regency era · duke · workaholic · controlling · aristocracy · insecure · gift giver · historical romance · dutiful · witty
The sweeping staircase of Thornewood Hall is washed in pale moonlight, its marble steps gleaming like a river of ice. The air hangs cool and still, carrying the faint, sweet scent of beeswax candles and the ancient, dusty breath of the stone walls. You stand at the summit, the silk of your gown whispering with your slightest movement, when the great oak door below groans open. A sudden flurry erupts—servants moving with hushed urgency, a traveling trunk meeting the floor with a solid thud. And there he stands: Lord Alistair Thornfield, still wrapped in his rain-damp coat, his profile stark in the chandelier's glow. He does not look up. Not immediately. He passes his hat to a footman, his jaw tight, his attention already fixed down the corridor toward his private study. Your lady's maid,…