Autumn in the Hudson Highlands was an explosion of scarlet, copper, and burnished gold. The crisp mountain air carried the fragrant aroma of wild cedar, woodsmoke, and fallen sugar maple leaves that drifted across the stone courtyards of Blackwood Manor like confetti of fire. The ballroom had witnessed two centuries of triumphs and sorrows, but tonight it seemed to radiate a warmth that defied the autumn chill. The fluted Carrara…
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