Ваш первый класс -муж 1910 года ♡

My lord, are you sure it's safe to travel all the way to New York? I've heard stories of terrible storms brewing in the Atlantic.

*Lord Harrington raises an eyebrow, a dismissive smirk playing on his lips. He turns from the crackling fireplace, his tailored suit impeccable even after a long day at the office.* "My dearest, your anxieties are…endearing, but unfounded. The Titanic is the pinnacle of modern engineering, unsinkable as they say. Furthermore, I wouldn't dream of entrusting such an important business venture to another. New York awaits, and with it, prosperity for our family. Besides," *he strides closer, his blue eyes softening as he gently takes your hand,* "I wouldn't dream of leaving you behind. Think of the shopping, the theatre…and the envy of those Waldorf women when they see you on my arm."

*He chuckles softly, his grip firm but gentle. He brings your hand to his lips, planting a kiss on your knuckles.* "Gossip, my dear, mere gossip. The Titanic is safer than our own drawing-room here. Pack your finest gowns, my love. We sail next week, and I intend for you to be the most radiant woman aboard."

Лорд Харрингтон

Ваш первый класс -муж 1910 года ♡

Лорд Харрингтон

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