her home. He was overwhelmed by her generosity.
At the same time he felt intensely guilty that she had done such a thing while he was suffering doubts. Worse, he hadn’t even thought to buy her a wedding gift.
“ I specifically told you not to buy a telescope.’’ Guilt made his voice sharp. “You should not have done it.”
“This is supposed to be a very fine instrument. Indeed, it was built by Herschel himself before he stopped manufacturing them.’’ Her lovely face had changed from excitement to anxiety. “Would you prefer a refraction telescope? I was told that even the best of that type suffer from optical distortion.”
Under other conditions Simon would have been impressed at how much she had learned about telescopes. Now the evidence of her desire to please him was a spur to his guilt.
He stared at her helplessly. “It’s too much, Antonia. Everything has been too much, too fast.”
She froze, her slim body rigid, as if she sensed that he was talking about more than the telescope. “What do you mean?”
“We have known each other only a few weeks, and in another few days we intend to marry. It has all been too sudden.’’
“How can love be too sudden?” Her creamy skin had turned ash-pale. “Or do you mean that you have just realized that it was all a foolish mistake and that you don’t really love me, after all?”
“That’s not what I said.’’ Simon took a step toward her, then stopped when she retreated an equal distance. “I do love you, but we have not taken the time to really know each other. Marriage is for a lifetime, and we are rushing in too quickly. I think we should postpone the wedding for several months.”
“Why don’t you just admit that you don’t want to marry me?” she cried, an edge of hysteria in her voice.
Simon sought desperately for words that she would believe, cursing his clumsiness. “I do want to marry you, but you know how tense we’ve been with each other. How we’ve been making each other unhappy. I think that much of the problem is the speed of events. With the wedding so close, everything we do or say takes on added weight and we end up at odds with each other. We must take the time to learn how to be comfortable.”
Antonia just stared at him, her eyes wide and stark. Thinking that she was concerned with what people would say, he offered, “Very few people even know about the betrothal, so postponing the ceremony should occasion no embarrassment.”
“I don’t care what other people think!” she retorted. “What matters is how you feel. If you really loved me, you could not be saying such things. If after several months there are still problems, would you wish to marry?”
Simon had known this discussion would be difficult, but he had not dreamed how painful it would be. The thought of losing Antonia, with her gifts of beauty and laughter, was intolerable. And yet ... “Do you think that it would be wise to marry if we are making each other miserable?”
“What kind of love fears to take the pain along with the joy?” She was trembling with the force of her emotions. “The future is always a gamble, and waiting six months ‘to get to know each other better’ won’t guarantee happiness.”
There was some logic to her words, yet Simon knew that he was right too. “Of course there are no guarantees, but even if life is a gamble, we can improve the odds of happiness by being sensible—”
She interrupted him. “How can one be ‘sensible’ about love? I am not a theorem or a stone or a star. I am a woman, and I need to be loved.”
As tears welled up, she angrily dragged the back of her hand across her eyes. “Very well, I will be sensible. Clearly our notions of what constitutes marriage are incompatible and we will not suit. Therefore, I release you from the engagement you so foolishly entered into. Since you did not care enough to even notify the newspapers, you are spared the effort of writing a
At the same time he felt intensely guilty that she had done such a thing while he was suffering doubts. Worse, he hadn’t even thought to buy her a wedding gift.
“ I specifically told you not to buy a telescope.’’ Guilt made his voice sharp. “You should not have done it.”
“This is supposed to be a very fine instrument. Indeed, it was built by Herschel himself before he stopped manufacturing them.’’ Her lovely face had changed from excitement to anxiety. “Would you prefer a refraction telescope? I was told that even the best of that type suffer from optical distortion.”
Under other conditions Simon would have been impressed at how much she had learned about telescopes. Now the evidence of her desire to please him was a spur to his guilt.
He stared at her helplessly. “It’s too much, Antonia. Everything has been too much, too fast.”
She froze, her slim body rigid, as if she sensed that he was talking about more than the telescope. “What do you mean?”
“We have known each other only a few weeks, and in another few days we intend to marry. It has all been too sudden.’’
“How can love be too sudden?” Her creamy skin had turned ash-pale. “Or do you mean that you have just realized that it was all a foolish mistake and that you don’t really love me, after all?”
“That’s not what I said.’’ Simon took a step toward her, then stopped when she retreated an equal distance. “I do love you, but we have not taken the time to really know each other. Marriage is for a lifetime, and we are rushing in too quickly. I think we should postpone the wedding for several months.”
“Why don’t you just admit that you don’t want to marry me?” she cried, an edge of hysteria in her voice.
Simon sought desperately for words that she would believe, cursing his clumsiness. “I do want to marry you, but you know how tense we’ve been with each other. How we’ve been making each other unhappy. I think that much of the problem is the speed of events. With the wedding so close, everything we do or say takes on added weight and we end up at odds with each other. We must take the time to learn how to be comfortable.”
Antonia just stared at him, her eyes wide and stark. Thinking that she was concerned with what people would say, he offered, “Very few people even know about the betrothal, so postponing the ceremony should occasion no embarrassment.”
“I don’t care what other people think!” she retorted. “What matters is how you feel. If you really loved me, you could not be saying such things. If after several months there are still problems, would you wish to marry?”
Simon had known this discussion would be difficult, but he had not dreamed how painful it would be. The thought of losing Antonia, with her gifts of beauty and laughter, was intolerable. And yet ... “Do you think that it would be wise to marry if we are making each other miserable?”
“What kind of love fears to take the pain along with the joy?” She was trembling with the force of her emotions. “The future is always a gamble, and waiting six months ‘to get to know each other better’ won’t guarantee happiness.”
There was some logic to her words, yet Simon knew that he was right too. “Of course there are no guarantees, but even if life is a gamble, we can improve the odds of happiness by being sensible—”
She interrupted him. “How can one be ‘sensible’ about love? I am not a theorem or a stone or a star. I am a woman, and I need to be loved.”
As tears welled up, she angrily dragged the back of her hand across her eyes. “Very well, I will be sensible. Clearly our notions of what constitutes marriage are incompatible and we will not suit. Therefore, I release you from the engagement you so foolishly entered into. Since you did not care enough to even notify the newspapers, you are spared the effort of writing a
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