Duke of Fyre (Braving the Elements #1)

Chapter 16

CHAPTER 16

L ydia stood amid a sea of silk and lace, contemplating which gowns to pack for their upcoming journey to the Hartley's ball in London. Mug lay sprawled across her bed, occasionally offering his opinion with a sleepy bark when she held up a particularly colorful option.

A soft knock at the door drew her attention. "Come in!" she called, expecting Sarah with more dress boxes from the modiste.

Instead, Peter's golden curls peeked around the door. "Lydia? Are you very busy?"

"Never too busy for you, darling." She smiled, noting the slight droop of his shoulders. "Come help me choose which gowns to take. Mug's taste runs rather heavily to anything with ribbons he can chew."

Peter shuffled into the room, settling on the edge of her bed beside Mug. The little dog immediately rolled over for belly rubs, making the boy smile despite his obvious melancholy.

"I wish I could come with you," he said finally, his fingers buried in Mug's fur. "I've never been to London before."

Lydia's heart ached at the wistfulness in his voice. Setting aside a blue silk gown, she moved to sit beside him. "I know, darling. I wish you could come too. But it's only for a few days, and I promise to bring you back something special."

"Really?" Peter perked up slightly. "Like what?"

"Hmm." Lydia tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Perhaps a new sketch book? I know an excellent shop that carries the finest drawing papers. And maybe... oh, I don't know... a box of those chocolate truffles you've been dreaming about since Thomas mentioned them?"

A real smile broke across Peter's face. "The ones with the orange filling?"

"Those very ones. And," she added conspiratorially, "I promise to work on convincing your father to take you with us next time. After all, a future duke should know his way around society, shouldn't he?"

"Do you really think he'd agree?"

"Leave that to me," Lydia winked. "I can be very persuasive when I want to be."

Peter giggled, then sobered slightly. "Will you... will you tell me what it's like? When you get back?"

"Every detail," Lydia promised. "In fact, why don't I tell you about my first ball? It was quite the disaster, actually. I managed to trip over my own feet and nearly pulled down an entire table of refreshments!"

"You didn't!" Peter's eyes widened with delight.

"Oh, but I did! My sisters never let me forget it. Jane still brings it up at every family gathering." Lydia smiled at the memory. "Speaking of which, would you like to meet them sometime? I'm sure they'd love to know their new nephew."

"Really?" Peter sat up straighter. "What are they like?"

Lydia settled back against her pillows, drawing Peter close. "Well, there's Marian – she's the sensible one, always trying to keep the rest of us out of trouble. Though she did once convince us all to climb the apple tree in our nightgowns because she was certain she'd seen fairies in the highest branches."

Peter laughed, snuggling closer. "Did you find any?"

"No, but we did find an extremely angry mother when she discovered us all covered in bark stains at breakfast! Then there's Jane – oh, she's the mischievous one. Always planning some adventure or another. Once, she decided we should start a secret society in the attic..."

"What kind of secret society?"

"The Midnight Marauders, we called ourselves. Very dramatic. We had passwords and everything. Mother nearly had apoplexy when she found our coded messages hidden in her best tea service!"

"What was the password?" Peter asked eagerly.

Lydia lowered her voice to a whisper. "'Prudence's porridge is poisonous!' Though don't tell your grandmother I told you that. She's still quite proud of her porridge-making abilities."

They both dissolved into giggles, Mug joining in with excited yips.

"And Diana," Lydia continued once they'd caught their breath, "she's the youngest. Sweet as sugar but twice as sticky when she wants something. She once convinced the cook that Queen Victoria herself was coming to tea, just so she could have extra biscuits!"

"Did it work?"

"For about ten minutes – until Mother discovered the kitchen in complete chaos and poor Cook having hysterics over the state of her best china!"

Peter's laughter faded into a thoughtful expression. "It must have been wonderful, having sisters to play with."

Lydia hugged him closer, sensing the shift in his mood. "It was. Though I imagine you would have given them all a run for their money with your pirate adventures!"

"I used to imagine having brothers and sisters," Peter admitted quietly. "Sometimes I'd pretend my toy soldiers were my siblings, and we'd go on grand adventures together."

Lydia's heart squeezed. "Would you like to tell me about them?"

Peter was silent for a moment, his fingers twisting in Mug's fur. "There was William – he was the eldest after me. Very brave and strong. And Mary, she was clever like you, always knowing just what to do. And little Thomas..." He trailed off, blinking rapidly.

"They sound wonderful, darling."

"Father never talks about my real mother," Peter said suddenly, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don't... I don't even know what she looked like. Sometimes I think that's why he doesn't like to look at me too much. Maybe I remind him of her?"

Lydia felt tears prick at her eyes. "Oh, my darling boy. Your father loves you very much. Sometimes... sometimes people carry hurts so deep they don't know how to speak of them. But that doesn't mean they love any less."

"Did she..." Peter swallowed hard. "Did she not want me?"

"Peter, no!" Lydia turned him to face her, her heart breaking at the uncertainty in his eyes. "Listen to me very carefully. Your mother died when you were born – that wasn't anyone's fault, and it certainly wasn't because she didn't want you. I'm sure she loved you very, very much."

"How can you be sure?"

"Because," Lydia said softly, brushing a stray curl from his forehead, "it's impossible not to love you. You're clever and kind and brave, and any mother would be proud to call you son."

Peter's lower lip trembled. "Even you?"

"Oh, my darling." Lydia pulled him close as the tears finally spilled over. "Especially me."

She held him while he cried, rocking gently and stroking his hair as she had so often done for her sisters. Mug pressed close against them both, offering his own form of comfort with gentle whines and occasional licks to Peter's hand.

Finally, the tears subsided, and Peter pulled back slightly, wiping his eyes. "I'm sorry," he mumbled. "I didn't mean to cry like a baby."

"Nonsense," Lydia said firmly. "There's nothing wrong with crying. Even pirates cry sometimes, you know."

That got a watery chuckle out of him. "They do?"

"Oh yes. Especially when they're missing their families while out on long voyages. Why do you think they're always singing such sad songs?"

Peter considered this. "I suppose that makes sense. Though I bet they don't cry into their stepmothers' best silk dress."

Lydia glanced down at the tear stains on her gown and shrugged. "Well, this one needed altering anyway. Now it has character!"

Peter smiled, then grew serious again. "Lydia? Do you think... do you think someday I might have real siblings? Not just pretend ones?"

The question caught her off guard, making her heart flutter strangely. She thought of her list, of the duties she had yet to fulfill as Duchess of Fyre. But more than that, she thought of how wonderful it would be to give Peter the family he so desperately wanted.

"I hope so, darling," she said softly. "I hope so very much."

Peter brightened considerably. "I'd be a good big brother," he declared. "I'd teach them all about pirates and herbs and how to draw properly. And I'd protect them, like William always protected his siblings in my stories."

"You'd be the very best big brother," Lydia agreed, pushing aside the twinge in her heart at the thought of discussing such matters with Elias. That was a bridge to cross another day.

"And you'd tell them stories? Like you tell me?"

"Every night," she promised. "Though they'd have to be different stories – we can't have them stealing your pirate tales!"

"No," Peter agreed seriously. "Those are just for us."

Lydia felt her heart swell with love for this precious boy who had so quickly become her own. "Indeed they are. Now, speaking of stories, shall I tell you about the time Jane convinced Diana that she could teach Marian's cat to dance?"

Peter settled back against her pillows, his earlier melancholy forgotten. "What happened?"

"Well, it involved three yards of ribbon, Mother's best bonnet, and a very angry cat..."

As she launched into the tale, watching Peter's face light up with laughter, Lydia silently added another item to her list: Give Peter the family he deserves. It wouldn't be easy, given Elias's careful distance and her own uncertainties. But as she looked at the boy who had so thoroughly captured her heart, she knew it would be worth any amount of effort.

After all, she'd already succeeded in becoming a duchess and finding happiness in her marriage – even if that happiness wasn't quite what she'd expected. Surely adding to their family couldn't be any more challenging than taming the Beast of Fyre?

Though perhaps, she thought as Peter dissolved into giggles at her description of the cat's escape attempt, she'd wait until after the ball to tackle that particular item on her list. One impossible task at a time was quite enough!

For now, she was content to sit here with her son – for that's what he truly was in her heart – sharing stories and dreams of the future. The rest would come in time. She just had to keep faith, stay determined, and perhaps invest in a few more silk gowns for tear-stained emergencies.

Just in case.