Carousel of Hearts Page 7

  Lord Launceston glanced away, the enthusiasm he had shown for Judith’s work fading from his face, leaving his expression cool and unreadable. “Antonia went alone. I find it unnerving to watch the suicidal way she hurls herself down the hills. I made the mistake of telling her that yesterday.”

  Judith rolled her eyes, trying to make a joke of it. “I’m sure you learned your error quickly.”

  “Indeed.” His faint smile was humorless. “She said I could ride like a slowtop if I wished, but she had no intention of doing the same.”

  “Oh, dear.” Judith’s brow furrowed, knowing the words were inadequate. “You know she didn’t mean it.”

  “Oh, she meant it, though she didn’t intend insult,” he said dryly. “Antonia’s quite right. I can stay on a horse well enough, but I’m no great rider. Nor a whip, for that matter. To me, horses and carriages are transportation, not a passion.” He absently removed a red-gold hair from his sleeve. “She apologized.”

  Looking beyond his words, Judith asked quietly, “Is something wrong?”

  Lord Launceston removed his glasses and stood, moving across the room with his natural grace to gaze out the window at the Peaks. His voice was halting. “I d-don’t know. We keep quarreling. Then we are both aghast and make up immediately.” He turned his palm up vaguely. “The issues are usually trivial, but we seem to be always on the verge of a row. I detest rows.”

  He turned to face Judith, appeal on the lean sculpted planes of his face. “You have been married. Is it possible for two people to be in love, yet to hurt each other constantly?”

  Judith saw the same tension in Lord Launceston that had been visible in Antonia for the last few days. Though her experience of marriage was hardly such as to make her an expert in love, she tried her best to offer guidance.

  “Perhaps you are suffering a reaction to the speed with which you fell in love with each other,” she suggested. “All couples have disagreements. Indeed, from what I have observed, much of a happy marriage is agreeing to disagree. You made a commitment to each other very quickly and are only now discovering your differences. That does not mean you will not suit.”

  He turned again to stare unseeing out the window. “Antonia and I seem to be doing that quite often. Agreeing to disagree.”

  “That is the beginning of learning how to rub along comfortably,” Judith said, trying to be encouraging. “It’s merely a matter of time, of learning each other’s ways.”

  Simon sighed. “Perhaps that is what we need. More time.”

  Bending his head, he wearily massaged his temples. Lord Launceston was a very private man, and Judith felt honored that he treated her as a trustworthy friend. She ached for his unhappiness, wanting to say something that would banish the shadow from his eyes. “When two people love each other, almost anything can be worked out. You will see.”

  He raised his head and gave her a long look. “Thank you, Judith. You’re very wise . . . and very kind.”

  She felt absurdly warmed by his praise.

  * * * *

  Even though there was strain between Lady Antonia and Lord Launceston, overall the four members of the house party blended well. Usually mornings were spent on personal activities. Antonia took care of her estate responsibilities, Judith conferred with the housekeeper or worked on her drawings, Simon read scholarly texts that he had purchased on his return to England, and Adam dealt with formidable quantities of papers sent to him by his London commercial agent.

  In the afternoons, they usually did things as couples. Evenings were spent with the four of them talking and laughing from dinner until bedtime.

  The day after Simon and Judith had talked in the library was an exception. Since the weather was fine, the four of them decided it was time to make an all-day excursion to the upland village of Castleton.

  The road wound upward through a wildly romantic gorge called Windgates because of the stream of air that constantly swept down it. Dramatic views of precipices or the Vale of Castleton met the eye at every turn of the road.

  At the top of the gorge, the village clustered at the foot of a peak topped by the looming ruins of a Norman castle. Peak Castle had been very nearly impregnable in its time. Even now, without facing arrows and boiling oil, Antonia knew from experience that the climb up was a taxing one.

  The special lure of Castleton was its caves. There were several in the area, but the best was Peak Cavern in the mountain beneath the castle. The cave was a well-known local landmark, and Simon had been interested in visiting as soon as he learned of it.

  Antonia was less enthused. Though she’d lived in the district all her life, she had never been seized by a desire to go underground. But doubtless it would be interesting, and she was eager to participate in anything that would please Simon.

  After a pleasant lunch at the village inn, they engaged a local guide to take them into the bowels of the earth. At the cavern, where a fast-flowing stream led into the dark gaping mouth, Simon surveyed the opening happily. “The action of water on limestone is what cuts the cavern from living rock,” he informed his companions. “The stone slowly melts away.”

  “Fascinating,” Judith said with a happy smile of anticipation. “I’ve always wanted to visit a cave, but have never had the chance. Have you been in many?”

  Before Simon could answer, the wiry guide decided it was time to assert his authority. The cavern, he informed them portentously, went more than half a mile into the mountain. Many and wonderful were the galleries and chambers within, but the tour was not without danger. They must stay near the guide; the ladies in particular must be careful of their footing.

  After speaking, he lit three torches, giving two to Adam and Simon and keeping the last for himself.

  Antonia eyed the entrance to the cave with distaste, reluctant to leave the sunshine. It could not be too dangerous, or there would not be so many visitors. Nonetheless, she had to force herself to enter.

  The guide led, followed by Judith, Simon, and Antonia, with Adam bringing up the rear. After crossing a wide area that had once been used as a workshop by rope makers, they squeezed through a tight passage that emerged in an enormous chamber.

  The ceiling arched high above their heads, blackened by the soot of centuries of torches. The lights they carried were a feeble defense against the smothering dark. “Welcome to the Devil’s Cavern,” the guide said, his voice pitched to echo hollowly from the stone walls.

  Judith turned in a slow circle, her dark head tilted back as she examined her surroundings with awe. “What a remarkable sight!”

  “In India, they would have put a temple here,” Adam said, his deep voice behind Antonia.

  “This is a splendid cave,” Simon agreed as he lifted his torch and explored the chamber, kneeling to peer into the water, his long fingers testing the damp texture of the walls. In the flickering light, he looked even more handsome and romantic than usual as he spoke learnedly of stalactites and stalagmites.

  While Adam and Judith discussed their surroundings, Antonia tried to focus on how handsome Simon looked and what a lucky woman she was. But the farther they penetrated into the depths, the more distressed she became. She felt the dead weight of countless tons of stone hanging above her, a nearly tangible pressure that constricted her lungs like a band of iron.

  They continued single file along a narrow path by the stream. The air was damp and very cold.

  Antonia shivered, chilled even through her heavy riding habit. The wet rock beneath her feet was slippery so she picked her way carefully over the treacherous surface, the skirts of her habit clenched in her rigid fingers. The pulse pounding in her temples threatened to drown out the sounds of footsteps and trickling water.

  In the chamber called Roger’s Rain House, water flowed continuously down the walls in a glimmering sheet. Antonia tried to join the other members of the party in appreciation, but fear was mounting in her, choking her breath.

  This is ridiculous, she told herself fiercely. People hav
e been coming down here for centuries. It’s perfectly safe.

  The guide warned in a sepulchral voice, “Mind your heads. It’s a low passage to the Orchestral Chamber.” A faintly accusing note was heard. “If your lordship had given more notice, a choir could have been procured to sing in the chamber. The sound is most remarkable.”

  Simon chuckled as he ducked down to follow the guide to the next chamber.

  As he disappeared, Antonia stared at the narrow opening and knew that not for love, nor money, nor eternal life could she make herself enter that passage. Her heart pounded as if trying to escape her breast, and she felt perspiration on her face and hands even as she shivered with the cold.

  About to enter the aperture, Judith glanced back at her employer with concern. “Are you coming?”

  Antonia tried to answer but could not make her voice work. On the verge of hysteria, she raised one hand to her mouth, knowing that if she were capable of speech she would begin screaming.

  A sharp question from Adam penetrated her rising panic. “Tony, is something wrong?”

  Instinctively she turned to her cousin. Recognizing the mute appeal on her face, Adam closed the distance between them and wrapped his free arm around her.

  Antonia clung to him. Her breathing was still fast and shallow but she knew she had found a secure haven in a precarious world.

  “Don’t worry, Tony, we’ll go outside now.” Adam’s deep voice was infinitely soothing. “You’ll be fine as soon as we leave the cave.”

  She swallowed and tried to speak evenly. “Don’t let my foolishness spoil this for you.” Her voice cracked on the last words. She slid her arms around Adam’s muscular body, hoping his warmth would thaw some of her bone deep chill.

  He ignored her protest, his arm tightening protectively around her. “Judith, you go on. I’ll take Antonia outdoors.”

  Her voice worried, Judith said, “I’ll go with you.”

  Antonia was pressed so close to her cousin that she felt the vibration of his reply against her cheek. “No, Simon and the guide need to know that we have left, not wandered into a side passage and broken our necks. As Tony said, there is no need for you to leave when you are enjoying the tour.”

  After a doubtful moment, Judith accepted his suggestion and ducked her head to enter the passage.

  In the distance the amplified voices of Simon and the guide could be heard, but Antonia ignored them. All that mattered was the reality of Adam’s arm around her as they retraced their steps through the cavern, his comforting flow of words that anchored her to sanity. The torchlight caused grotesque shadows to swirl and dart around them, but with Adam she was safe.

  His calm strength brought forth half-forgotten memories. There had been other occasions when Adam had held her close like this, protecting her from the demons of the dark. As a child, she had sometimes suffered night terrors, waking up screaming. Her nurse had soon learned that the little ladyship could be most quickly soothed by her baseborn cousin. The servants had found it a most affecting sight.

  It seemed an endless journey, but finally they crossed the antechamber and emerged into the blessed, blessed sunlight. Antonia threw an arm across her eyes at the glare, gulping air deep into lungs that seemed to have expanded tenfold.

  Her panic dissipated with shocking speed. As it did, she began to feel embarrassment at her weakness.

  Adam’s arm was still supporting her, and as her breathing steadied, she looked up into his tanned face. She was so close she could see the fine wrinkles at the corners of his eyes that came from squinting against a tropical sun.

  “You’re all right now.” His words were more statement than question.

  When she nodded, he dropped his arm and stepped away from her, dowsing the torch in a pile of earth by the entrance of the cave.

  She raised a still shaky hand to brush a loose strand of bright hair from her forehead, saying with creditable calm, “I’m perfectly well. I can’t imagine what came over me.” She glanced back at the mouth of the cave, then quickly turned away, unable to suppress a shiver. “I feel a complete fool, having the vapors when there was nothing to be afraid of.”

  Adam’s gray-green eyes studied her narrowly before he nodded, satisfied with her recovery. “Let’s take a walk. The village is so small that our companions will have no trouble finding us when they are through.”

  Antonia took his arm and they began walking toward the village green. Adam said, “No need to castigate yourself for foolishness. If it will make you feel better, there’s a name for what you experienced.”

  “Really?” Antonia glanced at her cousin in surprise. Already her fear had an unreal, dreamlike quality.

  “It’s called phobia, from the Greek word for fear, and it means blind, illogical panic. One can have a phobia about caves, heights, spiders, almost anything. The fact that it’s illogical doesn’t make it any the less real.”

  Antonia mulled his words over. “Do you have a phobia?”

  “Not a really first-rate one like yours,” he said with mock wistfulness, “but I must admit I’m not overfond of caves myself. That’s why I insisted on taking you out. It gave me a perfect excuse to leave.”

  She smiled, sure that Adam had made that up to make her feel better. Well, he had succeeded. “Is there a cure for a phobia?”

  “Stay out of caves,” he said cheerfully.

  “I have every intention of doing so!”

  They entered the village churchyard and Adam glanced up at the square tower. “If I recall the guidebook correctly, there is a fine Norman chancel, an octagonal font, and doubtless other wonders. Shall we go inside and admire them?”

  Antonia wrinkled her nose. “No, thank you. I’ve had enough cool, damp stone places for one day. Let’s just sit in the sun.”

  There was a bench against the south wall, so they sat down together. Antonia leaned against the wall with a sigh of release, letting the sun’s warmth burn away the last of her deathly chill.

  There was no need for talk. They had known each other too long to fear silence. As a child, she had wished for brothers and sisters, but no natural sibling could have been a better brother than Adam.

  Perhaps it was because he had rescued her, as he had so often when they were children, that Antonia let herself admit, “I feel as if I let Simon down.”

  “Why? Because you don’t like caves? He won’t blame you for that.” Adam’s voice was reassuring. “In fact, he will be apologetic for taking you into one.”

  “I think he may be regretting our betrothal,” she blurted out, fixing her gaze on her gold signet ring. It was engraved with the Thornton arms and had been a gift from her father on her eighteenth birthday. The motto said simply Valor. It wasn’t always easy to live up to.

  There was a long pause. She stole a quick glance at Adam. His tawny sun-streaked hair and aura of controlled power reminded her of a lion.

  “Why do you say that?” he asked at length. He was staring straight ahead, his profile expressionless.

  Antonia hesitated, not wanting to detail the host of minor difficulties that were symptoms, not the true problem. “He’s getting more and more remote,” she said finally. “Polite, not passionate. I’m doing something wrong, but I don’t know how to change.”

  She stopped, feeling fear again. Not the irrational panic of the cavern, but a piercing fear of loss that was all too genuine. “Perhaps I should give him his freedom back.”

  She took a deep breath, knowing herself on the verge of tears. “But I can’t, Adam, I can’t. I love him so.” Her voice broke and she bent her head, wishing she was wearing a concealing bonnet rather than a tiny, saucy riding cap.

  Pressing a hand over her eyes, she whispered, “What should I do?”

  She wished he would put his arms around her and offer the same uncomplicated comfort that he had in the cave, but he didn’t.

  “I can’t advise you on something like that. Tony. Only you can know what you must do.” After a long pause, he continued, hi
s words slow and careful. “Very few men are articulate in the language of the heart. The fact that Simon sometimes withdraws into himself doesn’t mean that he doesn’t care about you.”

  Feeling confused and alone, Antonia reached a tentative hand to her cousin. For a moment she feared that he would not respond, but then his strong brown hand enfolded her slim fingers.

  The contact helped immensely. Adam had never let her down, except, perhaps, by leaving England. She said bleakly, “I thought that when I finally fell in love, everything would be magically right.”

  His fingers tightened on hers. “No one ever said that love was easy,” he said, his voice rough. “That doesn’t mean that loving isn’t worth the effort.”

  Antonia closed her eyes, leaning her head against the sun-warmed stone. Odd that she, who considered herself a modern, independent woman, was so much a victim of romantic illusions. On some level, she had really believed that once she met the one right man whom she had been waiting for, she would recognize him instantly and there would be no problems more significant than choosing names for their beautiful healthy children.

  She had recognized the man, all right, but she had certainly been wrong about the other part. Who had said that the course of true love never ran smooth? Shakespeare was a safe guess. The man must never have spoken an unquotable word.

  The thought made her smile faintly. Once again Adam had come to her rescue, as he had so many times before. He was right. No one had ever promised that loving would be easy, but the prize was worth the price. She would simply have to try harder.

  She heard Simon speak her name and opened her eyes to see him swiftly crossing the churchyard, his face concerned. “Are you all right now? Judith said you were a trifle indisposed, but didn’t tell me until we came out just how upsetting you found the cave.”

  At his approach, Adam stood and went to Judith, who was approaching more slowly than Simon.

  Simon knelt on one knee in front of her, catching her hands in his, anxiety on his beautifully molded face. “I knew that caves have that effect on some people, but you are so utterly fearless that it never occurred to me that you would find it disturbing.”