Page 15 of Duke of Fyre

The words, meant to be encouraging, felt like a weight on Lydia's shoulders. She had always strived to meet her mother's exacting standards, had pushed herself to excel in every area of a lady's education. But this - marriage to a virtual stranger, the weight of an entire duchy on her shoulders - this was beyond anything she had ever faced before.

As she retreated to her room, Lydia's mind whirled with all she had learned, all she still didn't know. The mechanics of producing an heir, vaguely explained through metaphors of flowers and bees, seemed both terrifying and oddly anticlimactic. Was that truly all there was to it?

CHAPTER 6

The heavy oak door of Elias Blacknight's bedchamber groaned as he pushed it open, his shoulders sagging with exhaustion. After a day of grueling business negotiations, all he craved was solitude and a glass of brandy. Instead, he found the Marquess of Stone, Nicholas Grant, pacing before the fireplace like a caged lion.

"Nicholas?" Elias said, surprise momentarily overtaking his fatigue. "What in Heaven's name are you doing here?"

Nicholas whirled to face him, his usually jovial face set in lines of fury. "What am I doing here? What are you doing getting married without so much as a word to your oldest friend?"

Elias sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He should have known word would reach Nicholas eventually, but he'd hoped for a few more days of peace before this particular inquisition.

"I see news travels fast," he said dryly, moving to pour himself that much-needed brandy. "Would you care for a drink?"

"Don't try to distract me with alcohol, Elias," Nicholas snapped, though he held out his hand for a glass nonetheless. "When exactly were you planning to tell me about this... this... sudden union ?"

Elias took a long sip of his brandy, savoring the burn as it slid down his throat. "I hadn't given it much thought, to be honest. It's merely a necessary transaction, nothing more."

Nicholas's eyes widened in disbelief. "A necessary transaction? Elias, you're getting married! To a woman you've barely met, if the rumors are to be believed. How can you be so cavalier about this?"

"Because it's not a matter of great importance," Elias replied, his tone maddeningly calm in the face of Nicholas's agitation. "It's an hour in a church, some paperwork to sign, and then life goes on as usual. I fail to see why you're making such a fuss."

Nicholas threw up his hands in exasperation. "An hour in a church? Elias, you obtuse fool, you're taking a wife! A living, breathing woman who will share your home, your name, your life. How can you not see the significance of that?"

Elias's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. "I see the significance perfectly well, Nicholas. I'm gaining a mother for my son and a mistress for my household. That is the extent of it."

"The extent of it?" Nicholas repeated, incredulity coloring his voice. "Goodness, man, do you hear yourself? This isn't like hiring a new housekeeper. You're bringing a young woman into your home, into your life. She'll be the Duchess of Fyre, for heaven's sake!"

Elias set down his glass with more force than necessary, a hint of irritation finally breaking through his calm facade. "I'm well aware of what I'm doing, Nicholas. I don't need you to explain the basics of marriage to me. It will not be my first."

Nicholas took a deep breath, visibly trying to calm himself. When he spoke again, his voice was quieter, tinged with concern rather than anger. "Elias, my friend, I'm worried about you. This isn't like you, making such a momentous decision so... hastily. What's really going on?"

For a long moment, Elias was silent, staring into the depths of his brandy glass as if it held the answers to all life's mysteries. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, almost vulnerable.

"It's Peter," he said softly. "He's been... struggling lately. More withdrawn, less interested in his studies. I've heard him crying at night when he thinks no one can hear."

Nicholas's expression softened. "The boy longs for his mother."

Elias nodded, a shadow passing over his face. "He needs a mother's love, Nicholas. Something I... something I can't provide."

"And you think marrying a stranger will solve that?" Nicholas asked gently.

Elias shrugged, a gesture so unlike his usual confident demeanor that Nicholas felt a pang of worry for his friend. "What else can I do? I've tried everything else. Tutors, governesses, even that blasted dog he begged for last Christmas. Nothing helps. He needs a mother, and I... I need a wife to run the household. It's a sensible solution."

Nicholas sighed, moving to place a hand on Elias's shoulder. "Oh, my friend. I understand your intentions are good, but have you considered what this might mean for the young lady in question? To be thrust into a ready-made family, expected to mother a child she's never met?"

Elias's jaw tightened. "Lady Lydia understood the terms when she agreed to the marriage. She knows what will be expected of her."

"Lady Lydia," Nicholas mused. "So that's her name. Tell me about her, Elias. What's she like?"

For a moment, Elias seemed at a loss. "She's... young. Well-bred. Comes from a good family. I'm told she's accomplished in all the ways a lady should be."

Nicholas raised an eyebrow. "And? What else?"

Elias frowned. "What else is there to know? She'll be a suitable mother for Peter and a capable mistress of Fyre Manor. That's all that matters."

Nicholas shook his head, exasperatedly, a trace of pity in his eyes. "Oh, Elias. There's so much more to marriage than that. What of companionship? Shared interests? The possibility of love?"

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