Duke of Fyre (Braving the Elements #1)

Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9

L ydia's first night at Fyre Manor settled around her like a heavy cloak. The vastness of her new chambers seemed to amplify every small sound – the tick of the mantel clock, the whisper of wind through the ancient windowpanes, the occasional creak of centuries-old timber adjusting to the night's chill.

Sarah had helped her prepare for bed with the same quiet efficiency she'd shown all day, though Lydia noticed how the maid's eyes kept darting to the shadows in the corners of the room, as if expecting something to emerge from them.

"The house... it makes strange noises at night, Your Grace," Sarah had said hesitantly when Lydia questioned her nervous glances. "You'll get used to them, in time. We all do."

Now, lying in her massive four-poster bed, Lydia understood what Sarah meant. Every sound seemed magnified in the darkness – the rustle of leaves against the window, the distant echo of footsteps in the corridor, the soft whine of Mug as he settled into his new bed beside hers.

"It's just an old house," she whispered to herself, though her words seemed to be swallowed by the darkness. "All old houses have their quirks."

But it wasn't just the unfamiliar sounds that kept her awake. It was the weight of everything that had changed in a single day. This morning, she had woken in her childhood bed, surrounded by the comfortable chaos of her sisters' chatter. Now she lay in a stranger's bed, in a stranger's house, married to a man who was still very much a mystery to her.

Mug whined again, and Lydia reached down to scratch his ears. "At least I have you, my friend," she murmured. The little dog's presence was remarkably comforting in the vastness of her new chambers.

A particularly loud creak made her start, and she found herself wondering what Elias was doing. Was he still awake in his chambers across the manor? Did he lie awake at night, listening to these same sounds? Or had he grown so accustomed to them that he no longer noticed?

The thought of her husband brought a flush to her cheeks as she remembered their encounter outside her door. The way he had looked at her, the heat in his eyes before he'd turned away... Lydia pulled her pillow over her face, as if to hide her blush from the darkness itself.

"Stop that," she scolded herself. "This is a marriage of convenience, nothing more. The Duke made that perfectly clear."

But as she finally drifted off to sleep, her dreams were filled with midnight blue eyes and the scent of sandalwood, and the echo of a voice that made her shiver even in sleep.

She woke rather early the next morning – to a house that was far too quiet to be comfortable. With a sigh, Lydia dressed before heading out to find her husband, her new son or even any of the servants. She found the boy first – in the schoolchamber, where he sat hunched over his Latin grammar. His small face was scrunched in concentration, his golden curls falling into his eyes as he carefully formed each letter.

Lydia paused in the doorway, taking a moment to observe her new stepson. He looked so serious, so proper – far too proper for a child of ten. A woman stood nearby, her graying hair pulled back in a severe bun, watching Peter's progress with hawk-like attention.

"Good morning," Lydia said softly, not wanting to startle them.

Both heads snapped up at her voice. Peter immediately jumped to his feet, offering a small bow. "Good morning, Your Grace – I mean, Lydia," he corrected himself, a faint blush coloring his cheeks.

The woman – whom Lydia could only assume to be Miss Nancy, the governess – curtsied deeply. "Your Grace. We weren't expecting you this morning."

Lydia smiled warmly, moving further into the room. "Please, there's no need for such formality. I thought I might observe Peter's lessons, if that's acceptable?"

Miss Nancy's lips tightened almost imperceptibly. "His Grace is most particular about Master Peter's education. We follow a very strict schedule..."

"Of course," Lydia said smoothly, settling into a nearby chair. "I wouldn't dream of disrupting it. Please, carry on as if I weren't here."

Peter returned to his work, though Lydia noticed his posture was even more rigid than before. She watched as he labored over his translations, his small hand gripping the pen so tightly his knuckles turned white.

After several minutes of tense silence, broken only by the scratch of Peter's pen, Lydia couldn't contain herself any longer. "Perhaps," she suggested gently, "we might take a short break? The weather is lovely today."

"Oh, we couldn't possibly," Miss Nancy said quickly. "His Grace insists that Master Peter complete his morning studies without interruption. Education is of paramount importance to the Duke."

Lydia glanced at Peter, noting the way his shoulders had slumped at the governess's words. "Surely a brief respite would do more good than harm? All work and no play makes for a dull mind, after all."

Peter's head lifted slightly, hope flickering across his features before being quickly suppressed. "Father says play is for common children," he said quietly. "A future duke must focus on his studies."

Something in Lydia's heart cracked at those words. She rose from her chair, moving to kneel beside Peter's chair. "Do you know what I think?" she said conspiratorially. "I think future dukes need to know how to have fun too. How else will they understand their people?"

Miss Nancy made a small sound of protest. "Your Grace, I really must object. The Duke was very clear about Master Peter's schedule."

"Then I shall take full responsibility," Lydia declared, rising to her feet. "Come along, Peter. I believe I saw some excellent climbing trees in the garden. Perfect for a pirate's lookout, wouldn't you say?"

Peter's eyes widened. "Pirates?" he whispered, as if the very word might summon his father's disapproval.

"Oh yes," Lydia said, warming to her theme. "Fearsome pirates searching for buried treasure. And look – we even have a proper first mate!" She gestured to Mug, who had wandered in and was wagging his tail enthusiastically.

"But... but my Latin..." Peter protested weakly, though Lydia could see the excitement building in his eyes.

"Latin will still be here when we return," Lydia assured him. "Sometimes the best lessons happen outside of books. Miss Nancy, won't you join us? We could use a wise navigator."

The governess looked torn between her duty to follow the Duke's instructions and her obvious affection for her young charge. "The Duke will not be pleased," she warned.

"Let me worry about the Duke," Lydia said firmly. "Peter needs this. Please?"

After a moment's hesitation, Miss Nancy's stern expression softened. "Well... I suppose a short break couldn't hurt. But only thirty minutes!"

Peter's face lit up with joy, transforming him from a miniature adult into the child he truly was. "Really? We can really play pirates?"

"Of course!" Lydia said, offering her hand. "Captain Peter, your ship awaits!"

They quickly made their way to the garden, Mug bouncing excitedly around their feet. Peter's initial hesitation quickly melted away as Lydia helped him transform a gnarled old oak tree into a pirate ship, with branches serving as crow's nests and lower limbs as gangplanks.

"Look out, Captain!" Lydia called dramatically. "Enemy ships approaching from the starboard bow!"

Peter, perched on a low branch, played his part with growing enthusiasm. "Quick, First Mate Mug! Sound the alarm!" The little dog barked on cue, making them all laugh.

Even Miss Nancy, initially standing stiffly to the side, was eventually drawn into their game. She proved to have a surprising talent for pirate voices, though she insisted on incorporating educational elements by teaching Peter the proper nautical terms for different parts of their "ship."

As they played, Peter gradually began to open up, sharing little snippets of his life with his father. "Father never plays," he confided during a quiet moment when they were supposedly hiding from rival pirates. "He says it's beneath our dignity."

Lydia's heart ached at the loneliness in his voice. "Perhaps he's forgotten how," she suggested gently. "Sometimes grown-ups need to be reminded that play is important too."

Peter nodded thoughtfully. "He used to smile more, I think. Before... before Mother died." He paused, then added in a rush, "I don't remember her very well. I was very small when she left."

Lydia reached out to squeeze his hand. "That must be very hard," she said softly.

"Father never talks about her," Peter continued, his voice barely above a whisper. "Sometimes I think... I think it makes him sad to look at me. Miss Nancy says I look like her."

"Oh, Peter," Lydia murmured, pulling him into a gentle hug. After a moment's hesitation, he melted into her embrace, his small arms wrapping tightly around her waist.

"I try to be good," he said into her shoulder. "I try to be what Father wants. But sometimes..."

"Sometimes you just want to be a boy," Lydia finished for him. She pulled back slightly, looking into his eyes – so like his father's, yet filled with a vulnerability Elias never showed. "Listen to me, Peter. There's nothing wrong with that. You can be both – a future duke who takes his studies seriously, and a child who enjoys playing and laughing."

Miss Nancy, who had been pretending not to listen, cleared her throat. "Your Grace... Lydia... you should know that His Grace means well. He loves the boy fiercely, in his way. He's just... he struggles to show it."

"I know he does," Peter said quietly. "But sometimes I wish..."

"What do you wish, darling?" Lydia prompted when he fell silent.

"I wish he would just tell me," Peter admitted. "Just once. That he loves me, I mean. That he's proud of me."

Lydia felt tears prick at her eyes. In that moment, she made a silent addition to her list of duties as Duchess of Fyre. Somehow, some way, she would help bridge the gap between father and son. It wouldn't be easy – Elias was nothing if not stubborn – but she would find a way.

"Well then," she said brightly, pushing aside her emotions for now, "shall we return to our adventure? I believe I spotted some suspicious-looking clouds that might be hiding treasure!"

Peter's face brightened immediately, and soon they were back to their game, with Mug playing the part of a fearless sea dog and Miss Nancy serving as their resident cartographer. The thirty minutes she had initially granted them stretched into an hour, then two, as none of them could bear to end the magical morning.

Finally, Miss Nancy insisted they return to their lessons, though her usual stern demeanor was somewhat undermined by the leaf stuck in her hair from their "jungle expedition."

As they made their way back to the library, Peter turned to Lydia, his face serious once more. "Thank you," he said softly. "This was... this was the best morning I can remember."

Lydia squeezed his shoulder gently. "Then we shall have to have more mornings like it, shan't we? Perhaps next time we'll be explorers discovering new lands, or knights on a noble quest."

Peter's eyes lit up at the possibility, though he quickly glanced at Miss Nancy. The governess sighed, but there was a fond smile playing at her lips.

"I suppose," she said with exaggerated resignation, "that we might be able to incorporate some... alternative learning methods into our schedule. In moderation, of course."

"Of course," Lydia agreed solemnly, though she winked at Peter when Miss Nancy wasn't looking.

As she watched Peter return to his studies, his face notably more relaxed than before, Lydia mentally reviewed her expanding list of duties. Be a good wife, manage the household, maintain social connections – these were all still important. But now she had added two more crucial tasks: bring joy back into Peter's life, and help heal the rift between father and son.

It wouldn't be easy, especially given Elias's stern nature and apparent aversion to anything resembling frivolity. But as she thought of Peter's bright smile and the way he had clung to her during their brief embrace, Lydia knew it would be worth any amount of effort.

Perhaps, she mused as she left the library, this was why fate had brought her to Fyre Manor. Not just to be a duchess or a wife, but to help this broken family find their way back to each other. And maybe, just maybe, in helping them heal, she might find her own place in this grand but lonely house.

With her chin lifted and a steely gaze in her eyes, Lydia headed towards her chambers to change out of her now slightly dirt-stained dress. She had a feeling she would need all her wit and determination for the challenges that lay ahead.

But first, she needed to figure out how to explain to her husband why his son and his governess had spent the morning playing pirates in the garden.

Somehow, she suspected that conversation would require every ounce of diplomacy she possessed. But as she remembered Peter's laughter – probably the first to echo through these halls in years – she knew it had been worth it.

Let Elias frown and scowl all he liked. Some things were more important than dignity and proper behavior. And bringing happiness back to Fyre Manor was most certainly going to be one of them.