Free Carousel of Hearts by Mary Jo Putney Page B

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