Page 32 of Duke of Fyre

Peter beamed at the compliment, then turned to Lydia with a slightly mischievous grin. "Does this count as a lesson? Since I'm learning important things about managing the estate?"

"Nice try," Lydia laughed, ruffling his hair. "But I believe Miss Nancy is still expecting you for mathematics this morning."

Later, after lessons were complete and their daily hour of play had been spent building an elaborate fort in the library (with strict rules about treating the books with respect), Lydia found herself sitting with Peter in the garden while he sketched the flowerbeds.

"Lydia?" he asked, not looking up from his drawing. "Are you happy here? At Fyre Manor, I mean?"

The question caught her off guard. "Of course I am. Why do you ask?"

Peter shrugged, adding careful details to a rose. "It's just... it can be quite gloomy sometimes. And Father can be... well, Father.But you've made everything brighter somehow. Not just the rooms, but... everything."

Lydia felt her throat tighten with emotion. "Oh, darling. You've made everything brighter for me too, you know."

"Really?" He looked up at her then, hope shining in his eyes.

"Really," she assured him. "You and your father and even this grand old house – you've all become very dear to me."

"Even Father?" Peter asked innocently, though there was a knowing gleam in his eye that made him look remarkably like his father.

"Yes, even your father," Lydia admitted, feeling her cheeks warm. "When he's not being unnecessarily stern about Mug's gardening habits."

Peter giggled, then grew serious. "I'm glad you came here," he said softly. "Even if it was just because Father needed a duchess."

"Oh, Peter," Lydia pulled him close, pressing a kiss to his curls. "I'm glad I came too. So very glad."

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, Peter drawing while Lydia worked on her embroidery. Mug chased butterflies through the garden, occasionally bringing them interesting leaves or sticks he'd discovered.

"Do you think Father misses us?" Peter asked suddenly. "Even a little?"

"Of course," Lydia said automatically, though a thin frown appeared between her brows. In all truth, she had not thought much of her husband since he's been gone – much less of whether he missed them.

She was certain that he did not miss her – or notice her absence from him – in the slightest.

But surely, she told herself, he had to miss his son?

"I know he misses you," she insisted now, though Peter looked at her quite doubtfully. She leaned forward and tapped her index finger against his nose. "He must miss you! After all, I would!"

"I don't think he does," Peter said simply. "But I'd miss you if you were gone."

Lydia didn't know quite how to respond to that, so she simply hugged Peter closer and turned her face to the warm summer sun. Together, they watched Mug chase another butterfly, their laughter echoing through the gardens of Fyre Manor.

The house, she realized, no longer felt like a strange place she was trying to fit into. Somewhere along the way, it had become home. Her eyes found Peter again – his face scrunched up in thought, and her heart ached for the boy.

"Peter," she said softly, her voice gently. "What do you say we play another game?"

Just like that, his face lit up and Lydia flashed him a true smile. At least one person at Fyre Manor wanted her there, she could not help but think – a rather melancholic thought, but one that faded when Peter's face broke open into a smile.

CHAPTER 14

"And then the pirate queen discovered that the treasure wasn't gold at all," Lydia said, watching Peter's face light up with anticipation, "but something far more precious..."

"What was it?" Peter leaned forward in his seat by the library window, completely absorbed in the tale. Even Mug had stopped chasing dust motes to listen, his head tilted to one side.

"Books!" Lydia declared dramatically. "An entire library of ancient knowledge, preserved in a magical cave beneath the waves."

Peter's eyes widened. "Like Father's library?"

"Similar, though perhaps with fewer treatises on proper estate management," Lydia teased, reaching out to ruffle his curls. The afternoon sun streamed through the newly lightened curtains,catching the golden highlights in Peter's hair and making him look, for a moment, like a fairy-tale prince.

---