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  “There!” His voice was triumphant. “The telescope is now lined up correctly. Take a look through the tube, but be careful not to touch it or it will be knocked out of alignment.”

  Obediently Antonia stepped to the tripod that held the tube, which was less than a foot long and perhaps two inches in diameter. As her eye adjusted to the small eyepiece, she gasped in awe. “It’s beautiful!”

  Hanging bright against the night was a white-gold sphere with sharp-edged rings above its equator, a vision as improbable as it was lovely. “I’ve heard of the rings of Saturn, but I never expected such majesty.”

  In her excitement, she straightened up too quickly, brushing one leg of the tripod and knocking the instrument away from its target. Guiltily she jumped back. “Oh, Lord, Simon, I’m sorry. After all your careful work.”

  “No matter.” His slow voice was unperturbed. “Tonight wasn’t for serious observing. I’ve seen Saturn before. I just wanted you to see it too, because it’s the loveliest sight in the heavens.” He seated himself on a bench behind the telescope, taking the opportunity to put an arm around Antonia when she joined him.

  She cuddled against him happily. “It’s amazing that such a small instrument can provide such sights.”

  “It’s a duplicate of Sir Isaac Newton’s first reflecting telescope. He presented the original to the Royal Society.” Simon used his free hand to pat the small instrument affectionately. “I’ve carried this one all over the world. It only magnifies fifty times, but it has been invaluable when there was no observatory available.” He chuckled. “Unfortunately, there is some kind of unwritten law that having a small telescope merely whets one’s appetite for a larger one.”

  “Shall I get you a larger one for a wedding gift?” Antonia had been trying to think of a truly special present for her future husband.

  “Definitely not. The really good ones are wildly expensive.” He pulled her closer. “I’ll get one someday. In the meantime, there are other telescopes available. The Greenwich Observatory for one. Herschel himself said he would let me use his if I visited him at Slough, though that is not a privilege one would wish to abuse.”

  “Herschel?”

  Antonia could feel Simon’s quizzical glance even in the dark. “You’ve never heard of the Astronomer Royal? William Herschel is near seventy now, but still active and possibly the finest astronomer of our age. He’s the first man since the days of the ancients to discover a new planet. Some astronomers call it Herschel in his honor, though the classicists who prefer the name ‘Uranus’ seem to be carrying the day.”

  “I’m afraid I’m not very knowledgeable about science and mathematics,” Antonia apologized, making a mental note to inquire about getting him a telescope. She might not know much about the subjects that interested him, but she could use her fortune to help advance his work.

  “And I am not very knowledgeable about politics, farming, or anything else practical.” Simon’s soft chuckle was intimate in the dark. He caressed her cheek with a lingering touch, then lifted her chin. “But, between us, we are very well-informed.”

  Before his lips met hers, he whispered the seductive promise, “When the moon is full, I’ll show you the famous craters. That’s another splendid sight.”

  Antonia preferred to leave contemplation of craters for a later moment. Kissing was a much better way to use a dark night.

  But as she slid her arms around her betrothed, she wondered how often her husband would prefer to spend the night with a telescope rather than with her.

  * * * *

  Antonia turned slowly in front of the mirror, studying the drape of the sari. It had taken time to fold, wind, and tuck the garment, but now the shimmering silk clung to her shapely figure in a convincing fashion. The gold-embroidered end was drawn upward over her left shoulder, then fell gracefully down her back. Her other shoulder was bare. She felt daring and exotic, though the sari was no more revealing than an English ball gown. “Do you think this is correct, Judith?”

  “I won’t swear that you are wearing it properly, but you look magnificent,” her friend said with a smile. “Derbyshire will talk of nothing else for the rest of the summer.”

  “Good!” Like any woman in love, Antonia was eager for her man to admire her. Or, to be precise, she wanted him to be madly, passionately adoring.

  After a last touch to the curls of apricot hair that were permitted to escape her chignon, she accompanied Judith downstairs. She and her guests were invited to dinner and informal dancing at a neighboring estate. It was Antonia’s first public appearance with her betrothed, and she was eager to show him off.

  Both men were waiting in the drawing room, and Simon’s intensely blue eyes showed a very satisfactory amount of adoring passion at the sight of her. “You look like a goddess,” he said softly after he had kissed her hand.

  For a moment she basked in his patent admiration, feeling warm and wanted. She had waited a lifetime for this. Antonia’s gaze lingered on Simon’s elegant height. He looked utterly, heart-stoppingly handsome in his black evening clothes. She felt quite a bit of passionate adoration herself.

  Belatedly recalling that they were not alone, she released Simon’s hand and turned to her cousin. Adam had been complimenting Judith, who was very fine in a white muslin gown embroidered with bands of silver thread.

  “Do I look like an Indian lady?” Antonia asked. “Judith and I spent quite some time deciphering and practicing the sari instructions.”

  Regrettably, Adam was less impressionable than his friend. After his gray-green eyes had scanned her from head to gold-slippered feet, he delivered his judgment in a matter-of-fact voice. “You do not look in the least Indian, not with your coloring. I expect you are more interested in being told how beautiful you are than in how authentic the sari is.”

  Unable to suppress a smile, Antonia considered his words. “Quite right. Given a choice, I prefer a compliment to almost anything else.”

  Adam laughed. “Very well. You look stunning, as well you know.” A wicked glint showed in his eyes. “Are you worried about whether the sari will stay up if you do any dancing?”

  “It has occurred to me that the potential for disaster exists,” she admitted, “so I have a few discreet pins in places that don’t show. I didn’t trust all the tucks to stay tucked.”

  She gave Simon a mischievous glance. “As I recall. Sir Isaac Newton was quite specific on the unfortunate effects of gravitation on an improperly tucked sari.”

  They all laughed, and proceeded out to the carriage for the ride to Ansley Place, the seat of Sir Ralph Edgeton and his family. Antonia and Judith were frequent visitors to the house, but their escorts aroused a flurry of excited interest.

  Inevitably the other females present became wide-eyed and fluttery at the sight of Lord Launceston. In response, Simon withdrew into the cool, polite detachment that Antonia had not seen since his arrival at Thornleigh. By this time, she recognized his remoteness as a mask for his unexpected shyness.

  Simon and Adam were an interesting study in contrasts, like classical statues of Contemplation and Action, or perhaps Thinker and Builder. Both were well-dressed and close to the same age, but the similarities ended there. Simon was taller, dark-haired, lighter in both build and voice, and wore an air of quiet containment.

  While Adam didn’t have Simon’s breathtaking good looks —no one did—her cousin had a powerful, dynamic presence that drew the eye. Interestingly, Adam attracted almost as much attention as Lord Launceston, and he was a good deal more at ease with it as he moved around the room, greeting old acquaintances and making new ones.

  No one had heard of Antonia and Simon’s betrothal, and much time was spent in exclamations and congratulations to the future bride and groom. Later, after an excellent dinner and several sets of country dancing, Antonia mentioned the fact to her intended when they went outside for cooler air. “It seems odd that no one read about our engagement.”

  They had been strolling across
the brick patio, but her words caused Simon to stop, a guilty expression on his face. “I daresay I forgot to post the notices to the London newspapers.” Seeing Antonia’s dismayed expression, he added apologetically, “I’m afraid I forget things with some regularity.”

  Antonia stared at him. How could he forget something so important? She made an effort to keep the sharpness from her tone. “It isn’t really important. It’s just that I want everyone in Britain to know how lucky I am.”

  “I’ll post the letters tomorrow,” he promised.

  She thought a moment. “We might as well wait and send in a notice after the wedding, since it is only a fortnight away.”

  “Very well.” Simon gazed down at her, laying a hand over hers where it rested on his arm. “A fortnight seems an eternity.”

  “It does indeed,” she murmured, her voice as husky as his. The light from the drawing room emphasized the clean planes of his face and shadowed the faint cleft in his chin.

  But even as they gazed raptly at each other, Antonia could not quite still her doubts. For the first time, she wondered if she was as important to Simon as he was to her.

  * * * *

  Once planted, doubt grew with startling speed, and with it came tension. The next day when they were riding, Antonia presented a carefully reasoned plea for spending a substantial part of the year at Thornleigh. Of course, time must be spent in London and at the Launceston estate in Kent, but to her the Peak District would always be home.

  Though she could visit here alone, she would much prefer having the company of her husband. She had no desire to have a fashionable marriage where the partners scarcely ever saw each other.

  Simon’s noble brows were drawn together during her speech, and she believed he was well-inclined to her proposal. But when she finished speaking and asked his opinion, her betrothed remarked thoughtfully that the contours of the Peaks reminded him of an area in Switzerland where glaciers had gouged out the rock.

  Irritated that he had not been listening to something so important to her, Antonia snapped at her betrothed. His face had closed up immediately; she had seen before how he could withdraw behind an unbreachable barrier, but this was the first time he had done so with her.

  With a mental curse for her unruly tongue, she apologized immediately. Though he apologized in turn for his distraction and assured her that the spat was forgotten, they began to be wary with each other.

  Ten days before the wedding, tension escalated to full-scale battle. They were having tea together in the morning room when Antonia asked about provisions for health care and education among the Launceston tenants.

  Simon looked blank. “I have no idea what the situation is.”

  Raised by a Whig nobleman who constantly emphasized the responsibility that privilege carried, Antonia was deeply shocked by his answer. Not wanting to think badly of her beloved, she said, “I suppose you haven’t been back in England long enough to become familiar with conditions on your estate.”

  With unfortunate truthfulness, Lord Launceston replied, “To be honest, when I was at Abbotsden it didn’t occur to me to ask my steward about such things.”

  “If you don’t take an interest in your tenants’ welfare, who will?” Antonia pointed out with what she considered perfect reasonableness.

  “Isn’t that what stewards are for?” Simon answered with equal logic.

  “No matter how competent a steward is, one can’t count on him to take an enlightened interest.” Antonia struggled mightily to keep her exasperation from showing, but was not entirely successful. “For that matter, many of them will rob their masters blind if not closely monitored.”

  Simon sighed. “I daresay you are right, but I find the idea of keeping my employees up to the mark quite tedious. I would far rather be at my studies.”

  “Natural philosophy is all very well,” Antonia said tartly, “but one’s responsibilities must come first. Are your tenants adequately housed and fed? Is medical care available? Did your father have an enclosure act passed, and if so, have the freeholders who are injured by such acts been properly compensated? Are promising children given the opportunity to advance themselves through education?”

  With a flash of irritation, Simon said, “Since you are so concerned with the welfare of my dependents, I give you leave to arrange such matters after we are married. Certainly you enjoy managing far more than I do.”

  “An excellent idea,” Antonia said tightly. “Someone must be concerned for their well-being, and obviously it won’t be you.”

  Their ideas about what was important differed sharply, and with shocking suddenness they moved from amiability to alienation. Simon withdrew into the detachment that upset her so, his handsome face chilly and remote, but she could see the pain in his intense blue eyes.

  Impulsively she reached out one hand. “Simon, I’m so sorry. I don’t mean to be a managing female. You were not raised to be the heir, and it is beastly of me to criticize you for not immediately becoming a model landlord.”

  He clasped her hand hard, his expression softening with relief. “But you’re right, Antonia. The Launceston estate supports many people. It’s a disgrace that I don’t even know how many dependents I have, much less what their condition is.”

  He shook his head ruefully. “A tragedy that my brother died. He was much better at practical matters than I. That’s why we never got on, actually. Will you help me learn what I should know? The well-being of my dependents is more important than my dabblings in natural philosophy.”

  In an instant she was in his arms, clinging as if an embrace could erase the unpleasantness, her face muffled against the smooth weave of his blue coat. “I should not have said what I did. Any country squire can oversee an estate. Your intelligence and talent for natural philosophy are far rarer and more valuable. In the long run, it is thinkers and scholars like you who will improve the lives of everyone.”

  He held her tightly and she raised her face to his. This time, when they kissed, an undercurrent of desperation ran between them.

  * * * *

  A bespectacled gentleman was reading in the library when Judith entered, and for a moment she didn’t recognize him. Then he glanced up and she realized it was Lord Launceston.

  Amazing what a difference a pair of gold-rimmed spectacles made. Though he was still the handsomest man she’d ever seen, his scholarly air made him look more like a professor than a romantic hero.

  Characteristically oblivious to the effect he produced, Simon rose politely and held up the volume he was reading. “I see from the inscription that this is your copy of The Theory of the Earth. I hope you don’t mind my reading it. My own is in Kent, and there is something I wanted to check.” He laid the book on the table. “Tell me, what do you think of Hutton’s ideas?”

  “I can see why he is considered sacrilegious by those who believe the earth only six thousand years old,” Judith replied cautiously, “but his theories appear sound. It seems logical that the earth has been formed over eons of time, from many different processes of water, wind, and heat.”

  “I agree. Someday James Hutton will be considered the father of geology. His theories have the simplicity and logic of brilliance.” After they had both settled in the comfortable library chairs, Simon asked, “Have you read much geology?”

  She waved her hand deprecatingly. “Some. All nature is fascinating, but plants and flowers interest me more than rocks. When I was a child, nature was a great solace.”

  “Oh, yes, I recall that Antonia told me that you do wonderful drawings of wildflowers,” Lord Launceston said with every evidence of interest. “I’d like to see them sometime, if you didn’t mind showing them to me.”

  “Really?” Judith said doubtfully.

  “Really.” Simon’s smile was reassuring. “Good art enables one to see the world in a new way, and I would expect you to draw very well indeed.”

  “My drawings aren’t really art. They are just accurate records of local botanicals,”
Judith cautioned, but she was already heading to the far end of the library, where a portfolio of her drawings was stored. It was impossible to resist the opportunity to show off work that she was secretly very proud of.

  She expected him to flip through the portfolio quickly, but Simon took his time, examining every drawing carefully and reading the notes that she’d written on the side. When he finally looked up, his blue eyes glowed behind the spectacles. “Your drawings are lovely in themselves, but far more important, you have the eye of a natural philosopher. Every detail is rendered with exquisite accuracy. At least, it appears that way to me. Have you considered having these published?”

  “Publish my drawings?” Judith said, surprise even stronger than her pleasure at his good opinion. “Who could possibly be interested in common wildflowers?”

  “Many people, when they are as well done as these.” He grinned. “It won’t be enough people to make you rich, but I imagine you would find it satisfying to reach a wider audience.” He glanced down at the portfolio again. “I gather from your notes that many of these are flowers found only in the high country. That would make an interesting focus for a book.”

  “What you say is very flattering,” Judith said, “but I haven’t the faintest idea of how to find a publisher.”

  “I know a man in London who publishes serious works of natural science, including studies of wildlife. In fact, he is the one who has been alternately coaxing and threatening me to finish my paper on geology. With your permission, I’ll send him a sample of your work.”

  “Of course you have my permission,” Judith said with a delighted smile.

  She allowed herself to savor a warm glow of pleasure. Even if the publisher was uninterested, Simon’s respect and approval gave her an insidious satisfaction. She might not be beautiful and charming like Antonia, but she had a few talents that the other woman lacked.

  It was an unworthy thought, and Judith immediately chastised herself. Thinking of her employer, she asked, “Where is Antonia? I thought you were going riding together.’’