Duke of Fyre (Braving the Elements #1)

Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

S oon, the silence in the carriage grew thick and uncomfortable once more as they rolled through the countryside. Lydia found herself fidgeting with her gloves, desperately searching for something to say that wouldn't sound completely inane.

"The weather is... quite pleasant today," she ventured at last, immediately wanting to cringe at such a pedestrian observation.

"Indeed," Elias replied flatly, not looking up from the document he was perusing.

Another painful silence descended. Mug chose that moment to let out a rather undignified snore from his position at their feet.

"Your dog seems... comfortable," Elias remarked, his tone suggesting he found this less than ideal.

"Oh, yes, he's quite adaptable," Lydia said quickly, grateful for any topic of conversation. "Though he does tend to..." She was cut off by a particularly loud snort from Mug, followed by what could only be described as a canine whimper. "...dream rather actively," she finished, feeling her cheeks grow warm.

Elias's eyebrow rose slightly as he finally looked at her. "I see. And does he often make such... interesting noises?"

"Only when he's particularly content," Lydia assured him, then immediately wondered if that had been the right thing to say. "Not that he'll be sleeping in your... that is, I mean... he'll stay in my chambers, of course."

She could have sworn she saw the ghost of a smile flicker across Elias's face before he returned his attention to his papers. "One would hope so."

Desperate to change the subject, Lydia blurted out, "I look forward to meeting Peter. You seem to think highly of him.”

This got Elias's full attention. He set down his papers, fixing her with that intense blue gaze that never failed to make her pulse quicken. "I do . Though I must warn you, he can be... challenging at times."

"All children can be challenging," Lydia said, then hastily added, "Not that I have much experience with children, of course, except for my sisters, but they were different, being my sisters, and I wasn't really their mother figure, though I did help raise them, but that's not the same as being a proper mother, which I suppose I'll have to learn to be now, though I'm sure Peter won't make it too difficult, unless he does, in which case I'll simply have to..." She clamped her mouth shut, mortified by her rambling.

The silence that followed was excruciating. Lydia wished fervently that the ground would open up and swallow her whole.

"You needn't be nervous," Elias said after what felt like an eternity. "Peter is... adaptable. Like your dog, apparently."

Was that an attempt at humor? Lydia wasn't sure, but she offered a tentative smile anyway. "I do hope we'll get along well. Peter and I, I mean. Not Mug and Peter. Though I hope they get along too. Not that it's the most important thing, of course. The most important thing is that I be a good mother figure, which I fully intend to be, even though I'm not quite sure how to go about it yet, but I'm determined to learn, and..."

"You're rambling again," Elias observed, though his tone seemed more amused than annoyed.

"Yes, I... I do that when I'm nervous," Lydia admitted, twisting her gloves in her lap. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Elias said, surprising her. "It's... refreshing."

Before Lydia could process what that might mean, Mug let out another dramatic snore, followed by what sounded suspiciously like a tiny bark. Both of them looked down at the sleeping dog, then back at each other.

"He's usually much more dignified," Lydia said weakly.

"Somehow, I doubt that," Elias replied, but there was definitely a hint of humor in his voice now.

They lapsed into silence once more, though this time it felt slightly less uncomfortable. Lydia found herself stealing glances at her new husband, noting the strong line of his jaw, the way his hair curled slightly at his collar, the elegant way he held himself even while sitting in a moving carriage.

"Is there something on my face?" Elias asked without looking up from his papers.

Lydia startled, realizing she'd been staring. "No! No, I was just... that is... I was admiring the... the countryside. Through the window. Behind you."

"The countryside," Elias repeated slowly, "through the window that is currently covered by the curtain?"

Lydia felt her face flame. "Ah. Yes. Well. I suppose I wasn't doing that at all, was I?"

The corner of Elias's mouth twitched. "No, I suppose not. Well," he continued as the carriage slowed. "We are almost here."

He glanced at her with a shadow of a smile before opening the curtain behind him and Lydia leaned forward slightly, eager for her first glimpse of her new home. As the imposing structure came into view, she felt her breath catch in her throat.

The manor was truly spectacular, all soaring spires and elegant stonework. Ivy climbed the weathered walls, and mullioned windows glinted like jewels in the fading light. It was both beautiful and slightly forbidding, much like its master, Lydia thought.

As the carriage drew to a halt, Elias descended first, turning to offer his hand to Lydia. She accepted his assistance, noting how easily he lifted her down, his grip firm but gentle. Mug wriggled in her other arm, eager to explore his new surroundings.

"Welcome to Fyre Manor," Elias said, his deep voice oddly formal. Was it her imagination, or did his eyes linger on her face a moment longer than necessary?

Before Lydia could respond, the great oak doors swung open, revealing a small figure hovering uncertainly in the entrance hall. Peter Blacknight was a slight boy with golden curls and his father's striking blue eyes. He stood ramrod straight, clearly trying to affect the dignified bearing expected of the heir to a dukedom, but Lydia could see the barely contained nervousness in his stance.

"Peter," Elias called, his tone attempting to be gentle. "Come meet your new mother."

The boy approached slowly, his eyes downcast. When he reached them, he executed a perfect bow. "Welcome to Fyre Manor, Your Grace."

As Lydia knelt before him, she noticed small details that tugged at her heart – the slight trembling of his lower lip, the way his small hands were clenched tightly at his sides, the careful distance he maintained even while bowing. This was a child who had learned to be wary of changes, she realized, who had perhaps been disappointed too many times before.

"Thank you, Peter," she said softly. "But please, when we're alone, I'd love it if you'd call me Lydia. And I believe I have someone here who's very eager to meet you."

She gestured to Mug, who had been watching Peter with obvious interest. To her surprise, the usually boisterous dog seemed to sense the delicacy of the moment. Instead of his typical enthusiastic greeting, he approached Peter slowly, tail wagging gently, and sat perfectly still at the boy's feet, looking up at him with soulful eyes.

Peter's eyes widened slightly, a crack appearing in his careful composure. "He's... he's very small," he observed quietly, as if afraid speaking too loudly might frighten the dog away.

"Yes," Lydia smiled. "But what he lacks in size, he makes up for in heart. Would you like to pet him? He's very gentle."

Peter glanced quickly at his father, seeking permission. Elias gave a slight nod, his face unreadable as he watched the interaction.

With trembling fingers, Peter reached out to stroke Mug's scruffy fur. The moment his hand made contact, something magical happened. Mug's entire body wiggled with joy, but he remained sitting, letting the boy pet him at his own pace. A smile broke across Peter's face, transforming his serious countenance into something bright and childlike.

"His fur is so soft," Peter whispered, his smile growing as Mug leaned into his touch. "And warm."

"He likes you," Lydia said, watching as the tension gradually left Peter's shoulders. "He's usually much more excitable with new people. I think you must be special."

Peter's eyes lit up at this, though he tried to maintain his proper demeanor. "Really? Could I... could I perhaps play with him sometimes?"

"Of course you may," Lydia assured him. "In fact, I think Mug would be very disappointed if you didn't."

Throughout this exchange, Elias had remained silent, his expression unreadable as he watched his new wife and his son interact. Lydia caught him frowning several times, though she couldn't fathom what she might have done to displease him. Was she being too familiar with Peter? Should she have maintained more distance?

"Peter," Elias said suddenly, his voice cutting through the moment like a knife. "It's time for you to return to your room. Lady Lydia needs to rest after her journey."

The boy's face fell slightly, but he nodded obediently. "Yes, Father." He turned to Lydia, offering another small bow. "Good evening... Lydia. And thank you for letting me meet Mug."

As Peter disappeared up the grand staircase, Mug looked torn between following his new friend and staying with his mistress. Lydia smiled, gesturing for him to go. "Go on, then. Keep Peter company for a while."

The little dog needed no further encouragement, scampering after the boy with obvious delight. Lydia watched them go, her heart warming at the instant bond that had formed between them.

"Come," Elias said, offering his arm. "I'll show you to your chambers."

Lydia accepted his arm, acutely aware of his warmth even through the layers of clothing between them. They ascended the stairs in silence, moving through corridors decorated with ancestral portraits and priceless artworks. Finally, Elias stopped before a door in the east wing, well away from the master suite she knew must be in the west wing.

"These will be your rooms," he said, pushing open the door to reveal an elegant suite decorated in shades of blue and cream.

Lydia hesitated in the doorway, confusion clouding her features. "My rooms? But I thought... aren't we to share chambers?"

Elias went very still beside her. Then, in one fluid movement, he stepped closer, effectively backing her against the doorframe. His considerable height forced her to tilt her head back to meet his gaze, and she found herself trapped by the intensity in those midnight blue eyes.

"Are you so eager to fulfill your wifely duties, Lady Lydia?" he asked, his voice dropping to a low rumble that sent shivers down her spine.

Lydia felt heat flood her cheeks as she realized the implications of her question. "I... that is... I merely thought..."

"Listen carefully," Elias said, leaning even closer. His scent enveloped her – sandalwood and leather and something uniquely male. "You have no duties to fulfill in my bed. Your only obligations are to be a mother to Peter and to accompany me to social functions when absolutely necessary. Nothing more."

Lydia could hardly breathe. He was so close she could feel the heat radiating from his body, could see the flecks of silver in his blue eyes. She knew she should be frightened – he was essentially pinning her to the wall, after all – but instead, she felt a curious excitement stirring in her belly. Her pulse quickened, and she was certain he must be able to hear her heart pounding.

"Do you understand?" Elias asked, his gaze dropping briefly to her parted lips before snapping back to her eyes.

"Yes," Lydia whispered, her voice barely audible. "I understand perfectly."

For a long moment, neither of them moved. The air between them crackled with tension, and Lydia found herself wondering what would happen if she simply leaned forward those few inches that separated them...

Then Elias stepped back abruptly, leaving her feeling oddly bereft of his warmth. Without another word, he turned on his heel and strode away, his footsteps echoing in the empty corridor.

Lydia sagged against the doorframe, her legs trembling slightly. What had just happened? And why did she feel so... disappointed that he had walked away?

Shaking her head to clear it, she entered her new chambers, closing the door firmly behind her. As she moved to the window, gazing out at the darkening grounds of her new home, she couldn't help but wonder what other surprises awaited her as the Duchess of Fyre.