Page 23 of Duke of Fyre

But it wasn't just the unfamiliar sounds that kept her awake. It was the weight of everything that had changed in a single day. This morning, she had woken in her childhood bed, surrounded by the comfortable chaos of her sisters' chatter. Now she lay in a stranger's bed, in a stranger's house, married to a man who was still very much a mystery to her.

Mug whined again, and Lydia reached down to scratch his ears. "At least I have you, my friend," she murmured. The little dog's presence was remarkably comforting in the vastness of her new chambers.

A particularly loud creak made her start, and she found herself wondering what Elias was doing. Was he still awake in his chambers across the manor? Did he lie awake at night, listening to these same sounds? Or had he grown so accustomed to them that he no longer noticed?

The thought of her husband brought a flush to her cheeks as she remembered their encounter outside her door. The way he had looked at her, the heat in his eyes before he'd turned away... Lydia pulled her pillow over her face, as if to hide her blush from the darkness itself.

"Stop that," she scolded herself. "This is a marriage of convenience, nothing more. The Duke made that perfectly clear."

But as she finally drifted off to sleep, her dreams were filled with midnight blue eyes and the scent of sandalwood, and the echo of a voice that made her shiver even in sleep.

She woke rather early the next morning – to a house that was far too quiet to be comfortable. With a sigh, Lydia dressed before heading out to find her husband, her new son or even any of the servants. She found the boy first – in the schoolchamber, where he sat hunched over his Latin grammar. His small face was scrunched in concentration, his golden curls falling into his eyes as he carefully formed each letter.

Lydia paused in the doorway, taking a moment to observe her new stepson. He looked so serious, so proper – far too proper for a child of ten. A woman stood nearby, her graying hair pulled back in a severe bun, watching Peter's progress with hawk-like attention.

"Good morning," Lydia said softly, not wanting to startle them.

Both heads snapped up at her voice. Peter immediately jumped to his feet, offering a small bow. "Good morning, Your Grace – I mean, Lydia," he corrected himself, a faint blush coloring his cheeks.

The woman – whom Lydia could only assume to be Miss Nancy, the governess – curtsied deeply. "Your Grace. We weren't expecting you this morning."

Lydia smiled warmly, moving further into the room. "Please, there's no need for such formality. I thought I might observe Peter's lessons, if that's acceptable?"

Miss Nancy's lips tightened almost imperceptibly. "His Grace is most particular about Master Peter's education. We follow a very strict schedule..."

"Of course," Lydia said smoothly, settling into a nearby chair. "I wouldn't dream of disrupting it. Please, carry on as if I weren't here."

Peter returned to his work, though Lydia noticed his posture was even more rigid than before. She watched as he labored over his translations, his small hand gripping the pen so tightly his knuckles turned white.

After several minutes of tense silence, broken only by the scratch of Peter's pen, Lydia couldn't contain herself any longer. "Perhaps," she suggested gently, "we might take a short break? The weather is lovely today."

"Oh, we couldn't possibly," Miss Nancy said quickly. "His Grace insists that Master Peter complete his morning studies without interruption. Education is of paramount importance to the Duke."

Lydia glanced at Peter, noting the way his shoulders had slumped at the governess's words. "Surely a brief respite would do more good than harm? All work and no play makes for a dull mind, after all."

Peter's head lifted slightly, hope flickering across his features before being quickly suppressed. "Father says play is for common children," he said quietly. "A future duke must focus on his studies."

Something in Lydia's heart cracked at those words. She rose from her chair, moving to kneel beside Peter's chair. "Do you know what I think?" she said conspiratorially. "I think future dukes need to know how to have fun too. How else will they understand their people?"

Miss Nancy made a small sound of protest. "Your Grace, I really must object. The Duke was very clear about Master Peter's schedule."

"Then I shall take full responsibility," Lydia declared, rising to her feet. "Come along, Peter. I believe I saw some excellent climbing trees in the garden. Perfect for a pirate's lookout, wouldn't you say?"

Peter's eyes widened. "Pirates?" he whispered, as if the very word might summon his father's disapproval.

"Oh yes," Lydia said, warming to her theme. "Fearsome pirates searching for buried treasure. And look – we even have a properfirst mate!" She gestured to Mug, who had wandered in and was wagging his tail enthusiastically.

"But... but my Latin..." Peter protested weakly, though Lydia could see the excitement building in his eyes.

"Latin will still be here when we return," Lydia assured him. "Sometimes the best lessons happen outside of books. Miss Nancy, won't you join us? We could use a wise navigator."

The governess looked torn between her duty to follow the Duke's instructions and her obvious affection for her young charge. "The Duke will not be pleased," she warned.

"Let me worry about the Duke," Lydia said firmly. "Peter needs this. Please?"

After a moment's hesitation, Miss Nancy's stern expression softened. "Well... I suppose a short break couldn't hurt. But only thirty minutes!"

Peter's face lit up with joy, transforming him from a miniature adult into the child he truly was. "Really? We can really play pirates?"

---