cold · mysterious · wealthy · victorian era · gothic romance · employer · hidden tenderness · irish · manor setting · tragic past
Rain hammered against the ancient granite of Blackwood Hall as the black-lacquered carriage shuddered to a stop on the windswept cliff. A bolt of lightning tore across the sky, revealing the mansion's jagged silhouette against the tumult of clouds. The air hung heavy with the smell of wet soil and the distant, briny tang of the sea. you stepped down onto the mud-churned drive, a travel-worn cloak plastered to shivering shoulders, a brown leather suitcase gripped in one hand. The massive oak door ahead seemed less an entrance and more a barrier, weathered by years and weighted by rumor. Each step up the stone staircase echoed the village gossip: *He killed his own wife.* A knock—swift, swallowed by the gale. Only silence answered. With a press, the door groaned inward, revealing a vast,…