The Fortune Hunter Page 0,68

great deal of clothing. As he was equally as handsome as Lord Templemore the effect was dramatic. Before her startled eyes Harry and Chart followed suit, shedding jackets and stocks and opening shirts to the breeze.

Neither had the lithe elegance of the older men but they were well built. Amy remembered thinking that she had never seen more of Harry's body than his face and hands, and she wished it had stayed that way.

The open shirt showed a glimpse of tawny curls on his chest, and there was a soft glint of them on his forearms. Amy discovered the desire to run her hand along those muscular arms was almost overpowering. She dragged her eyes away.

She stared over at Lord Templemore, who was laughing and looked a very Lucifer indeed. He had said, "I make it my practice to infect everyone I meet," and he'd been telling no less than the truth. A cricket ball had appeared from somewhere and he threw it hard and long to Chart, who caught it and threw it back. The man's body as he reached up to catch it was that of a thoroughbred, a hunting cat, sinuously graceful, dangerous.

He was not tamed at all. He was wicked, this place was wicked, and they were all being infected by it.

To prove Amy's point, Sophie shed the jacket of her habit, and pulled off her boots and stockings so she could join the game barefoot. Clyta giggled and followed suit.

"Oh dear," said Lucy Frogmorton looking aghast. "My mother..."

What they needed here, thought Amy, was a proper chaperone. Sophie, married lady though she was, was clearly no use. Lady Templemore was watching without a trace of unease. She came over to Amy and Lucy and said, "Don't you care to act like children? Very wise. Come and sit with me in the shade."

Amy trailed along but resentment grew in her. Where was it written she could not join in this madness if she wanted to? A servant had brought cricket bats, and a game of sorts was taking place, though the rules were not ones that the Marylebone Cricket Club would recognize. Chart was currently chasing Lord Randal about with the ball.

The men's shirts were beginning to stick to their heated bodies. So were the lawn bodices of Sophie and Clyta's habits. Sophie had somehow pinned her skirt up so that it did not trail on the ground. A great deal of leg was exposed.

Lucy sat stiffly on a blanket in the shade of an oak and stared into the harmless distance. Lady Templemore was waiting for Amy.

"Why aren't you joining in?" Amy asked her.

"I'm increasing," Lady Templemore replied frankly. "I doubt one has to be as careful as they say, but Ver worries if I'm likely to fall or be hit." She gave a wistful sigh. "It's the very devil."

"Increasing?" asked Amy with a blush.

"Love," said the older woman. She looked shrewdly at Amy. "Why don't you join in? The sides are uneven."

Amy found she had her jacket, boots, and stockings off without conscious thought. She looked at her bare feet and remembered her time in Harry's kitchen. This was very, very dangerous, and if she had a particle of common sense she would dress again and watch the horizon with Lucy Frogmorton until sanity returned.

Common sense had deserted her.

"Here," said Lady Templemore and took a long pin from the etui which hung from her belt. "One learns to be prepared for anything," she commented. "It will be safer if your skirts don't trail." She went off to hitch up Clyta's skirts.

Amy did her best to pin up her skirts without revealing much leg. It proved impossible.

"This is terrible!" exclaimed Lucy, glaring at her. "My mother did question visiting such a place, but Mr. Crisp, and the duke..."

"Since you're here," said Amy, "don't you think you might as well join in? It can't do any harm."

Lucy stared at her. "It is as good as an orgy!"

Amy laughed as she went off to join in, but she thought Lucy made more sense than she knew. It wasn't an orgy and there was no chance that any true impropriety would take place, but it was wild and uncivilized. The laws of Society had been blown away as a brisk breeze dispels fog, and all sorts of outrageous things could happen.

There were no formal teams. Clyta and the duke were at bat and the rest were fielding. Lord Templemore placed Amy in right field a safe distance from