The Fortune Hunter Page 0,5

Amy at least wished the dramatic events could have delayed for a little while so that people would still be interested in the minutiae of local life.

April progressed without anything being achieved. Aunt Lizzie received only gossipy replies from London full of plans for victory celebrations but lacking lists of wealthy bachelors.

Jasper wrote that he discovered there were a goodly number of avid hunters still in the area but the single men were all young bucks, and though well-breeched enough none were rich enough for their purposes.

Beryl and Jassy mulled over the local residents with care but could not keep it in their minds that a veritable Croesus was required, and his looks or age were of no account.

"There's that charming Mr. Bunting over at Nether Hendon," said Beryl one evening as they ate their mutton stew. "He's tolerably handsome and I'm sure he has a sweet nature."

Amy forced a smile. "But if he has five thousand a year, I'd be surprised, Beryl."

"Five thousand a year is a comfortable income."

"But doesn't allow much for me to milk him of for Stonycourt," said Amy ruthlessly.

Beryl gaped. Aunt Lizzie frowned. "Amethyst, my dear, don't you think that was a little vulgar?"

Amy rested her head on one hand and gathered her patience. Then she looked up. "I'm sorry. It wasn't a proper thing to say. But there will be no point to this if I merely marry a man who will keep me in comfort. How could I live in comfort while my family suffers? So can we concentrate our efforts on finding another Golden Ball? Please?"

From the end of the table where they ate slightly apart from the family - by their own choice - Pretty cleared his throat.

"Yes. Pretty.." Amy said.

"If I may be so bold, Miss Amethyst, I do know of a very rich man in this locality."

"Who?"

"There is a gentleman of the name of Staverley taken Prior's Grange in Upper Kennet. Talk down at the Jug and Whistle is that he is come from the West Indies very rich indeed and without wife or children that any knows of."

"Is he young?" asked Jassy excitedly.

"Is he handsome?" asked Beryl.

"Are we sure he's rich?" asked Amy.

"Anyone can be a trickster," said Pretty, "but it is the feeling of all that he's warm enough to toast with. Bringing in fine furniture, ordering all kinds of luxuries, hiring ample staff... and," he added with a slight sneer which revealed long stained teeth, "paying on the knob for everything."

"There's no need for that, Pretty," said Amy sharply. "We pay on the knob, too, these days. No one will give us credit. How do I meet this man?"

"Amethyst!" cried Aunt Lizzie. "Do not be so precipitate. We must make the most careful inquiries."

Amy opened her mouth to refute this but then closed it. It was clear that if anything practical was to achieved, she would be best advised to leave her family out of it. At least it seemed the Prettys could be relied on for help, even if it was only from self-interest. No bad thing, thought Amy. Self-interest could generally be relied on.

Chapter 2

Two days later Amy was on the road to Upper Kennet, driving the family's only vehicle - a dogcart - pulled by Zephyr, their only horse. Perhaps Zephyr had once been an appropriate name for this broken-down animal, but no more. She had only been kept because there'd be little profit in selling her.

As the horse plodded along, Amy told herself not to be so ungrateful. They were fortunate to have a beast to pull the old cart when needed, and though Zephyr was old and slow she was steady and willing. Clop, clop, clop went the hooves along the road. Amy let the ribbons lie slack as she reviewed her plan, searching out flaws.

Investigation had failed to discover a reliable way of meeting Mr. Owen Staverley. According to Pretty he was past forty, of a stocky build and a taciturn manner. It was said he walked with a limp, but there was no report of other ill health. He occasionally went into Oakham or as far as Lincoln on business, but apart from that he stayed at home. Whatever had brought him to this locality, it wasn't the hunting, for he kept only a carriage pair and a quiet hack.

Having failed to discover a public place where she could "accidentally" encounter him, Amy had decided on a cruder but simpler course. She was going to have an accident