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Marian shushed her, but Diana nodded agreement. "It's so unlike Lydia. She's always been so... practical."

"That's exactly why she's doing it," Marian said softly. "Because she is practical. Do not be foolish, sister. She is doing this for us… for our futures."

Behind the dressing screen, Lydia heard snippets of her sisters' conversation. She closed her eyes, remembering the humiliation of her first season. The whispers, pitying glances, dance cards stubbornly empty. It was then, in her mortification, that she'd vowed to become the perfect lady, marry well, and restore her family's social standing.

"Lift your arms, please, my lady," Madame Hughes instructed, interrupting Lydia's thoughts. Obeying, Lydia caught herreflection. The half-pinned gown was already a marvel of silk and lace. She'd be a vision on her wedding day, she was certain.

"What do you think, mes cheries?" Madame Hughes called to Lydia's sisters. "Shall we show them?"

As Lydia emerged from behind the screen, her sisters gasped. For a moment, their worries seemed forgotten as they crowded around, exclaiming over the gown's exquisite details.

"Oh, Lydia," Diana breathed, "you look like a princess!"

"Better than a princess," Jane corrected, her usual mischief returning. "You look like a duchess."

Lydia smiled, admiring herself in the full-length mirror. "It's perfect," she said softly. "Absolutely perfect."

As Madame Hughes adjusted the gown's train, Jane's voice piped up, tinged with laughter. "Remember, Lydia, when you first started learning the pianoforte? I thought my ears would bleed!"

Diana giggled, covering her mouth. "Oh, yes! It sounded like a cat being strangled. But she wouldn't give up, would she? Practiced hours daily until she could play Beethoven in her sleep."

"Or when she decided she must master embroidery," Marian added, smiling fondly. "Remember how she pricked her fingers so often she could barely hold her teacup?"

Lydia's cheeks flushed, but she laughed along with her sisters. "Well," she said, lifting her chin proudly, "all that practice paid off, didn't it? I'd like to see any of you play a concerto or embroider a handkerchief half as well as I can now."

"That's our Lydia," Jane said affectionately. "Never gives up, no matter how difficult the task."

As her sisters reminisced about her self-improvement attempts, Lydia felt a surge of determination. They were right - she never gave up, regardless of the challenge. This marriage, this new life as a duchess, would be no different.

She'd vowed to be the perfect lady, which meant more than mastering social graces. It meant making advantageous connections, restoring her family's reputation, and providing an heir for her new husband. The thought warmed her cheeks, but she pushed aside any embarrassment or trepidation. This was her duty, and she'd fulfill it with grace and determination.

"You know," Marian said thoughtfully, "I think this marriage might be good for Lydia after all. If anyone can tame the Beast of Fyre, it's our stubborn sister."

Jane nodded, eyes glinting mischievously. "True. Remember when she decided to learn sidesaddle riding? Father said it was too dangerous, but Lydia wouldn't hear of it."

"Oh, I remember," Diana chimed in. "She fell off so many times, I thought she'd be black and blue forever. But she kept getting back on that horse, day after day."

Lydia smiled at the memory. "And now I can outride all of you, can't I?"

"That's not the point," Marian said gently. "The point is, you never give up, Lydia. No matter how difficult or scary something might be, you face it unflinchingly . That's why I think... I think you might be exactly what the Duke of Fyre needs."

Lydia felt a warm glow of pride at her sister's words. "Thank you, Marian. I intend to be the best wife and duchess I can be. The Duke may be intimidating, but I'm determined to make this marriage work."

"But Lydia," Diana said hesitantly, "what if... what if he's cruel? What if the rumors are true?"

Lydia turned to face her youngest sister, her expression serious. "Diana, I've met the Duke. He's stern, yes, and perhaps a bit cold, but he's not cruel. I believe there's more to him than the rumors suggest. And I intend to discover what that is."

Jane raised an eyebrow. "And if you can't? If he truly is the beast everyone says he is?"

Lydia lifted her chin, a determined glint in her eye. "Then I'll simply have to tame him, won't I? After all, I managed to tamethat wild mare Father bought last spring. How much harder can a duke be?"

Her sisters laughed, the tension in the room finally breaking. As Madame Hughes returned with a selection of veils, the conversation turned to lighter topics - flowers for the bouquet, music for the ceremony, the guest list for the wedding breakfast.

As she stood there, surrounded by tulle and silk, Lydia's mind raced with plans for her future. She would be the perfect duchess, of that she was certain. She would charm the ton, host magnificent parties, and bring honor to the Fyre name. And perhaps, in time, she might even find a way to warm the Duke's cold heart.

"Lydia," Marian said softly, drawing her attention back to the present, "are you happy? Truly?"

Lydia paused, considering the question. Was she happy? Perhaps not in the way romantic novels described, with hearts aflutter and cheeks aglow. But there was satisfaction in knowing she was doing her duty, in knowing that she was on the path to achieving everything she had worked so hard for.