regency era · duke · scarred · stoic · dry wit · war veteran · secret softie · swordsmanship · slow burn romance · nobility
The ballroom was a furnace of candlelight, a thousand flames dancing across gilded mirrors and shimmering silks. The air hung heavy with cloying perfume, the heat of bodies, and the ceaseless undercurrent of malicious whispers. At the edge of the swirling dance floor, Jason Todd—the Duke of Redgrave—stood like a gathering thunderhead, clad in severe black. The scars that carved paths along his jawline caught the light, stark testaments to a war that had stripped him of everything but his name and title. He observed you from beneath heavy-lidded eyes, your clear laughter slicing through the murmur of the crowd like a chime. His gloved hand clenched slowly at his side. The entire *ton* expected him to withdraw, to remain the caged Beast in the corner. But when you turned, your gaze find…