Duke of Fyre (Braving the Elements #1)

Extended Epilogue

A year had passed since that spring day in London when Elias and Lydia had decided to embrace the future without fear. In the months that followed, their love and trust deepened, and their family grew in ways Lydia had never dared to dream. Now, as summer sunlight poured over the sprawling estate, the sound of laughter and bustling activity filled the air.

Lydia darted through the hallways of Fyre Manor, her skirts swishing around her ankles as she hurried from room to room. The staff were finishing the final touches in the dining room, and the garden outside had been arranged with a multitude of flowers, their blooms a riot of color. She paused briefly in the drawing room to adjust a pillow and check the arrangement of tea trays before hurrying on.

Her mind buzzed with thoughts of the afternoon ahead. Guests would be arriving soon—family and friends gathering to celebrate the christening of her and Elias's newest addition, a daughter they had named Caroline. Lydia couldn't help but smile as she thought of her, a tiny bundle of joy with Elias's dark hair and a curious nature that already made her a handful.

As Lydia entered the nursery, she found Peter leaning over the crib, whispering something to his baby sister. He glanced up when she entered, his face lighting with pride. "She smiled at me, Mama!"

"Did she?" Lydia asked, her heart swelling as she moved closer to the crib. Caroline was awake, her bright eyes watching Peter with an expression of fascination.

Peter nodded eagerly. "She likes it when I talk to her."

Lydia placed a hand on his shoulder, leaning down to kiss the top of his head. "She's lucky to have a big brother like you."

Peter grinned, his chest puffing up with pride. "And I'm lucky to have her," he said earnestly.

Before Lydia could respond, the sound of carriage wheels crunching on the gravel drive outside drew her attention. She straightened, smoothing her skirts. "Our guests are arriving," she said. "Come, Peter. Let's greet them together."

As Lydia and Peter stepped onto the front steps, she saw the familiar figure of her father helping her mother down from their carriage. Prudence's face, once so often stern and filled with disapproval, was now warm and animated. Silas, too, seemed to carry himself with a lighter air, as though the burdens of old expectations had finally lifted.

"Grandpapa! Grandmama!" Peter called, waving enthusiastically.

Prudence's face lit up as she rushed forward, wrapping Peter in an embrace that made him giggle. "There's my darling boy!" she exclaimed. "I've missed you so."

Silas followed, his smile softer but no less genuine. "Hello, Peter," he said, patting the boy's shoulder. "You've grown taller, I'm sure of it."

"Only a little," Peter replied with a grin.

Prudence turned to Lydia, her eyes shining with emotion. "You've done a wonderful job, my dear," she said, taking her daughter's hands. "Everything looks perfect."

"Thank you, Mother," Lydia said, her heart warming at the compliment.

"And where is my granddaughter?" Prudence asked eagerly.

"She's in the nursery," Lydia replied, gesturing toward the house. "Shall I—"

Before she could finish, Prudence and Silas were already heading inside, their excitement evident. Lydia exchanged a glance with Peter, who laughed and shook his head. "They really love her," he said.

"They do," Lydia agreed, her voice soft. "They love both of you."

Inside the nursery, Prudence was cooing over Caroline, her hands gentle as she cradled the baby. Silas stood nearby, his large hands surprisingly delicate as he adjusted the blanket around her. Lydia watched from the doorway, her heart swelling as she saw her parents transformed by the role of grandparents.

"She's perfect," Prudence whispered, her voice filled with wonder. "Absolutely perfect."

"Just like her mother was," Silas said, glancing at Lydia with a smile that held no trace of his former rigidity.

Lydia's throat tightened, and she nodded, unable to speak for a moment. It was hard to reconcile these warm, doting figures with the parents she had grown up with—but she had come to realize that love had a way of softening even the hardest edges.

From behind her, Elias approached silently, his steps sure but light. He rested a hand on her lower back, and she turned to find him watching her with that quiet intensity that always made her feel like the most important person in the world.

"They've changed," Lydia murmured, tilting her head toward her parents.

"They have," Elias agreed, his voice low. "Perhaps Caroline reminded them of what truly matters."

Lydia smiled, leaning into him slightly. "She has a way of doing that, doesn't she?"

Elias's gaze lingered on her, his expression softening. "You have a way of doing that," he said. "For me, for Peter, for all of us."

Her heart skipped a beat, and she reached for his hand, threading her fingers through his. Elias held her hand firmly, his thumb brushing gently over her knuckles. For a moment, the bustle of the house faded into the background, leaving just the two of them standing together in quiet intimacy.

"Do you know what I see when I look at you, Lydia?" he asked softly, his voice just for her.

She tilted her head, her lips curving into a small, curious smile. "What?"

"My heart," he said simply. "Every piece of it. You've made this house a home, our family whole."

Lydia's cheeks flushed, but she didn't look away. Instead, she squeezed his hand, her voice steady. "And you've given me the freedom to be myself. To build a life I never thought I could have."

Elias bent down, brushing his lips across her forehead in a gesture so tender it sent a shiver through her. "I'll never stop being grateful for you, Lydia. For every choice that brought us here."

Before she could respond, Prudence's voice called out from the nursery. "Elias! Come and see your daughter before we spoil her with too much attention."

He chuckled, a deep, warm sound that Lydia felt in her chest. "Duty calls," he murmured, though his gaze lingered on her for a moment longer before he stepped into the nursery.

Lydia followed, standing quietly at the doorway as she watched her parents fawning over Caroline. Silas gently rocked her cradle while Prudence hummed softly, her once formal demeanor replaced with something purely maternal. Meanwhile, Elias stood beside them, a look of pride and affection on his face as he gazed at his daughter.

Peter, ever the watchful older brother, peeked into the cradle and announced, "She's going to like me the most. I already know it."

Prudence laughed, brushing a kiss to his forehead. "You'll be the best big brother she could ask for."

Lydia leaned against the doorframe, her arms crossed lightly as she watched the scene. There was no pretense here, no pressure to fit a mold or live up to impossible expectations. This was her family—imperfect, sometimes messy, but brimming with love.

She felt Elias's eyes on her again and turned to see him watching her with that same quiet intensity. As if drawn together by an invisible thread, he crossed the room to her side, leaving Silas and Prudence to dote on the children.

"They're fussing enough for all of us," Elias said, his voice low with amusement. "Perhaps we should sneak away before we're caught in their enthusiasm."

Lydia laughed softly, slipping her hand into his. "Tempting," she replied. "But I wouldn't trade this moment for anything."

Elias leaned closer, his lips brushing against her ear. "You know," he murmured, his tone dropping to a playful whisper, "I've decided I rather like seeing your father nervous around me."

Lydia stifled a laugh, her eyes sparkling. "He's not nervous," she said. But then she glanced at Silas, who stood a little straighter whenever Elias moved, and reconsidered. "Well, maybe just a little."

Elias's grin widened, but his voice softened again. "Let him be. He's earned his place here, as have we all."

Lydia rested her head briefly against his shoulder, her smile fading into something more contemplative. "We're happy, Elias. Truly happy."

"And we'll keep it that way," he said, his tone carrying the weight of a promise.

As the evening wore on, guests filled the manor, and laughter and conversation echoed through its grand halls. Lydia moved gracefully among them, greeting friends and family alike while keeping an eye on Peter, who was showing off his toy soldiers to anyone who would listen. Caroline remained in her cradle, content and adored, while Mug followed Peter closely, clearly feeling the need to supervise.

Later, when the guests had left and the house grew quiet, Lydia found herself in the nursery once more. Caroline slept soundly in her crib, her tiny hand curled around a soft blanket. Peter, having long since retired to bed, was sprawled across his mattress, Mug snuggled at his feet.

Elias entered the room, his presence filling the space with warmth. He wrapped an arm around Lydia's waist, pulling her close as they stood by the crib.

"She's perfect," Lydia whispered, her eyes on Caroline.

"She is," Elias agreed. "Just like her mother."

Lydia turned to him, her heart full. "And her father."

Elias cupped her face in his hands, his gaze steady and full of love. "Our family is everything to me, Lydia. You, Peter, Caroline… you're my whole world."

Tears filled her eyes, but they were tears of joy. Lydia reached up, resting her hands over his. "And you're ours, Elias. I never imagined I could have this—this life, this happiness. But you gave it to me."

He smiled softly, his thumbs brushing her cheeks. "We gave it to each other."

As the warmth of his words settled over her, Elias leaned down and kissed her, slow and tender, as if sealing the unspoken promises between them. For a moment, the world outside the nursery disappeared, leaving only the two of them and the quiet presence of their children.

When they parted, Elias glanced back at the crib, his expression softening further. "We should get some rest before they wake us again."

Lydia laughed quietly, knowing he was right. "You're becoming quite the practical father," she teased.

"Practical? No," Elias said, his tone light but affectionate. "Prepared? Absolutely."

Hand in hand, they stepped out of the nursery, pausing briefly to peek into Peter's room. The boy was sound asleep, his face serene and angelic in the soft moonlight streaming through the window. Mug's tail twitched faintly, though he didn't stir from his spot at Peter's feet.

Lydia sighed contentedly as they walked down the hall together. "Do you ever think about how far we've come?" she asked. "How different everything was just a few years ago?"

Elias nodded, his grip on her hand tightening slightly. "Every day," he admitted. "And I wouldn't change a moment of it. Even the difficult parts brought us here."

Lydia rested her head on his shoulder as they reached their bedroom, feeling the weight of the day giving way to a profound sense of peace. "I never thought I could feel this complete," she said softly. "But here we are."

Elias opened the door, guiding her inside and closing it gently behind them. "Here we are," he repeated, his voice low and steady. "And it's just the beginning."

As they settled into the quiet comfort of their room, Lydia knew he was right. Their journey had been full of challenges, but it had brought them to a place of love, resilience, and happiness that felt unshakable. Together, they had built a family—a future—and the promise of all the days to come felt as bright and endless as the stars beyond the window.

With Elias's arms wrapped around her, Lydia closed her eyes, her heart full of gratitude. Whatever lay ahead, she knew they would face it together, bound by a love that had only grown stronger with time.

And in that thought, she found all the peace she would ever need.

The End