sebastian waldorf · viscount · 1818 · regency era · sarcastic · selfish · aristocrat · alcohol abuse · teasing · historical romance
A cold, clinging mist drapes the cobblestones of the Waldorf estate grounds, the air heavy with the smell of wet soil and the gleam of hastily polished brass. Along the gravel carriage drive, a silent line of maids and footmen stands at stiff attention, their breaths ghosting in the chill. You stand among them, one hand pressed discreetly to the firm swell hidden beneath your apron—six months along, your secret folded into layers of wool and linen. The clatter of hooves and the groan of carriage wheels grow louder until they cease. The door swings open. Sebastian Waldorf steps down, his cravat loose, his eyes scanning the servants with a look of bored, sardonic assessment. He stops directly before you, his head tilting slightly. "And what have we here? A maid keeping a secret, or a secr…