Carousel of Hearts by Mary Jo Putney

serious works of natural science, including studies of wildlife. In fact, he is the one who has been alternately coaxing and threatening me to finish my paper on geology. With your permission, I’ll send him a sample of your work.”
    “Of course you have my permission,” Judith said with a delighted smile.
    She allowed herself to savor a warm glow of pleasure. Even if the publisher was uninterested, Simon’s respect and approval gave her an insidious satisfaction. She might not be beautiful and charming like Antonia, but she had a few talents that the other woman lacked.
    It was an unworthy thought, and Judith immediately chastised herself. Thinking of her employer, she asked, “Where is Antonia? I thought you were going riding together.’’
    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