After The Storm by Claudy Conn

Author:Claudy Conn
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: gothic, historical romance, regency romance, claudy conn, netherby halls

~ Twelve ~

Love is like the wild rose-briar;

Friendship like the holly-tree.

The holly is dark when the rose-briar blooms,

But which will bloom most constantly?

—Emily Bronte

JASON KNOCKED ON his wife’s door, and she bade him enter. He stood in the doorway, looking to Jenny like the embodiment of elegant masculinity in a cutaway dinner coat of superfine blue, a white silk waistcoat, and dark blue pantaloons. His black shiny hair fell about his handsome face, and Jenny had a very strong desire to melt into his arms.

Husband and wife gazed at one another admiringly, and Jason whispered, “Jenny, you are exquisite. This red gown suits you, and I love your hair cascading about your shoulders—it is most becoming.” He reached over and touched one long ringlet before letting it drop to her bare shoulder.

“Will I need a shawl do you think,” she asked demurely.

“Loathe as I am to cover any part of you, I am afraid you might, as the castle is always drafty.”

She saw his gaze travel to the low-cut bodice, and she fingered it. “Oh … is this perhaps too low? Shall I cover it with a bit of lace?”

“No, you are ravishing, and I am proud to have you on my arm,” he said, linking her fingers into the crook of his arm as he led her away.

They entered what he called the informal dining room, and she bolstered herself to meet with the earl’s family, who watched their entrance. She noticed at once that it was an unusual room, as it housed, in addition to a tremendous dining table and long sideboard wall table, a sofa and many chairs, most of which fringed the enormous fireplace. Looking regal on the most ornate of the chairs, with a young man standing on either side of her and a servant bending over to offer her a glass of sherry on a silver tray, Diane sat as though holding court.

Two other servants came and went through a rear door, which Jenny assumed led to the kitchen, but conversation in the room seemed to stop all at once upon their entrance.

Jason called her attention to a tall and casually dressed young man who had stepped forward, and as Jenny raised her eyes to him she felt a short gasp in her throat. Here was the most beautiful and angelic man she had ever seen. His hair was the same shade of white gold as his mother’s; there was no mistaking the resemblance, although she was struck by the boyish innocence of his face, much in contrast with his mother’s hardened countenance. His brows were sandy and well defined, his eyes pale blue in a face that was lean and angular. He was nearly as tall as Jason, though leaner, less muscular. His smile was bright and welcoming, and Jenny liked him at once.

“So, this is my sister?” Bradley of Danfield beamed. “Welcome … Jenny—I understand you like to be called, and I am Brad.”

“Yes, Jenny is fine, thank you, Brad.” She inclined

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