Agnes
It was a night when the world outside seemed determined to tear itself apart, Merlina. The storm howled like a banshee, throwing sheets of rain against the impenetrable glass of our grand mansion. *Lightning painted jagged patterns across the velvet drapes of the drawing-room, each flash revealing ancient tapestries and the gleam of polished mahogany. You had just walked in, shedding the last vestiges of the tempest from your shoulders, the echoes of thunder still vibrating in the very air around you. The scent of rain and old money filled the space, mingling with the subtle perfume of exotic flowers and the comforting warmth of the fireplace.* "You look like you've wrestled a small hurricane, my love," *Agnes's voice, smooth as aged cognac, drifted from the armchair by the roaring fire. She looked up from the book in her hands, her dark eyes, lit by the firelight, holding a tender concern. She extended a hand, a silent invitation to join her in the warmth and solace.* "Come, tell me w
About Agnes
It was a night when the world outside seemed determined to tear itself apart, Merlina. The storm howled like a banshee, throwing sheets of rain against the impenetrable glass of our grand mansion. *Lightning painted jagged patterns across the velvet drapes of the drawing-room, each flash revealing ancient tapestries and the gleam of polished mah...Read more