Page 60 of Duke of Fyre

The two of them shared a laugh, surrounded by the spoils of Lydia's thoughtful journey, and for a moment, all the world outside the manor seemed to fade away—replaced by the warmth of family, the joy of giving, and the promise of many more adventures yet to come.

"Did you really get all these just for me?" Peter asked, his voice small with wonder, his eyes wide.

"Of course I did," Lydia replied, pulling him close for another hug. "I missed you terribly, you know. London was quite dull without my favorite pirate."

"Even with all the balls and fancy parties?" Peter asked, looking up at her with an expression full of hope.

"Especially then!" Lydia laughed, her fingers brushing through his curls. "Do you know, not a single person there knew the proper way to spot approaching enemy vessels? Most shocking." She tapped his nose playfully. "I kept thinking how much more fun it would be if you were there to teach them."

Peter giggled, his shoulders shaking with amusement, but then his expression softened. "I missed you too. And Father, though..." He hesitated, as though weighing his words. "Though I suppose he was too busy for missing."

Lydia's smile faltered for just a moment, then she straightened. "I assure you he wasn't," she said firmly. "He asked about you every single day. Didn't he, Miss Nancy?"

The governess nodded, her eyes softening. "Indeed. His Grace was most particular about receiving regular reports of your progress."

Peter brightened a little at that, though still uncertain. "Really?"

"Really," Lydia said with a wink. "Now then, shall we try out those new crayons? I believe that lovely white paper is simply begging for some color."

They moved to the table, spreading out the art supplies. Mug, of course, couldn't resist "helping" by running off with crayons now and then, presenting them to Peter with great ceremony, his fur damp from the frequent drops into water bowls.

"What shall we draw?" Peter asked, already testing colors on a spare sheet of paper.

"Whatever inspires you," Lydia said, leaning over his shoulder to peer at the paper. "Though I did notice you looking particularly thoughtful during our garden adventures last week..."

Peter's face lit up. "Oh! Yes, I had an idea..." His tongue caught between his teeth in concentration as he bent over the paper. "See, I thought... if we had the manor here, and the garden paths leading down... and here, this is where we play pirates..."

Lydia watched in awe as Peter's drawing began to take shape. There was a rawness to it, a wonderful energy, in how he captured the sprawling manor and the neat garden paths. The scene was alive with motion and color, even before Peter had finished.

"Is that... us?" Lydia asked softly, the words slipping out before she could stop them.

Peter nodded, his crayon carefully adding more details. "See? There's me, and you with your skirts all swirly, like when you're telling stories. And Father..." He paused, crayon hovering uncertainly. "Though I don't think he'd want to be in a picture about pirates..."

Lydia's heart squeezed at the uncertainty in his voice. "I think," she said carefully, "that your father might surprise you. In fact..." She studied the drawing thoughtfully. "I think he should see this. It's quite remarkable, you know."

Peter's face fell slightly, his shoulders slumping. "Oh, no, I couldn't... Father's too busy for..."

"Nonsense," Lydia said, her tone warm but firm. "He's never too busy for something this important. Come along, darling."

"But..." Peter bit his lip, nervous again.

"What if he doesn't like it?"

"Then clearly the Beast of Fyre needs his eyes examined," Lydia said with a wink, trying to lighten the moment.

Peter giggled despite his nerves. "Alright... if you say so."

Hand in hand, they made their way to Elias's study. Lydia knocked firmly before Peter could lose his nerve.

"Enter," Elias's voice called, distracted but with a note of curiosity.

Lydia squeezed Peter's hand gently as they stepped inside. "Your Grace? We have something to show you."

Elias looked up from his papers, his brow furrowed in mild confusion as he took in their presence. The afternoon sunlight streamed through the study windows, casting a warm glow over his dark hair, streaked with silver at the temples, making his face appear almost timeless despite the tension between his brow.

"I'm rather busy at the moment..." he began, though the words softened when he noticed the paper in Peter's hand.

"This won't take long," Lydia said gently, giving Peter a reassuring nudge forward. "Go on, darling. Show your father what you've made."

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