Page 63 of Duke of Fyre

"—vase of roses. Honestly, what did you think I was going to say?" Lydia's eyes twinkled as she led her thoroughly unsettled sisters down the hall, their parents following at a more sedate pace while trying to maintain their dignity.

"You've gotten quite wicked since becoming a duchess," Jane observed admiringly, once their parents were out of earshot. "Does living with the Beast of Fyre do that to a person?"

"Jane!" Marian scolded, but her own curiosity was evident. "Though since you mentioned it..."

Lydia just smiled, ushering them into the drawing room. Living with the Beast indeed. If they only knew…

"Come," she invited gently. "Let us withdraw to the parlor and I shall have Mrs. Winters bring us tea."

With giggles, her sisters followed her to the parlor while her parents trailed behind rather dourly. Once seated and armed with their tea, Lydia leaned back ever so slightly and a smile played around her lips as she listened to the conversation around her.

"You should have seen him at Lady Morrison's tea," Jane was saying, her eyes dancing with mischief. "Poor Mr. Harrison nearly spilled his cup when Marian smiled at him!"

"I did no such thing," Marian protested, though her cheeks pinked prettily. "He was merely... startled by our new footman's sudden appearance."

"Oh yes, entirely startled by the dog," Jane winked at Lydia. "That's why he's called on us three times this week alone!"

Lydia smiled, warmed by her sister's obvious happiness. "And he's a respectable gentleman? With good prospects?"

"Very respectable," Marian assured her. "Though not quite as... elevated as your match, of course."

"Elevation isn't everything," Lydia said softly, thinking of Elias's rare smiles, the way his eyes softened when he looked at Peter. "The heart wants what it wants."

"Speaking of wants," Jane's voice dropped to a whisper, "that odious Mr. Blackwood is still pursuing Diana, despite Father telling him she's not interested."

Diana squirmed uncomfortably. "He's not so bad, really. Just... persistent."

"Persistent?" Jane's eyes flashed. "He followed you home from church last Sunday! And I caught him lurking in the garden Tuesday morning. It's becoming frightening."

Lydia sat up straighter, concern sharpening her voice. "Diana, why didn't you tell me? This is serious."

"I didn't want to worry you," Diana mumbled, studying her hands. "You have so much to manage here, and it's not really..."

"Nonsense." Lydia reached for her sister's hands. "I'm still your big sister, duchess or not. In fact..." She smiled suddenly. "Being a duchess might be rather useful in this situation. Why don't you all stay with us for a while? We could host some small gatherings, introduce you to more suitable gentlemen..."

"Really?" Diana's face lit up. "You'd do that?"

"Of course! And I'm sure Elias wouldn't mind advancing some funds for new gowns, if needed. You're my sisters – your happiness matters to me."

"Oh, Lydia!" Jane threw her arms around her. "You're the best sister ever! Though..." She pulled back, grinning. "Does this mean we have to call you 'Your Grace' now?"

"Only in public," Lydia laughed. "And only if you want me to tell Mr. Harrison about the time you tried to teach Marian's cat to dance."

"You wouldn't dare!"

"Try me, little sister."

Their laughter drew a sharp look from their mother. "Really, girls," Prudence said acidly. "Such unseemly behavior. Though I suppose we can't expect better, given the example being set."

"I beg your pardon?" Lydia's voice cooled considerably.

"Well, my dear," her mother's tone dripped false concern, "one does wonder about your... priorities. All this frivolity when you should be focusing on your primary duty. Unless..." Her eyes narrowed speculatively. "Have you and His Grace even attempted to produce an heir?"

The room went deathly quiet. Lydia felt her sisters tense beside her, saw her father shift uncomfortably in his chair.

"Mother!" Marian gasped. "You can't just ask such things!"

"Why not? It's a perfectly reasonable question. After all, she's been married for months now, and still no signs of..." The Viscountess gestured vaguely. "One begins to wonder if she's even trying. Or if perhaps His Grace finds her... lacking in some way."

---