Free Carousel of Hearts by Mary Jo Putney

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 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