The Fortune Hunter Page 0,67

sat down and interrogated by all the friends of the man she was treating so cruelly.

Instead she was given into the hands of a maid, who showed her where she could take off her hat and refresh herself. The other women soon joined her.

Clyta took the opportunity to whisper, "Thank you. We rode together and he complimented my riding. I fear you offended Rowanford, though, by seeming dissatisfied with your mount."

"Indeed you did," said Miss Frogmorton snappily as she pushed at her perfect, glossy curls. Amy wondered if she was beginning to sense some threat to her pursuit of Harry. "You would do better to learn a little decorum, Miss de Lacy, especially when having to admit to an address in Chelsea."

"I know all about decorum," said Amy coolly, "but I don't care a fig if I offend the duke."

Miss Frogmorton sneered. "Yes, my mother said you were on the catch for that rich old banker. Doubtless the best you can hope for from Chelsea. I think I begin to understand what Mr. Crisp meant about adventuresses."

She swept out before Clyta could get out a heated rebuttal. Amy merely stood tight lipped.

"Why that cat!" Clyta exploded.

"Not at all," said Amy. "It is perfectly true."

"No it isn't. You could have the duke if you made a push, and that's more than Lucy Frogmorton could."

Amy smiled and hugged her friend. "I always did love your loyalty, Clyta."

Sophie came in and ran a comb through auburn curls. "Miss Frogmorton looked as if she had just slain a dragon," she remarked.

"Just been rude you mean," said Clyta. "She was sneering at Amy just because she is living in Chelsea."

"It seemed a very pleasant part of Town," said Sophie lightly. "Perhaps Randal and I should move there and bring it into fashion." She assessed Amy. "It must be difficult being so uncomfortably beautiful." Without giving Amy a chance to comment, she linked arms with her. "Come along. Emily and I are completely secure in our husbands' affections and Clyta is your friend. The only envy you need fear here is from the green frog."

All three were giggling as they left the room.

After an ample luncheon, everyone walked out to explore the grounds of Maiden Hall. Amy found herself on the left arm of her host, with Sophie on his right. Emily balanced this by giving an arm each to Randal and Chart, while Clyta walked with Harry, and Lucy Frogmorton clung to the arm of the duke, looking extremely pleased with herself.

It was clear that Lucy had begun to aim higher than the future Lord Thoresby. Really, thought Amy, the girl was shameful. She cared nothing for feelings but was just out for the best catch she could land.

And how's that for a case of the pot calling the kettle black, Amy asked herself, but then reminded herself that she was seeking the greatest fortune for her family's sake, not her own.

"Despite what people think," said Verderan as they strolled between old yew hedges, "I did not name the place when I bought it. The name is ancient."

"But," asked Sophie naughtily, "didn't it add to the attractions just a little bit?"

"I still think Randal should beat you daily," he replied, with a look at Sophie which told Amy he was tamed in much the way a pet tiger is tamed - which is to say, not very much.

They had come to the end of the path and walked out into a meadow. Emily had brought some salt to feed the fallow deer which wandered beneath the nearby trees. She passed it out and the deer, for whom this was a familiar treat, pricked their way delicately to lip the food from their hands.

Amy offered some to a shy fawn and laughed with delight when it took it.

"And do you see just a piece of venison?"

Amy jerked round to face Harry. "Don't be horrible!"

"In what way is it different from the charming lamb?"

"Its mother is prettier."

He frowned slightly.

"Now what have I said?" Amy asked.

He grinned. "I've just remembered what Lucy Frogmorton's mother looks like."

Amy bit her lip and said, "Appearances are not everything, sir."

"True. But the woman also has a sheep's mind."

Amy gave him a reproving look. "Are you suggesting the deer are the epitome of intellectual wit? You are being deceived by appearances again."

He started as if suddenly brought back to himself. "So I am," he said and walked away.

Amy looked around and discovered Lord Randal had decided to emulate his friend and shed a