It doesn’t matter, love. However it turns out, I’m still the winner.”
The love, gleaming in her silvery eyes would have made bankrupting himself worth the cost. Luckily, it wouldn’t come to that. Not by a long shot.
He nodded at Lady Belfry, who gazed back at him with wide, stunned, eyes, then he took Georgina’s hand and pulled her in the direction of the foyer. There, he glanced around, nonplused. “Where are your things?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“You are my wife, darling. One night apart was quite enough. You are coming with me.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
The following night,at six p.m. sharp, at the Lyon’s Den on Cumberland Row, Teddy prepared to face off with Lord Belfry before the entirety of the Den’s occupants.
Evidently Mrs. Dove-Lyon had decided to make a spectacle of tonight’s event.
Teddy and Belfry each occupied a satin-covered, wingback armchair which the den’s proprietress had positioned in the center of the gambling floor, on a roped-off, raised platform. She presided between them, holding court behind a gleaming wooden podium.
None of the myriad games and entertainments for which the Den was known were taking place. Instead, onlookers comprised of patrons and employees alike swarmed the platform. Excited murmurs and a palpable air of expectation filled the air.
Mrs. Dove-Lyon lifted one black-gloved hand. Abruptly, the muted strains of an unseen symphony went silent. In an instant, the crowd ceased its prattle.
The widow smiled. Her head swiveled as she, seemingly, took in the throng of spectators. “Gentlemen, welcome, and congratulations on choosing this auspicious night to take your entertainment at theLyon’s Den. Behold Lord Belfry, the Baron of Gladstone, and his challenger Lord Arlington, the Viscount of Helmsley.”
At her pronouncement, a rolling din of excited chatter spread through the crowd. Teddy had to give it to the lady. She knew how to put on a show. No doubt she’d worked out a way to make money on this venture, as well.
She raised her hand once more and silence descended. With the air of a practiced orator, she went on. “In lieu of a duel over a matter of some honor which shall remain nameless, the viscount and the baron have agreed to a competition—of the baron’s choice.
“Lord Belfry, do you wish to engage the viscount in a shooting match, a knife toss, or a riddle?”
Belfry displayed no anxiety whatsoever and Teddy gave thanks his wife was not here to witness her father’s true colors. His eyes, alight with the zeal of an avid gambler, met Teddy’s. “I choose a riddle.”
As Teddy had known—as Georgina had feared. They both knew the man was once a noted puzzle master. Evidently, Mrs. Dove-Lyon was also aware. The woman’s well of intelligence concerning the whole of London society was nothing short of mind boggling.
But what Teddy knew, and, he would guess no one else here did, was that he was also adept at logic. He’d had to be, to survive his childhood. The earl regularly tested his reasoning skills—and he brooked no errors. Not without serious consequences.
“Lay your wagers,” she told her patrons. “The riddle will be read in two minutes.”
Mayhem exploded through the arena as bookies accepted bets and odds were tallied and then tallied again.
In exactly two minutes, the widow’s hand went up, again.
She slipped her hand into a hidden pocket and withdrew a piece of folded parchment. Unfolding it, she lay it before her on the podium. Then, she read aloud:
I hold a court, though wear no crown, where kings may rise or be cast down.
I teach the art of loss and gain, yet seek no profit for my pain.
