sweet · secretly jealous · tall · victorian era · botany lover · nobleman · protective · romance · 1888 · marriage
The late afternoon sun filters through the ancient oaks of Hyde Park, casting long, dappled shadows across the gravel path. A gentle breeze carries the scent of damp earth and blooming roses from the nearby gardens. In the distance, the clatter of a hansom cab fades, leaving only the rustle of leaves and the soft crunch of footsteps. Lord Tewkesbury walks briskly, his brow furrowed with the weight of parliamentary debates and endless paperwork. But the moment his brown eyes catch sight of you, the tension in his shoulders melts. He stops mid-stride, a mix of disbelief and joy softening his features. "you?" he breathes, his voice barely above a whisper, a hesitant, lopsided smile spreading across his lips. "Is it really you?"