a regular Croesus, pray tell me now and I'll say yes, and thank you, sir, and be as grovelingly grateful as you clearly expect me to be."
"I do not - "
She interrupted him. "But you're not a Croesus, are you? And so you're no use to me, Mr. Crisp, for all that you're a handsome, pleasant young man. I intend to marry only an immensely rich man."
He turned white. "You bitch."
At the end of her tether, Amy hit him, knocking his head sideways with the force of it. The sound cracked, and in seconds the scarlet mark was on his face like a red flag. Manual labor developed the muscles remarkably.
"Amethyst!" gasped Aunt Lizzie.
Amy turned, horrified, to see Aunt Lizzie, Beryl, Jassy, and Chart Ashby gaping at her. She wished the earth would swallow her. How had she ever become so lost to proper behavior? She turned, seeking adequate apologetic words.
Harry laughed in her face. "I should have known," he said. "Even your name is false. You're not an Amy, you're an Amethyst - beautiful, cold, hard. And for sale to the highest bidder."
Amy forgot apologies. "Leave!" she commanded and pointed dramatically toward the distant gates. "And you will never be welcome here again."
Harry looked her over. "There is certainly nothing here to tempt me." He bowed curtly to the other ladies and stalked off.
Everyone simply stood frozen.
After a moment Chart Ashby made an elegant bow. "Apologies, ladies. 'Fraid we'll have to miss our dish of tea."
No one said a word as he followed his friend, but then Aunt Lizzie said, "Amethyst..."
Amy burst into tears and fled to her room.
When Chart arrived at the drive where they had left their horses, Harry was already at the end of the drive, heading away from Stonycourt at a gallop. Chart made no hurry about following. A long, blistering, lonely ride was probably what his friend needed right now.
Chapter 7
Chart saw no sign of Harry during the leisurely canter back to Hume House. That didn't surprise him. If he'd been assaulted by his beloved, he'd doubtless disappear to lick his wounds.
Chart was mildly puzzled over the behavior of the beautiful Amethyst. Harry Crisp would be quite a catch or her, so why the furor? He couldn't imagine that Harry had done or said anything to truly warrant such outrage, that wasn't in Harry's style. Too sweet-natured for his own good, was Harry, and especially gentle with ladies of all degrees.
When he strolled into Hume House he expected inquiries as to Harry's whereabouts. Instead he was greeted with, "What's got into Harry?"
They were all in what passed for a drawing room - Verderan, Emily, Randal, Sophie, Corny, and Renfrew. It was Randal who had spoken. He was a spectacularly handsome man with golden curls and bright blue eyes made for teasing. In their schooldays he'd been the Bright Angel to Verderan's Dark, but he had left the nickname behind.
"Why d'you ask?" Chart replied.
"Because he stormed in here like a Fury," Randal said, "grabbed a decanter of brandy, and headed for your room. There was a crash a while back but it didn't sound fatal."
"Lord," said Chart, rather awed. He tried to remember the last time Harry had lost his temper. He didn't think Harry ever had.
"He can wreck the place if he wants," said Verderan. "I'm sure there's nothing of value. But we'd rather not have a corpse in the house."
"What happened?" asked Randal seriously.
"I'm not sure," said Chart. "We rode over, and when we spotted the beautiful Amy in the kitchen garden Harry went over to do a spot of wooing while I went up to the house. The other ladies fussed and prepared tea, but when Harry and his beloved didn't come in we all went to find them. We came upon them on the path in a grand heat. He called her a bitch. She hit him and ordered him off the estate. He seemed to be in a taking because her name's Amethyst. I don't know why."
"Amethyst," said Emily. "I only ever heard her called Amy, but it makes sense. They're all named for stones."
"Beautiful, cold, hard, and for sale to the highest bidder," said Chart. "That's a quotation."
"Harry?" queried Randal in amazement.
"Harry."
Everyone in the room took time to ponder this. They all knew Harry Crisp to be an equable young man with beautiful manners.
Kevin Renfrew said, "There speaks a man in love." He appeared completely serious and everyone took it that way. Renfrew had a gift of