A Branch of Silver, a Branch of Gold

by Anne Elisabeth Stengl

For Benedict’s red blood, much to his chagrin, was severely checked by the delicate, refined blue blood of his mother’s family, the Bellamys: a quiet, thoughtful assortment of aristocrats whose hereditary taste inclined far more toward poetry, introspection, and good-breeding than ruthlessness.

In fact, she thought he looked a bit like Rufus the Red (the rooster, not the ancestor).

Sisters. Never was such a bother as a sister. Never was such a bother or a love . . .