Adam’s words were creating a whole new picture of the past, and now she could better understand what had happened. “Did my father force you to leave England to get you away from me?”
“In a way. He didn’t have me kidnapped, but he demanded that I swear never to see or contact you again. Amusing, isn’t it? In spite of my unworthiness, he was willing to believe that my word was good.’’ Adam smiled humorlessly. “I proposed a bargain. I refused to promise I’d never contact you, but I told him that if he found me a post with the East India Company and gave me the money he had intended to use to buy a commission, I would go to India, and that I would say and write nothing that would interfere with you finding a suitable husband.”
“I see.” Antonia swallowed hard, absorbing that. “That is why your letters were always so resolutely unloverlike?”
Adam nodded. “I could have defied your father, but again he was right. Whatever his reasons for taking me in, I did owe him a great deal. It would have been very shabby to court his only daughter against his wishes.”
He sighed and ran one hand through his light hair, tousling it thoroughly. “There was more to the bargain. I couldn’t do anything about being illegitimate, but I could do something about being penniless. I told your father that I would never ask you to marry me unless I had a fortune equal to yours.
“Spenston found my proposal amusing, knowing that the odds of my achieving my goal before you married elsewhere were infinitesimal. He also supposed that my lowering myself to trade would quash any romantic longings that you might cherish. It was a very safe bargain for him to agree to.”
Antonia voice was hushed. “That is why you worked so hard in India?”
Adam nodded again. “It was the only hope I had. To be a rich baseborn merchant was somewhat better than to be a penniless baseborn soldier. I seized every opportunity to build the small stake I began with. I took risks, always trying the long chance that might pay off spectacularly.” His face tightened. “And whenever I received a letter from you, I wondered if it would contain news of your marriage.”
The magnitude of what he had endured was beyond Antonia’s experience and comprehension. Adam must have suffered agonies, particularly in her first few Seasons, when she was the object of considerable attention. Antonia had written him often, gay little letters about her doings and her suitors, with the unadmitted desire of showing that some men wanted her, even if her cousin didn’t. “So when I wrote you that I was betrothed to Lord Ramsay…?”
“Since you said you were planning an early wedding, I thought you must already be married by the time I received the letter.” Adam’s face was rigid. “I went out and got blind, stinking, paralyzed drunk that night.”
Antonia bit her lip as she imagined how he must have felt. “Adam, I’m so sorry. I had no idea that I was hurting you,” she whispered. “I had long since accepted that there had never been anything romantic between us except for my dreams.” She thought back. “It must have been almost a year until you got the letter saying that I had cried off.”
“Ten months, two weeks, and three days,” he said precisely. “Don’t blame yourself, Tony. How could you know? I was trying very hard to keep my part of the bargain.”
He shrugged. “I survived by becoming philosophical. If, as I tried to believe, we were meant to be together, it would happen if I worked hard enough. The longer you stayed unmarried and the wealthier I became, the more possible it seemed. When I achieved the financial goals I’d set, I came home.”
Adam gave a smile of wintry bleakness. “It seemed a bad omen to find you a baroness. The gap between us was as wide as ever. Then Simon came along, and it appeared that all my efforts were for nothing.”
Antonia gasped. In the drama of her cousin’s story, she had completely forgotten about Lord Launceston’s existence. “Adam, you shouldn’t have said any of this. I’m betrothed to Simon.”
His gaze burned into hers. “Are you in love with him or with me?”
Antonia shrank back against the cupboard, feeling trapped. Adam’s story had brought vividly alive all the love and romantic assumptions she had felt as they grew up together, plus the passion she had discovered so recently.
But she had given her word to Simon. He deserved her loyalty, and she did care for him. “I love you,” she said wretched, “but it would be wicked and dishonorable to cry off from Simon a second time.”
“It would be more wicked to marry him if you love me,” Adam said, his voice implacable. “As Judith reminded me when she broke our betrothal, in the long run it is better to be honest than noble. Simon is my friend and I would do almost anything for him, but I will not politely stand by and let him marry you without a struggle. The decision is yours, Tony. Which one of us do you want?”
Antonia buried her face in her hands. “I don’t know what I want! To marry you seems so selfish.”
“Because it is more virtuous to suffer than to do what you want? Don’t forget, your virtue will condemn me to suffer as well,” Adam pointed out with relentless logic. “I could bear it if you loved another man, but that isn’t what you’re saying.”
She began to shake with silent tears. Too much had happened. Learning of Adam’s love and how much he had endured for her over the years, discovering that her idealized father had had his share of hypocrisy, having to make a choice that must hurt one of the men she cared most about.
Adam was right. Her own guilt was inclining her to make the choice that would punish her, but doing so would punish him as well.
Adam’s dark velvet voice cut through her misery. “You may not know what you want, but I do. Look at me. Tony.”
She raised her head and looked into his intense gray-green eyes as he said, “You want a husband who will hold you at the center of his life. You don’t want a man who will put politics, or gaming, or society, or anything else first.
“Simon may love you, but he loves ideas and the challenges of the mind as well. You will never come first with him in the same way that you do with me. I love you, and I have spent my life proving it.” Adam stretched out his hand to her and said softly, “Come.”
Antonia could feel the force of his will pulling her. She took an involuntary step toward him. While the decision was hers, Adam was exerting all his physical, mental, and emotional power to prove why she should choose him.
She wanted him—dear God, how she wanted him! And Adam, who knew her better than anyone else, was right. She wanted a husband who would put her first, not push her aside like her father and mother had.
The worst thing about Simon was his ability to withdraw into himself, excluding her. She didn’t want a lifetime of frantically wondering if she had done something wrong and must win her way back into her husband’s good graces.
The universe narrowed down to Antonia’s thoughts and Adam’s beckoning gesture. His hand was broad and powerful, the long fingers capable of delicacy as well as strength.
As she stared at his hand with mesmerized longing, Antonia realized that the true reason she had never married was because she wanted a man she could trust to love her always, even in the midst of the disagreements that all couples sometimes experience. Even when the years robbed her of the youthful beauty that men so much admired.
Beyond question and doubt, she knew Adam was offering that kind of love.
And if she was the center of Adam’s life, he was the center of hers. It had always been her cousin whom she trusted and turned to, who had been the touchstone of her existence even when he was half a world away.
If she had known that he loved her as she loved him, they would never have been separated so long. She would have defied her father, would have gladly followed Adam to India.
The honorable reasons for standing by her betrothal to Simon were frail and irrelevant. All that mattered was Adam, who offered love and warmth and protection. Adam, whom she loved.
As Antonia struggled between what she wanted and what she thought she should do, she took another st
ep toward Adam, then one more. Decision made, she flew the remaining distance in a rush of joyous abandon, drawn to Adam as a compass seeks its pole.
Wrapping her arms around his solid strength, she raised her face for a kiss. As their lips met, all doubts disappeared. She and Adam belonged together, two halves of the same whole. She had been blind not to know it sooner.
Adam’s embrace was rib-bruising in its intensity. “Lord, Tony, I love you so much,” he whispered huskily. “I was so afraid that I couldn’t change your mind.”
For a wild sweet interval they were lost in each other as memories, promises, and words of love wove a binding spell around them. But eventually Antonia made herself think of what still lay ahead.
She leaned back in Adam’s arms, tenderly brushing a disordered lock of his oak-colored hair from his forehead. “I had best find Simon.” Her smile was unsteady. “I’m not quite sure how to explain that I’m jilting him a second time.”
“You’ve had ample experience.” Adam’s tan skin crinkled around his eyes as he tried to tease a smile from her. “You’ve been betrothed to Lord Ramsay, Simon, and me in my amnesiac stage, and broken off from all of us.”
Antonia laughed a little. “Does this mean I’m about to be betrothed for the fifth time?”
“No,” Adam said firmly, linking his arms around her slim waist. “No more betrothals. We will simply get married, and as soon as possible.”
She laid her head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart, reluctant to leave his sheltering embrace for the difficulties that lay outside the stillroom. The worst would be confronting Simon.
Though not as painful, there would also be the incredulous and disapproving relatives and the members of the ton. Lady Antonia Thornton, Baroness Fairbourne in her own right, was going to be judged a total, fickle idiot.
Antonia didn’t care. As she settled back into Adam’s embrace, she knew that no amount of gossip or censure could make her regret her decision.
Then reality intruded. The door to the stillroom opened, and Antonia looked past Adam’s shoulder into the startled blue eyes of Simon Launceston.
Chapter Fourteen
Antonia’s gasp of alarm alerted Adam. He turned to see Lord Launceston standing motionless in the doorway, his chiseled countenance like stone as he saw his affianced wife in the embrace of his best friend.
“May I ask the meaning of this?” Simon’s voice as expressionless as his face.
Adam slid a protective arm around Antonia’s waist. “Until half an hour ago, there was nothing going on behind your back,” he said steadily. “Direct your anger at me. I was the one who undertook to change my cousin’s mind, and it was not attempted or accomplished lightly. Tony was about to seek you out to end your betrothal. I’m sorry that you had to find out this way.”
Simon’s searching blue gaze turned to Antonia. “You wish to marry Adam?”
She nodded, biting her lip. “Yes. I know that I am behaving despicably, but…Adam and I belong together.”
“Does Judith know yet?” Simon’s soft tenor was edged.
Adam’s eyes narrowed speculatively. Lord Launceston had been startled and taken aback to find Adam and Antonia together, but there were no signs of anguish or fury. He seemed far more concerned about the effect on Judith. “She cried off from our betrothal last night, saying that all of us were mired in confusion and dishonesty. Because of what she said, I realized that I must declare myself to Tony.”
“That explains a great deal,” Simon said slowly, his thoughts turned inward for a moment. Then he gave a self-mocking smile.
“I really should make a dramatic exit now, but I had an important reason for coming here. A few minutes ago I inquired after Judith, thinking she might be interested in seeing how a telescope is assembled. The butler said she ordered a carriage for five o’clock this morning and left with considerable baggage. At my request, a maid went to Judith’s room and found this.”
He held out a sealed envelope to Antonia. “Mrs. Heaver said you might be in the stillroom, so I brought this down since it is addressed to you.”
Surprised, Antonia took the envelope and tore it open. She scanned the enclosed sheet, then she sucked in her breath. “Judith has left Thornleigh and is going to America.”
“What!” Manners for once forgotten, Simon grabbed the note and read it himself. He looked up, his face pale, his eyes seeking Adam’s. “What happened? Why would she leave so abruptly and go so far?”
“I’m not sure. Judith gave me no inkling of her plans.” He thought back to what had happened. “She said the reason she and I had decided to marry in the first place was because we were both settling for what we could get rather than what we really wanted. She had guessed that I loved Antonia. By implication, she may have meant that she also was in love with someone else.”
His mouth quirked wryly. “You might know more about that than I.”
There was a flash of emotion in Simon’s deep blue eyes before he turned and wordlessly headed toward the door.
“Where are you going?” Antonia asked, more than a little confused.
“After Judith, of course,” Simon flung over his shoulder.
“Wait!” Adam’s voice commanded. When his friend stopped, Adam asked, “Are you in love with her?”
“Yes, but I never said so because of the prior engagement between you and her.” Simon gave Antonia a rueful glance. “I can hardly accuse you of fickleness when I was behaving much the same way myself.”
“Thank heaven,” Antonia said, crossing the room to throw her arms around Simon in a spontaneous hug. “You have just done wonders for my guilty conscience. It had occurred to me more than once that you and Judith would suit admirably. Is she in love with you as well?”
Simon glanced at the letter he still had clenched in his hand. “I have no idea,” he said bleakly. “Judith never gave me any reason to believe that she returned my feelings. I don’t find this promising.”
“I think you’re wrong,” Adam said. “Judith was convinced that you and I were both in love with Tony. Believing that, she may have left because staying near you would have been too painful.”
“I hope you’re right,” Lord Launceston said, a grim cast to his handsome face. “I’m going to ask her to marry me, even if I have to follow her to America.’’
“Don’t go running off blindly!” Antonia exclaimed. “If we can deduce where she’s going, we can find her more quickly.”
“You’re right,” Simon admitted, shaking his dark head distractedly. “I…I’m not thinking clearly.”
Adam and Antonia exchanged glances. It must be love to interfere with Lord Launceston’s usually admirable thinking processes.
“Adam, you’re the expert on shipping. Where would she be most likely to go?” Simon asked.
“Liverpool,” Adam said instantly. “It’s much closer than Bristol, and these days it handles the majority of the North Atlantic trade. But we had best hurry.”
“We?” Simon asked, bemused.
“Of course. You’re going to need help looking for her.” Adam glanced at Antonia and got a confirming nod. “Neither Tony nor I will be able to relax and plan for the future until this tangle is sorted out. Nothing could make either of us happier than seeing you and Judith together.”
“What if I find Judith and she refuses me?” Simon said with another bleak glance at the letter in his hand.
“She won’t,” Antonia said with utter confidence. “I promise you that.’’ Only a woman who was loved by Adam Yorke would be fool enough to turn down Simon Launceston.
* * * *
The sails unfurled, the heavy canvas snapping as it began to catch the wind. Judith wondered if she would ever see her native land again. Her fingers tightened around the railing until her knuckles were white.
Perhaps it had been wrong to choose to run so far away. She had never felt more English than now, when she was leaving everything she had ever known.
Shu
ddering, Judith pulled her shawl around her shoulders, thinking how cool the wind was over the water. She had been fortunate to catch the Lady Liberty. The next Boston-bound ship wouldn’t leave for over a week. If she’d had to wait that long, she might have been mad enough to return to Thornleigh. She wondered if matters had been resolved between Antonia and her two suitors, and which of the people Judith loved was hurting now.
Someone came to join her at the railing. “We’re on our way at last,” a buoyant voice said. “I’ve seen enough of the old country, let me tell you. I can’t wait to get back to Boston.”
Judith glanced at Mrs. Maxwell, with whom she was sharing a tiny cabin. The plump, rosy older woman was an American widow returning home after a once-in-a-lifetime visit to British relatives. She was a pleasant creature, if a trifle over-exuberant. “You’ll have to see Belfast first,” Judith remarked.
“Only for a day,” her cabin mate said cheerfully. “Then it’s home again. I wonder if my youngest grandchild will remember me. My daughter and her husband thought I was quite mad to travel so far alone. But I say, seeing another country makes you appreciate your own more.”
Mrs. Maxwell said quite a lot of things, Judith thought with amusement. But she was a good-natured woman and clearly prosperous. Perhaps she could help Judith find a situation in Boston.
“You won’t regret emigrating to America, Mrs. Winslow. It’s a country for people who dare to dream,” the older woman went on. “Not like England, with so many musty rules to squeeze the life out of a body.” She stopped abruptly, an apologetic expression on her round face. “No offense meant.”
Judith couldn’t help smiling. “None taken.”
It was impossible to take umbrage at such innocent criticism, though she couldn’t help wondering if all Americans were so friendly and outspoken. If they were, she might find the New World a bit overpowering.
Her brief smile faded. The only dream she had ever had was to marry Simon Launceston. She turned her gaze back to the shore, where the bustling docks were already too distant for detail.