Tristan pointed at the bidder. Leo craned his neck around to see the absolutely crazed look on the man’s face. “Five hundred! Any other bidders?”
People murmured, but no one else waved any banknotes.
“You win, sir! Come forward, and my father, Lord Rascomb will collect your notes, and you may collect Miss Kilimanjaro. But not before we learn her identity!”
The musicians played a lively jig while two women appeared on the platform, removing the wig carefully. Then MissKilimanjaro untied her mask, revealing herself to be Miss Justine Brewer. The winning bidder’s face brightened and his chest puffed out. He’d clearly hoped it would be her. Leo suddenly thought that he was not the only man here who had set about trying to discern which lady was which.
Everyone clapped and laughed as Miss Brewer gave an elegant curtsy. She descended the mountain and disappeared from Leo’s sight.
“Next we have Miss Everest. The tallest mountain in the known world, the unconquerable peak, the challenge of future mountaineers!”
“Get on with it!” someone yelled.
Bridewell gave a scowl to the crowd. “Do I have ten pounds?”
The bidding was not quite as anxious as Miss Brewer’s round was, but there was a restrained and respectable debate between some older men in the crowd. A few younger men made their attempts, but ultimately, it settled at three hundred and fifty pounds to a Mr. Grainger of the London Alpine Society.
Lewd jests rippled through the crowd of Grainger finally climbing a mountain. Miss Everest’s wig was removed, revealing a pile of golden blonde curls. The woman untied her mask and proved herself to be Miss Ophelia Bridewell, the daughter of their host, and the leader of their expedition. The rude comments ceased immediately.
“Next is Miss Ben Nevis!” The woman climbed up to join Bridewell on the platform. That cobalt blue dress that accented her beautifully long neck bared her strong, sculpted shoulders, and the embroidered silver bodice adorned her trim torso that he knew so well.
“I would like to make sure it is known that the Ladies’ Alpine Society successfully ascended the Scottish peak last summer. We came in under budget, under time, and I managed to realize thatI needed a wife. If that’s not the Ladies’ Alpine Society producing miracles, I don’t know what is.”
Laughter rolled through the crowd. Yes, yes, Tristan was an unserious man, and marriage somehow made him less so. Leo’s stomach tightened in anticipation. But the idiot kept talking. Leo pushed his way further up. He wanted to see her better. Mostly, he wanted her to see him when he won, and they could speak freely as he escorted her in for their midnight supper.
“Get on with it!” Leo was about to yell when someone else beat him to it.
“Do I bore you?” Bridewell asked with some venom.
“Yes!” came the emphatic reply.
“I’m insulted,” he said, though his jovial manner belied that he was not, in fact, anything of the sort. “Fine, onto beautiful ladies, if that’s what you want. Miss Ben Nevis! Let’s start at ten pounds!”
Leo didn’t have time for this. “One hundred pounds!”
Without so much as a hesitation came “Two hundred!” from further in the crowd.
Incensed, Leo responded with “Three hundred.” He made his way nearer to the other bidder, who had now increased the wager to four hundred.
“Five,” yelled Leo, finally picking his way over to none other than Eyeball.
Eyeball looked in him straight in the face and yelled, “Six!”
“Six hundred pounds, so far the highest bid,” Bridewell said. “Do I hear seven?”
“Seven!” Leo said, turning his attention to the front, to Prudence. She stared down at him. Did she see him? Did she understand and know why he bid on her so outlandishly? Surely, she had to know that his ardor for her had not cooled—not one ounce.
“Eight!” Eyeball shouted.
“You great fool,” Leo spat. “You don’t have that kind of money.”
Eyeball gave him a lazy grin. “You’ve been teaching me how to invest, Leo. Of course I have this kind of money. Are you willing to spend yours?”
“Nine!” Leo yelled.
“I would like to remind the gentlemen here that you must be able to submit your funds to my father within two days’ time.”
“One. Thousand. Pounds.” Eyeball announced, staring Leo dead in the eye.
