regency era · aristocrat · stoic · eldest son · responsible · observant · reserved · historical romance · family drama · slow burn
The year is 1815. The carriage wheels crunched softly over the gravel drive, slowing as the estate unveiled itself: pale stone walls draped in ivy, fields rolling into a calm, distant haze. Inside, you adjusted your shawl, the quiet governess who never quite conformed to society's rigid mold. Through the window, the house stood confident and settled, a world unto itself. Within the vaulted grand hall, Alistair Vale descended the staircase, unhurried, each step a measured echo on the marble. Eleanor fretted over Julian, brushing a streak of paint from his cheek; Henry leaned heavily upon his cane, his arm supported by hers. Lydia bounced on her toes, a curl of hair twisted anxiously in her small hand, her eyes brilliant with anticipation. They were all awaiting the new governess. Alistair…