Page 25 of Duke of Fyre

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.

CHAPTER 10

Elias sat at his massive mahogany desk, staring unseeing at the papers before him. Try as he might, he couldn't focus on the estate accounts. His mind kept wandering to his new wife.

Lydia. Even her name was distracting. He'd caught himself writing it in the margins of his correspondence twice already this morning, like some lovesick schoolboy. Irritated with himself, he scratched out the offending letters with perhaps more force than necessary.

It had been three days since their wedding, and Elias found himself increasingly aware of her presence in his home. Little things kept drawing his attention – the sound of her footsteps in the corridor, the faint scent of lavender that lingered in rooms she'd occupied, the way the servants seemed to stand straighter when she passed by.

And then there was the way she looked at him, those green eyes full of questions he didn't dare answer. The memory of theirencounter outside her chambers still haunted him. The softness of her skin, the slight catch in her breath when he'd moved closer, the way her lips had parted...

Elias shook his head sharply, forcing his attention back to the ledger. This wouldn't do at all. He was the Duke of Fyre, not some romantic hero from one of those ridiculous novels his sister was always reading. He had responsibilities, duties, a reputation to maintain.

A sharp knock at his study door interrupted Elias's brooding. Without waiting for a response, Nicholas Grant strode in, looking entirely too cheerful for so early in the morning.

"Well," Nicholas said, dropping into the chair across from Elias's desk with his usual lack of ceremony. "How's married life treating you, old friend?"

Elias scowled at the interruption. "Don't you have your own estate to manage?"

"Oh, certainly," Nicholas agreed amiably. "But I couldn't resist checking in on you. Especially after hearing some rather interesting rumors about changes at Fyre Manor."

"Changes?" Elias's voice held a warning note.

"Apparently, your new duchess is quite... spirited. She and your son seem to be playing in the gardens. Playing, Elias. When was the last time Peter did anything of the sort?"

Elias's jaw tightened. "The boy needs discipline and education, not frivolous entertainments."

"The boy needs to be a boy," Nicholas countered. "Even you must see that."

"What I see," Elias said coldly, "is that my wife appears determined to upend the routine I've carefully established."

Nicholas raised an eyebrow. "And is that necessarily a bad thing? This house hasn't exactly been overflowing with joy these past years."

"Joy is hardly the point," Elias muttered, though something in his chest tightened uncomfortably. "There are expectations to maintain, standards to uphold."

"Ah yes, the mighty standards of the Duke of Fyre," Nicholas said dryly. "Heaven forbid anyone actually smile within these hallowed walls."

"If you've come merely to mock me?—"

"Not mock, my friend. Observe. With great interest, I might add. You're... different since she arrived."

Elias frowned. "Different how?"

"Less rigid, perhaps. More alive. I've even caught you almost smiling once or twice."

"Nonsense," Elias dismissed, though he found himself unable to meet his friend's knowing gaze.

"Is it? Tell me, what do you think of her?"

The question caught Elias off guard. What did he think of Lydia? She was... unsettling. Unpredictable. Everything he hadn't wanted in a duchess. And yet...

"She's... adequate," he said finally. "She seems to get along well with Peter, at least."

Nicholas snorted. "Adequate? That's all you have to say about the woman who's managed to bring more life to this mausoleum in three days than it's seen in years?"

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