The Fortune Hunter Page 0,1

had been so happy, thought Amy wistfully, and the lovely house had frequently been full of guests and had rung with laughter.

She would give anything to have those days back.

"I don't think I would care for a Season really," Beryl demurred, coloring. "I'm a little old to be making my curtsy..."

"Nonsense, pet," said Lizzie. "What do you say, Amethyst?"

Above all, Amy hated being faced with the choice of supporting these bubbles of fancy or exploding them. The truth was that Beryl was too old, and that, plain as she was, the chance of her making a match in London was slim indeed, but how could she say that? It wasn't as if Jasper's share in a winning lottery could support such an enterprise anyway, and she could still wring his neck for risking his hard-won book money on such an idiotic enterprise.

Everyone was waiting for her answer and so she said carefully, "I fear there simply isn't enough money. It's a drop in the ocean."

Dismay wiped away joy. Lizzie opened her mouth but it was Jacinth who got in first. "Amethyst de Lacy," she burst out, the use of the full name a protest in itself, "if you are going to be a wet blanket, I swear I will hate you forever!"

Amy pulled an apologetic face. "I'm sorry, Jassy, but we have to be sensible."

"Why?" demanded Jasper. "Look what sensible has achieved. We've been holed up here for two years like... like troglodytes, living from hand to mouth. No hunting. No dancing. No fun at all! It's only when I go and do something unsensible that we get anywhere!"

"Fine," snapped Amy. "And how are you going to build on this? Spend it all on more lottery tickets? Or perhaps you'd rather take it to the races?"

Jasper reddened." I do seem to have a winning streak." At his sister's groan, he quickly added, "But there's no need for that. We have five thousand pounds?"

Jacinth cheered and offered another toast. Amy feared her little sister was on the go.

"Jasper," Amy said gently but firmly, "your masters say you are very good with figures. How many hunters will the income from the money buy and keep? How many fine outfits? How many Seasons will it provide at the same time as it keeps up Stonycourt?"

"To hell with Stonycourt."

Aunt Lizzie gasped. "Jasper!"

"Sorry," he muttered. "But, Amy, the money will buy a lot."

"Not if you preserve the capital. If you can invest it to produce three hundred a year you will be doing well. That will provide a modicum of comfort but you should use some of it to pay down the encumbrances on the estate." Amy sought for a more cheerful aspect. "Of course, if you apply it all to the debt, then it will mean less time until it is cleared. Once we have paid all the debts, you can use the rents for income. We can slowly build."

"Slowly!" Jacinth burst out. "Slowly. That's what you always say. What about poor Beryl? She's twenty-three! She can't wait."

Beryl smiled sadly. "Don't you worry about me, Jassy. I know I'm not going to find a husband without a dowry, and this money can't provide one. Amy's right," she said with a sigh." I'm afraid we're all going to be spinsters."

Jacinth looked aghast at this. She had obviously never previously applied the family's straightened circumstances to herself. "Not Amy," she declared spitefully. "She has only to stand on a corner of the highway to have men groveling at her feet!"

The moment the words were out she looked appalled, clapped a hand over her mouth, and then fled the table with a wail. Jasper scowled accusingly at Amy, then leapt up to go after his twin. Lizzie clucked and heaved herself up to follow.

Beryl placed a comforting hand over Amy's. "She didn't mean it."

Amy squeezed that hand but she said, "Yes, she did, and it's true. I wish to heaven I was plain as a barn door."

For Amy had the curse - as she saw it - of stunning beauty. Her hair was a glittering blond of such complexity of hue that the swains who regularly compared it to spun gold were not being as trite as it would appear. Her face was a charming heart shape; her nose straight but slightly upturned; her soft full lips were a perfect Cupid's bow, curved so that it was extremely difficult for her not to appear to be smiling. Her eyes were large and of a subtle dark blue