Duke of Fyre (Braving the Elements #1)

Chapter 33

CHAPTER 33

A few days later, a newly healed Lydia sat stiffly in the dining room, staring down at the teacup her mother had just set before her. The porcelain clinked faintly against the saucer as Prudence sat down across from her, her expression calm but determined. Silas, her father, sat at the head of the table, drumming his fingers lightly on the wood.

Elias had gone to fetch their carriage, giving them a few moments alone. Lydia knew what was coming; the unease in her parents' manner was unmistakable.

"Lydia," her mother began, smoothing invisible wrinkles in her skirt. "Your father and I have been thinking."

"That's not new," Lydia said lightly, though her attempt at humor fell flat.

Prudence's lips pursed, but she pressed on. "Now that you've recovered and life has settled down, it's time you and Elias begin thinking about your future—about an heir."

Lydia's stomach dropped. She hadn't expected them to broach the subject so soon. Her fingers tightened on the edge of her napkin, but she kept her voice steady. "We've already discussed this, Mother. Elias and I aren't planning to have children."

Prudence blinked, as if she hadn't heard correctly. "I beg your pardon?"

"You heard me," Lydia said, her tone firmer this time. "It's not something we're going to do."

Her father leaned forward, his voice heavy with authority. "Lydia, this isn't a decision you can make lightly. You're a duchess now. Your duty is to continue the line."

"It's not a decision I made lightly," Lydia countered, her spine straightening. "Elias and I have considered it carefully. This is what we want."

Prudence's hand fluttered to her chest, as though Lydia's words had physically struck her. "You can't mean that," she whispered. "Every woman doubts at first, but in time?—"

"I'm not doubting," Lydia interrupted, her tone sharp enough to make her mother flinch. "This is my final decision."

Silas's face darkened. "You've always been a willful girl, Lydia, but this—this is reckless. Thoughtless."

"It's not reckless to know what I want, Father," Lydia said, her voice rising. "And it's not thoughtless to choose what's best for my family."

Her mother let out a soft gasp. "And what about us, Lydia? Have you thought about how this affects your family here? Your sisters?"

The mention of her sisters made Lydia pause for a moment, but only to gather her resolve. "Marian, Diana, and Jane deserve your attention now. Not me. I have my own family to care for."

Silas opened his mouth to retort, but Lydia's next words cut him off. "And before you try to make me feel guilty, let me be clear—this isn't up for debate."

The room went silent, her parents exchanging stunned glances. Prudence looked to Silas, hoping he might press the matter further, but before he could speak, heavy footsteps sounded in the hallway.

Elias entered, his expression unreadable, though his eyes flicked to Lydia with a silent question. She met his gaze steadily, giving him a small nod. He took one look at her parents and seemed to understand what had transpired.

"Is everything ready?" he asked, his voice calm but firm, as though daring anyone to challenge him.

Silas stiffened in his chair. "We were just discussing a very important matter."

"No," Lydia said, standing abruptly. "We were done discussing it."

Prudence rose as well, her composure beginning to crack. "Lydia, please. You can't mean to leave with this hanging in the air. Think of what people will say. Think of?—"

Elias's voice cut through her protests like a blade. "That's enough."

Prudence froze, her mouth opening and closing like a fish. Silas's eyes narrowed at the commanding tone, but he said nothing.

Elias stepped forward, placing a hand on Lydia's back. "This is our life, not yours. Lydia has spoken, and I will not tolerate anyone trying to guilt her into changing her mind."

"But Elias," Prudence tried again, her voice cracking slightly. "She's your wife. Surely you want?—"

"What I want," Elias said, his voice dangerously low, "is for Lydia to be happy. And if you truly cared for her, you would want the same."

Prudence looked as though she might cry, but Lydia had no sympathy to spare. She took Elias's hand, her grip firm. "I already have a family," she said, her voice calm but unyielding. "One that needs me, and one that I will protect with everything I have. If you ever wish to visit, you're welcome—but only if you respect my choices and my family."

The silence that followed was deafening. Prudence finally sank back into her chair, dabbing at her eyes with a lace handkerchief. Silas looked as though he wanted to argue further, but Elias's presence seemed to hold him in check.

"Very well," Silas said at last, his tone clipped. "If that's your decision, we will abide by it."

"Thank you," Lydia said, her voice carrying an unmistakable note of finality.

Without another word, Elias led her from the room. The carriage waited just beyond the front doors, the horses restless as if sensing their passengers' urgency. Lydia didn't look back as they stepped inside, though she could feel the weight of her parents' disappointment lingering like a shadow.

The journey home began in silence. Lydia stared out the window, her thoughts a jumble of emotions—relief, defiance, and a lingering ache for the relationship with her parents that would never quite be the same.

"You did well," Elias said quietly, breaking the silence.

Lydia turned to him, her expression softening. "Did I?"

He nodded, reaching for her hand. "You stood your ground. I'm proud of you."

She leaned her head against his shoulder, her fingers entwining with his. "I couldn't have done it without you."

Elias pressed a kiss to the top of her head but said nothing more. The steady rhythm of the carriage wheels on the road lulled them both into a companionable silence, and for the first time in days, Lydia allowed herself to simply breathe.

As the carriage rolled to a stop at the grand entrance of Fyre Manor, Lydia felt a flutter of nerves in her chest. She glanced at Elias, who gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. He stepped out first, turning to help her down with the ease and care that always steadied her.

Before she could take a single step toward the manor, a streak of fur shot out from the front doors, yapping furiously. Mug bolted toward her, his scruffy coat bouncing as he ran. Right behind him came Peter, his small legs carrying him as fast as they could, his cries of "Lydia!" carrying across the courtyard.

Lydia's breath hitched as Mug reached her first, leaping up to plant his front paws on her skirts. She knelt, her arms outstretched, and the little dog wasted no time jumping into them. His tail wagged so furiously it seemed to vibrate, and he barked between frantic licks to her cheek.

"Mug, you silly thing," she said with a laugh, burying her face in his fur. "I missed you too!"

Peter reached her next, his arms wrapping tightly around her as he buried his face in her shoulder. Lydia managed to hold both boy and dog, though tears prickled at her eyes as Peter's small body trembled against her.

"I thought you left us," Peter whispered, his voice muffled. "I thought… you weren't coming back."

Lydia's chest tightened, and she kissed the top of his head. "Oh, Peter," she murmured. "I would never leave you. Never. I missed you so much."

Elias crouched beside them, his presence grounding as he placed a hand on Peter's back and gently ruffled Mug's fur. "See?" Elias said softly to Peter. "Lydia's here. She's not going anywhere."

Peter pulled back just enough to look at her, his tear-streaked face breaking Lydia's heart. "Really?" he asked, his voice small and uncertain.

"Really," Lydia said, cupping his cheek. "I'm home now. And I'm staying right here, with you, your father, and Mug. We're a family, Peter. And I love you."

Peter sniffled but managed a small smile, his arms tightening around her once more. Mug gave a little bark of agreement, wiggling in her arms before darting up to lick Peter's face. The boy laughed through his tears, and Lydia felt her own tension easing at the sound.

Elias smiled faintly, standing and lifting Peter into his arms with ease. He rested one arm around Lydia's shoulders, pulling her close. "Come on," he said, his voice warm. "Let's go inside."

With Peter still clinging to him and Lydia holding Mug, Elias guided them back toward the manor. Peter rested his head against Elias's shoulder, his small fingers clutching at his father's jacket as though afraid he might let go. Mug, meanwhile, nestled comfortably in Lydia's arms, his tail swishing in lazy contentment.

As they stepped through the front doors, the warmth and familiarity of the house embraced them. Mrs. Potts appeared almost immediately, her apron slightly askew as she hurried forward.

"Welcome home, Your Graces," she said with a relieved smile, her kind eyes flicking to Lydia. "Dinner is nearly ready."

"Thank you, Mrs. Potts," Lydia said, her voice steady despite the emotions still swirling in her chest.

Peter squirmed in Elias's arms, clearly more at ease now, though he glanced back at Lydia with wide eyes. "You're really staying?" he asked, his tone still holding a hint of worry.

"I'm really staying," Lydia said, stepping closer to place a hand on his back. "You couldn't get rid of me even if you tried."

Peter giggled, the sound light and pure, and Elias gave her a look of such quiet gratitude that it nearly stole her breath. He shifted Peter to his other arm and extended his free hand to Lydia.

She took it without hesitation, their fingers interlacing naturally. With Mug now perched on one arm and Peter resting on the other, Lydia felt a profound sense of belonging. As they walked deeper into the manor, the noise of daily life surrounded them—the clatter of dishes, the distant hum of conversation, the soft creak of floorboards—and for the first time, Lydia felt she had truly come home.