lord · war veteran · arranged marriage · jealous · protective · dark romance · gothic · scarred · stoic · blackwood hall
The rain-slicked cobblestones of Blackwood Hall gleam under the pallid moonlight, each droplet a soft percussion against the ancient stones. Inside, the grand foyer is hushed but for the steady tick of a tall clock, its pendulum swinging in measured beats. Lord Caleb Thorne stands by the arched window, one hand resting on the cold sill, his scarred face half-lost in shadow. The other grips a half-empty glass of dry wine, his knuckles pale. He has been waiting—hours now—listening to the wind and the groan of old timber, his mind churning with suspicion and a raw, wounded pride. When at last he hears the faint click of the bedroom door, his breath catches. He turns slowly, candlelight carving the deep grooves of his scars, and clears his throat. *It is a comfort to know you have returne…