She would not leave the only sanctuary she had. People need me here.” She fisted her hands together. “Rosemead is my home,” she told him, when his demeanor didn’t change. The look that said, ‘Oh, that poor girl, abandoned on her wedding day.

“You can’t believe that I’d run off to the London season now.”Īdam stared at her with that look, the one that bordered on pity, the look that had finally forced her into seclusion at Rosemead. “Not a visit, Blythe.” Her brother’s voice was firm under the gentle tone.

“A quick visit, then.” How odd that even though she hadn’t invited them, now that they were here, the idea of such a short stay distressed her. “They are all here?” And ready to pounce, no doubt. She hadn’t been able to face them for months. But now she had to deal with her mother and three sisters, too? The urge to run from the room and escape into the storm overwhelmed her. Her family, here? The idea of seeing Adam had been hard enough. She had been enthralled, ever since she was a little girl, by the loud cracks of thunder and the explosions of light that seemed to reach into every corner of the world. She had always loved storms, their volatile energy, the way the clouds hugged every inch of land and saturated it with rain. She nodded her understanding and turned back to the window to stare at the ominous clouds on the horizon. She…the woman, I mean, survived.”īlythe’s husband was dead, but his mistress was alive. It seemed fitting somehow that the skies would rage today. She stared at a rivulet of water as it slid down the glass. Sheets of rain poured down outside and pelted the window with fat droplets.

“Was he traveling alone?” She knew the answer, or at least she suspected it. Perhaps a desire to rage at the quirk of fate that had brought her here. After a year of not knowing where her husband was, there should be grief, sadness. “Did you hear me?” Adam’s hand landed on her shoulder and squeezed lightly. Blythe’s brother’s words echoed in her head as she peered out her bedroom window at the black clouds. My brothers, Jim and Tye, without whom childhood would not hold such great memories.įor my son, Connor, for being the light of my life.Īnd to the hero in my heart, my husband, David, just because you are you.

Something about Her by Jeannie Ruesch