Page 18 of Duke of Fyre

Tears welled up in Peter's eyes, and before Elias knew what was happening, the boy had launched himself into his arms. Elias stiffened for a moment, unused to such displays of affection, but then he slowly, carefully, wrapped his arms around his son in a clumsy embrace.

"I love you, Father," Peter mumbled into his shoulder.

Elias felt a lump form in his throat. "Yes, yes very well, Peter," he whispered, the words rising up to his throat but stubbornly refusing to leave his lips.

After a long moment, Elias gently pulled back, his hands resting on Peter's shoulders. "Now, about this drawing of yours," he said, his voice gruff with emotion. "I think we should have it framed. It deserves to be displayed properly, don't you think?"

Peter's eyes widened with delight. "Really? You mean it?"

Elias nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Indeed. In fact, why don't we go into town tomorrow and choose a frame together? We can make an afternoon of it."

"Just... just the two of us?" Peter asked, hope evident in his voice.

"Just the two of us," Elias confirmed. "And perhaps... perhaps you can show me some of the birds you've been observing. I'd like to see them through your eyes."

The smile that lit up Peter's face was brighter than any Elias had seen in years. It stirred something in him, a long-dormant desire to be the father his son deserved.

As Elias bid Peter goodnight and returned to his own chambers, he found himself facing his reflection in the mirror above his dresser. The man who stared back at him was one he scarcely recognized - not the cold, distant Duke of Fyre, but a father who was trying, however imperfectly, to connect with his son.

He thought of Lady Lydia, the woman who would soon be joining their small, broken family. What would she make of them? Would she see past his gruff exterior, past the rumors and whispers that surrounded him? Could she be the missing piece that would help them become whole?

Elias shook his head, chiding himself for such fanciful thoughts. This was to be a marriage of convenience, nothing more. And yet... and yet he couldn't help but feel a flicker of hope. Hope that perhaps, just perhaps, this union might bring more than juststability to Fyre Manor. At least for Peter, he hoped, she could bring some warmth.

A dry smile appeared on his face as he thought of the dog she so seemed to adore. In the single note she had sent him since they had agreed to marry, she had only begged for the animal to join her here at the manor. Of course, his first instinct had been to refuse but now… Elias shrugged and sighed. Perhaps the animal too, for he was hardly able to honestly call it a dog, could bring something that his home quite lacked: laughter. A frown darkened his brow.

He could honestly not remember the last time there had been boundless laughter in this home. Of course, he had never been one to think lightly of life… but Peter was still a boy. He was certain that the animal would bring him joy, he decided now.

For the first time since agreeing to this marriage, Elias felt a spark of curiosity about his bride-to-be. Perhaps Nicholas was right. Perhaps he should give her a chance, allow her to surprise him.

With that thought in mind, Elias moved to his desk and pulled out a sheet of paper. It had been years since he'd written a personal letter, but he felt compelled to respond to Lady Lydia's earlier request with a warmer answer.

"Dear Lady Lydia," he began, his pen hovering uncertainly over the paper. "I do hope you are quite well and that you are adequately prepared for our impending marriage. Peter and I…" He paused and frowned. It would be quite dishonest to claimthat they were looking forward to receiving her here. Instead, he had to admit that he was rather apprehensive - though that was not something he would say.

"Peter and I are quite prepared to receive you here. I have considered once again your request with regard to bringing your pet along to the manor. After giving it much thought and taking into account what the desires of my son would be, I have decided to grant that permission after all. Mug, if I am not mistaken, is more than welcome at the manor."

Elias sighed and shook his head. He had no idea how to set the poor woman's mind completely at ease. "I hope that you will find joy," he continued "and fulfillment in your journey here at the manor."

As he signed the letter, Elias felt a weight lift from his shoulders. It wasn't much, perhaps, but it was a start. A first step towards the future that awaited them all.

Setting the letter aside to be sent in the morning, Elias finally retired to bed. As he drifted off to sleep, his dreams were no longer haunted by ghosts of the past, but filled with tentative hopes for the future. A future that, for the first time in years, didn't seem quite so bleak and lonely.

Tomorrow would bring him one day closer to his wedding, one day closer to a new chapter in the story of the Duke of Fyre. And while challenges undoubtedly lay ahead, Elias found himself, against all odds, looking forward to turning the page.

CHAPTER 7

The small church was awash with the soft glow of candlelight, the air heavy with the scent of lilies and anticipation. Lydia stood just outside the doors, her heart pounding a frantic rhythm against her ribs. She smoothed down the front of her gown for the hundredth time, the ivory silk cool beneath her trembling fingers.

"Are you ready, my dear?" her father asked softly, offering his arm.

Lydia took a deep breath, squaring her shoulders. "Yes, Papa. I'm ready."

As the doors swung open and the first notes of the wedding march filled the air, Lydia felt as though she were stepping into a dream. The faces of the small gathering blurred as she focused on the figure standing at the altar. Elias Blacknight, the Duke of Fyre, cut an imposing figure in his dark coat, his raven hair gleaming in the candlelight.

As Lydia drew closer, she felt her breath catch in her throat. Elias's eyes, those piercing blue orbs that had haunted her dreams, were fixed upon her with an intensity that made her pulse quicken. Was it her imagination, or did those eyes darken as they swept over her form?

When she reached the altar, her father placed her hand in Elias's. The Duke's fingers were warm and strong, and Lydia felt a jolt of electricity at the contact. She was rather certain that she noticed at least some surprise in the Duke's eyes as well - at least for a second, before he rearranged his expression into one of indifference again.

The vicar began the ceremony, his voice a soothing drone in the background as Lydia struggled to focus. She was acutely aware of Elias beside her, of the subtle scent of sandalwood that clung to him, of the way his thumb absently brushed against her knuckles.

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