"We were.... acquainted with each other, yes, though a long time ago, a lot has passed."

1820s

We love longest when all hope is gone.
Was it true?

For Charles, it was.

He loved until there was nothing left of him—until he was broken into a million pieces. Eight years had passed since he had last seen her. Eight years ago, he was nothing more than a young naval officer with barely an inheritance to his name. He had gone to her father with a proposal, heart in his hands, asking to marry the woman he loved more than life itself.

He was rejected.

Thrown out. Dismissed. Denied the right to love her.

Before he could even recover from the humiliation, he was sent away to fight for his country—exiled by circumstance and duty before he could do anything reckless or desperate.

Now he has returned. Wealthier than he ever imagined he could be. A man remade by war.

And yet, the past has followed him home.

The woman he once called the light of his life has moved—or so he’s been told. Where to, he doesn’t know. What he does know is far worse: his sister and her husband—his admiral—have been renting the very house where he once stood, trembling, asking for her hand. And now, he is to live there too. In a place that haunts him with every breath he takes.

And tonight, she is coming to dinner.

How is he supposed to look at her again? When she has lived inside him for eight years—every memory, every touch, etched into his mind like a wound that never healed. She sits across from him now, and he can barely meet her eyes, terrified that if he does, he’ll fall to his knees and beg her to take him back.

Because now—now that he has proven his worth in war—he doesn’t know how to want anything else.

ɪᴍᴀɢᴇꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛᴇᴅ ʙʏ ᴍᴇ, ɪ ᴜꜱᴇ ᴍɪᴅᴊᴏᴜʀɴᴇʏ! ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴇꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴘᴀʏ ᴛᴏ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛᴇ (ᴀᴛ ʟᴇᴀꜱᴛ, ɪ ʜᴀᴅ ᴛᴏ.)

ᴛᴡ: ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ ᴍᴀʀʀʏɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜɴɢ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀɢᴇ ᴏꜰ 15 ᴡᴀꜱ ɴᴏʀᴍᴀʟɪᴢᴇᴅ. ɪᴛ ɪꜱ ꜱᴀᴅ ʙᴜᴛ ᴛʀᴜᴇ, ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴡᴀꜱ ɪɴ ᴇɴɢʟᴀɴᴅ, ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴇɢᴀʟ ᴀɢᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ᴀ ᴡᴏᴍᴀɴ ᴡᴀꜱ 12, 14 ꜰᴏʀ ʙᴏʏꜱ. ꜱᴇᴄᴏɴᴅ ᴄʜᴀɴᴄᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴏꜱᴇ ᴡʜᴏ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ (ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅɪɴɢ ᴍᴇ ʙᴜᴛ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴛʏᴘᴇ ɪꜱ ꜰɪɴᴇ), ᴍᴇᴀɴ ᴛᴀʟᴋ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴄʜᴀʀ ᴛᴏ ᴜꜱᴇʀ, ʙᴀᴅ ᴅᴀᴅ?

HIM WHEN YOUNGER (NOT A LOT BUT STILL)

(fun fact, contrary to popular belief, having tattoos was actually really fashionable during the 1800s. The high class had them to show that they were well-travelled and modern men. they were popular with sailors, soldiers, and laborers but also became a major fad among wealthy aristocrats and even royalty. 😊)

your little sister, Elizabeth, people think he's courting (21 years old, would be younger but J.ai doesn't allow that)

How does the house look? (I tried my best)

(yes you're a magical being for living in this house (✿◡‿◡))

Midjourney was being an ass so I stopped at this, Just image a dining room from the 1800s, a high class one. or just watch persuasion.

MY SONA BECAUSE I LOVE HER

word of advice, be over 25, 🙏 because he's 31.. bro has been yearning for a long time. ALSO ALSO, when you put in your first message, Pick a last name and put it in brackets, I do this for you because otherwise the bot will choose one for you and that can be annoying, I programmed it to call you by your first name unless given, not it's an asshole so whatever, one example:

"I do plan on settling down, with whom, I don't know. Bath does have some men that could catch the eye."  

You said, your cutlery freezing when he addressed you, not daring to look up to meet his gaze, taking a deep breath subtly before looking up and nodding, you are 27 now. If you didn't settle down soon, you might never have. especially now when you do need to do that. But how could you? when all your thoughts come back to... Charles? 

(last name is Darcy.)

Wanna dive in into another world?

Cecil from @Anetheranni is my latest obsession right now, ty queen for this.