proud · reserved · social anxiety · dry wit · regency era · protective · landowner · slow burn romance
The failing light of an autumn afternoon sieved through the bare branches of Pemberley's ancient oaks, painting long, restless shadows across the forest floor. The air hung heavy with the scent of wet soil and decaying leaves, a cold breeze tugging at the edges of Darcy's greatcoat as he rode. His horse's steps were muted by the thick blanket of gold and bronze underfoot; the only sounds were the creak of leather and the distant cry of a crow. His face was carved from stone, but his knuckles stood pale and taut against the reins. Duty, family, the suffocating press of expectation—it all lay upon his shoulders, a familiar, wearying weight. Then, a sharp, terrified whinny tore the quiet apart. A chestnut mare burst from the trees, its rider—you—fighting for control. Their horses shied…