39. The Third and Final Challenge

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Mr Ambrose didn't lead me to the marquess's office as I had expected, or even anywhere else in the manor. Instead, he strode directly down the stairs into the entrance hall and, pushing open the front door, strode out onto the courtyard.

"Ah. You have finally arrived."

The others were waiting for us on the meadow beyond the courtyard. And by "the others" I didn't just mean the marquess and his family. A whole crowd had gathered to watch our little performance. Apparently, not everyone had gone home after the ball, and the ones who hadn't were now gathered around the edges of the meadow, whispering to each other.

Gossipmongers. Bah!

Although...

My eyes suddenly narrowed. Judging by the fact that most of the crowd were female, and kept throwing glances at my husband, I got the impression they weren't just here for rumours. I recognized those glances, and I most definitely did not appreciate them.

Then why don't you go over to them and protest? I'm sure everyone here would love to hear all about how Mr Rikkard Ambrose is married to Mr Victor Linton who is also trying to marry Miss Adaira Ambrose and start his own harem.

My inner voice really deserved a whack over its non-existent head.

But that would have to wait for later. Right now, we were fast approaching the marquess and his family, as well as the vicomte behind him, who looked all too smug for my liking.

"Father." Stopping several yards away from his sire, Mr Ambrose gave a curt nod. "We're here."

"You took your time."

"I have a habit of taking what is mine." Mr Ambrose's eyes narrowed infinitesimally as they flicked between his father and Adaira. "And not letting go of it, no matter what other people demand. Now...shall we begin?"

"What an excellent idea, mon ami!" With a smile on his handsome face that drew admiring whispers from all around, the vicomte stepped forward. "The servants have informed me that everything is already prepared."

"Then let the contest begin," I declared and, stepping forward, sent the slimy frog a smile filled with confidence I wasn't feeling. "And may the best man win."

Ignoring the choked snort by Adaira in the background, I strode forward and tried my best to project manly confidence.

Maybe, Lilly, you should have bought an extra pair of socks.

With narrowed eyes, I let my gaze sweep over the assembled crowd. "So...how is this going to work?"

"Simple." The marquess gestured to myself and the vicomte, an expression on his face I definitely did not like. "For the first part of the challenge, both of you will provide statements regarding your income and possessions, and I shall judge the results. Naturally, the more affluent gentleman will carry the day."

"Naturally." About as expected. My eyes met the vicomte's, and the man smirked. Before I could say a single word, he stepped forward and snapped his fingers.

"Vayssière!"

A tall, almost skeletal man with salt-and-pepper hair detached himself from the crowd and moved forward with measured steps. He wore a pristine custom-made tailcoat and an expression as if he could calculate the number of hair follicles on your nose with a mere glance.

"This, everyone, is Olivier Vayssière, steward of all my lands and properties," the vicomte introduced him with a superior smile. "As a nobleman, I have better things to do than to take care of the day-to-day operations. Thus, I have called him here to give an accounting of all the worldly possessions I would bring into a marriage. Vayssière, if you would?"

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