Duke of Fyre (Braving the Elements #1)

Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

" L ydia… Lydia, wake up!"

It was Marian's voice that broke through the confusing dreams of strangers in parks and Lydia blinked a few times to allow both her sisters to come into focus. Both Marian and Jane looked quite panicked, what with their furrowed brows and flushed cheeks.

"Father and mother want to see you," Jane got out at last. "They look… Oh, I don't know how they look, but it is important."

Within seconds, her sisters had her dressed and ready - and she moved down to the drawing room where she sat with her hands clasped tightly in her lap as she faced her parents. Viscount Silas Brandon paced before the fireplace, his face set in stern lines, while her mother, Viscountess Prudence, perched on the edge of her chair, her lips pursed in disapproval.

"Lydia," her father began, his voice clipped, "your mother and I have come to a decision regarding your future."

Lydia's heart sank. She had known this day was coming, had dreaded it for months, but now that it was here, she found herself woefully unprepared.

"Yes, Father?" she managed, proud that her voice remained steady despite the churning in her stomach.

The Viscount ceased his pacing, fixing her with a hard stare. "We have found you a husband."

The words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. Lydia felt as though all the oxygen had been sucked from the room.

"I... I see," she said faintly. "May I ask who-"

"You are in no position to ask questions, Lydia," her mother interjected sharply. "You should be grateful that any man of standing would consider you at all, given your... circumstances."

Lydia flinched at the barely veiled contempt in her mother's tone. At five and twenty, she was well past the age when most young ladies of her station were wed. Her continued spinsterhood was a source of constant shame for her parents and a black mark on the family's reputation.

"Your mother is right," her father added, his voice softening slightly. "We have done our best by you, Lydia. But your failure to secure a match has not only damaged your own prospects but those of your sisters as well. It's time you did your duty to this family."

Guilt washed over Lydia in a bitter wave. She thought of her younger sisters - Marian, Jane, and Diana - and how her own shortcomings had cast a shadow over their futures. She had no right to protest, not when so much was at stake.

"I understand, Father," she said quietly. "I will do as you wish."

A flicker of relief passed over her father's face. "Good. That's... good. The marriage contract will be drawn up within the week. You will meet your betrothed when he comes to call in three days' time."

"Three days?" Lydia echoed, startled. "But that's so soon. Surely-"

"Lydia," her mother cut in, her tone warning. "Do not test our patience. You will be ready to receive him, and you will comport yourself with the grace and decorum befitting your station. Is that understood?"

Lydia swallowed hard, forcing back the tide of questions and protests that threatened to spill from her lips. "Yes, Mother. Of course."

"Very well," the Viscount said, his tone final. "You may go."

Lydia rose on unsteady legs, curtsying to her parents before fleeing the oppressive confines of the drawing room. As she closed the door behind her, she leaned against it for a moment, taking deep breaths to calm her racing heart.

"Lydia?" a small voice called. She looked up to see Diana, the youngest of her sisters, peering around the corner. "Are you alright? We heard raised voices."

Lydia managed a small smile, pushing away from the door and straightening her shoulders. "I'm fine, dearest. Come, let's find Marian and Jane. I have news to share."

As they climbed the stairs, Diana slipped her hand into Lydia's, squeezing it gently. The gesture, so simple and sincere, nearly undid Lydia's carefully maintained composure. She blinked back tears, grateful for her sister's quiet support.

They found Marian and Jane in Lydia's bedchamber, already huddled together on the bed with anxious expressions. As Lydia entered, they both leapt up, bombarding her with questions.

"What happened?"

"What did Mother and Father want?"

"Are you in trouble because of yesterday's incident in the park?"

Lydia held up a hand, silencing the barrage. "Peace, both of you. Let me sit down, and I'll explain everything."

As she sank onto the edge of the bed, Lydia felt a familiar weight settle on her lap. Mug, had sensed her distress and come to offer comfort. She scratched behind his ears, drawing strength from his steady presence.

"Well?" Marian prompted, her voice gentle. "What's happened, Lydia?"

Taking a deep breath, Lydia met her sisters' concerned gazes. "Mother and Father have found me a husband. I am to be married."

A chorus of gasps filled the room. Jane and Diana clutched at each other's hands, their eyes wide with apprehension. It was Jane who found her voice first.

"Married?" she repeated. "But to whom? Do we know him?"

Lydia shook her head. "They didn't say. Only that I am to meet him in three days' time."

"Oh, Lydia," Marian said softly, reaching out to squeeze her hand. "Are you alright? This must be such a shock."

Lydia managed a wan smile. "I'm fine. Really. It's... it's for the best, I'm sure. And perhaps now you three will have an easier time of it in society."

The sisters exchanged guilty glances. It was no secret that Lydia's prolonged spinsterhood had cast a pall over their own social prospects. Still, the girls did not blame their elder sister one bit. In fact, Lydia was rather certain a part of them quite enjoyed still having her around and she smiled ruefully at the thought.

"Don't say that," Diana said, her voice small. "We don't blame you, Lydia. It's not your fault."

"Of course it is," Lydia replied, unable to keep the bitterness from her tone. "If I had just been prettier, or wittier, or…"

"Stop it," Marian interrupted firmly. "You are perfect just as you are. And any man would be lucky to have you as his wife."

Lydia felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes. "Thank you," she whispered. "I only hope my future husband feels the same way."

An uncomfortable silence fell over the room. Lydia looked up to find her sisters exchanging nervous glances.

"What is it?" she asked, a sense of foreboding creeping over her. "Do you know something about my betrothed?"

Jane bit her lip, hesitating for a moment before blurting out, "It's the Duke of Fyre!"

Lydia felt as though she'd been doused in ice water. "What?" she gasped. "How... how do you know that?"

The Duke of Fyre was a rather infamous recluse. Lydia had never seen the man before, but she had heard quite enough of him to be intimidated enough by the mere thought of him.

"We overheard Mother and Father talking," Marian admitted. "They didn't know we were listening."

"The Duke of Fyre," Lydia repeated, her mind reeling.. "But... but why would he want to marry me? I cannot imagine why… Why he would want to marry me..."

"Oh, Lydia," Jane said, her voice hushed. "Haven't you heard the rumors?"

Before Lydia could respond, Jane produced a crumpled sheet of paper from her pocket. "Look," she said, smoothing it out on the bedspread. "It's from last month's scandal sheet."

Lydia leaned in, her eyes widening as she read the lurid headlines:

"BEAST OF FYRE STRIKES AGAIN: WILL MYSTERIOUS DUKE'S LIST OF VICTIMS GROW?"

"SERVANTS FLEE FYRE MANOR IN TERROR: 'HE'S NOT HUMAN,' CLAIMS FORMER MAID"

"MYSTERIOUS HOWLS HEARD FROM DUKE'S PRIVATE CHAMBERS: WHAT DARK SECRETS LURK WITHIN?"

"This... this can't be true," Lydia stammered, pushing the paper away. "It's nonsense. Pure sensationalism."

"But Lydia," Diana said, her voice trembling, "they say he never leaves his estate. That he's hideously deformed, or... or cursed. Some even claim he's not human at all, but some sort of monster in a man's skin."

"And now he wants a wife," Jane added, her eyes wide with absolute terror. "They say his last three brides all died under mysterious circumstances. No one knows what became of them."

Lydia felt her head spinning. Could this be true? Could it be that her parents would truly let her marry some hideous monster? And why would the monster want to marry her?

"This is ridiculous," she said, forcing a note of confidence into her voice. "You can't possibly believe any of this. It's nothing but idle gossip and wild speculation."

"But Lydia," Marian pressed, "why else would a man like the Duke of Fyre want to marry you? No offense," she added hastily, "but you're hardly the sort of bride one would expect for such a powerful nobleman."

Lydia flinched at her sister's words, stung despite the lack of malice behind them. "Perhaps," she said slowly, "he simply wants a wife who won't be cowed by his... reputation. Or someone who is a bit… older, who will not pay mind to these rumours."

Even as she spoke the words, Lydia wasn't sure she believed them. But she couldn't bear to see the fear in her sisters' eyes, couldn't stomach the thought of them worrying for her safety.

"Listen to me," she said, gathering her courage. "I'm sure these rumors are greatly exaggerated. The Duke may be... difficult, but he's still a man. A nobleman, at that. He would never harm his wife. He would not get away with it."

Her sisters didn't look entirely convinced, but some of the tension seemed to ease from their shoulders.

"You're probably right," Marian said, though she didn't sound entirely certain. "And perhaps... perhaps once you're married, you can help improve his reputation. Show people that he's not the monster they believe him to be."

Lydia managed a small smile. "Exactly. I'm sure that's all this is - a chance for the Duke to rehabilitate his image. Nothing more sinister than that."

As her sisters began to chatter about wedding plans and what Lydia might wear to meet her betrothed, she found her thoughts drifting back to the mysterious Duke of Fyre. What was he like? Would he be cruel, like the rumors suggested ? Or would he merely be introverted and shy?

But as night fell and her sisters finally left her alone, Lydia couldn't quite shake the chill that had settled in her bones. She thought of Fyre Manor, of the dark secrets that might lurk within its walls. And for the first time in her life, Lydia Brandon found herself truly afraid of what the future might hold.

Unable to sleep, Lydia slipped out of bed and padded over to her her sisters' bedchamber. To her relief, both Marian and Jane were still awake, though Diana was fast asleep. They looked up as she entered, their brows furrowed.

"We don't want you to leave, Lydia," Jane muttered, tears forming in her eyes. "What if…"

Jane did not need to finish her sentence. Lydia knew what she thought, she understood.

"I am afraid too," she admitted now, her voice but a whisper. "What if…"

Marian now nodded as well and it was she who uttered the words they all feared to do. "What if you do not ever come back?" she said at last and Lydia let out a shuddering sigh.

It was true that the Duke had a fearsome reputation.

"I hear he murdered his first wife," Jane let out now, her voice coming out in almost a wail. "What if he murders you too?"

"Oh," Lydia whispered, trying her utmost best to hide her own fears about this. "Do you really think I'll let myself be murdered that easily?"

Jane sniffed in response and Lydia leaned forward, pressing her hand against Jane's cheek.

"I will be fine," she said. "I promise."

It was not a promise she could keep, Lydia thought. But she would try. She would certainly try.

A soft whine drew her attention to the foot of her bed, where Mug sat watching her with soulful eyes.

"Oh, Mug," she sighed, scooping the little dog into her arms. "What are we going to do? How can I possibly be a duchess when I can barely manage to be a proper lady?"

Mug responded by licking her cheek, his unwavering affection a balm to her troubled soul. Lydia hugged him close, drawing strength from his steadfast presence.

"Well, my friend," she said, her voice growing determined, "if we're to face this challenge, we'd best be prepared. What do you say we start planning?"

With renewed purpose, Lydia returned to her desk and began to make lists. First, she wrote down everything she knew about running a large household, drawing on her years of assisting her mother. Then, she jotted down ideas for social events and charity work - things a proper duchess would be expected to oversee.

As the candle burned low and the first light of dawn began to creep through her window, Lydia finally felt a sense of calm settle over her. She may not have chosen this path, but she would walk it with dignity and grace. And perhaps, in doing so, she might finally become the woman she had always longed to be.

With a weary smile, Lydia blew out the candle and climbed back into bed, Mug curling up at her feet. As she drifted off to sleep, her last thoughts were not of fear or uncertainty, but of determination. Whatever the future held, she would face it head-on, with courage and an open heart.

For in the end, that was all anyone could really do.