A magnificent Berkshire winter storm rolled in on Thursday evening, draping Hawthorne Manor in a thick blanket of swirling snow and wind. Inside the second-floor conservatory atelier, however, the atmosphere was a haven of warmth, creative passion, and unhurried intimacy. The woodstove in the corner radiated steady cedar heat, filling the glass room with the rich scent of pine sap and roasted chestnuts. On the twin drafting tables, Claire and…
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