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"I'm content," she said finally. "And I believe happiness will come, in time. This marriage is a chance to fulfill the vow I made to myself, to be the perfect lady and to restore our family's standing. One item on my list will soon be accomplished, and the rest will surely follow."

"Your list?" Diana asked, curiosity piqued.

Lydia nodded. "After my debut, I made a list of everything I needed to do to be considered the perfect lady. Marrying well was at the top, of course. But there's also making influential friends, hosting successful social events, perhaps even... siring an heir."

Her sisters exchanged glances at this last item, and Lydia felt heat rising to her cheeks. "I suppose that… it is part of a marriage," she muttered. "Though perhaps we will simply be… housemates."

"But Lydia," Jane protested, "surely there's more to life than just duty and social standing?"

Lydia smiled, reaching out to squeeze her sister's hand. "Of course there is. But for now, this is what I need to focus on. Who knows? Perhaps in fulfilling my duty, I'll find a deeper happiness than I ever imagined."

As Madame Hughes draped a gossamer-fine veil over Lydia's dark curls, she caught sight of herself in the mirror once more. The woman who gazed back at her was poised, elegant - every inch a duchess. For the first time since the engagement was announced, Lydia felt a flicker of excitement for her new role.

"Well," she said, turning to face her sisters with a bright smile, "what do you think? Am I ready to be the Duchess of Fyre?"

Her sisters exchanged glances, their earlier worry giving way to tentative hope. It was Marian who spoke first, her voice soft butsure. "You're ready to be anything you set your mind to, Lydia. You always have been."

As they left the shop, the gown carefully packaged and ready for delivery, Lydia felt a sense of purpose settle over her. One goal was nearly accomplished - she would be marrying well, securing her place in society. The rest, she was determined, would follow in due course.

She would win over the ton, charm them with her accomplishments and grace. She would be the perfect hostess, the ideal wife, the mother of future Dukes of Fyre. And perhaps, in time, she might even find a measure of happiness in her new life.

As they climbed back into the carriage, Jane nudged Lydia with her elbow. "So, future Duchess," she teased, "any chance you'll use your new influence to find suitable matches for your poor, unmarried sisters?"

Lydia laughed, feeling lighter than she had in days. "Just you wait," she promised. "Once I'm settled at Fyre Manor, I'll have eligible bachelors lining up to court you all. After all, what gentleman could resist the charms of a duchess's sister?"

As the carriage rolled towards home, Lydia's mind was already racing ahead, planning how she would win over her new husband, his household, and eventually, all of society. It would be a challenge, certainly, but then again, Lydia Brandon had never been one to shy away from a challenge.

She was to be the Duchess of Fyre, and she would be perfect. After all, she had made a vow, and Lydia Brandon always kept her promises.

The carriage had scarcely come to a stop before the front door of Drownshire House flew open, revealing a frantic-looking Viscountess Prudence.

"Girls! Thank heavens you're back. Quickly, Lydia, come inside. There's been a letter from the Duke."

Lydia's heart leapt into her throat as she hurried after her mother, her sisters close behind. In the drawing room, she found her father pacing before the fireplace, a creased piece of parchment in his hand.

"What is it, Papa?" Lydia asked, trying to keep the tremor from her voice. "Has something happened?"

Viscount Silas turned to face her, his expression grave. "The Duke has... requested some changes to the wedding arrangements. He wishes for a smaller ceremony, with only immediate family present. And he wants it moved up. To next week."

Lydia felt as though the floor had dropped out from beneath her feet. "Next week?" she echoed faintly. "But that's... that's so soon. How can we possibly be ready?"

"We'll manage," Viscountess Prudence said firmly. "We must. This is too important an opportunity to risk losing because of mere logistical difficulties."

Lydia nodded numbly, her mind whirling. A week. She had only a week to prepare for her new life, to say goodbye to everything she'd ever known. The enormity of it all suddenly crashed over her, and she felt her knees go weak.

"Lydia?" Marian's concerned voice cut through the fog of her thoughts. "Are you alright? You've gone quite pale."

"I... I think I need some air," Lydia managed, stumbling towards the French doors that led to the garden. Once outside, she gulped in great breaths of the cool evening air, trying to calm her racing heart.

She heard footsteps behind her and turned to find Jane and Diana, their faces etched with worry.

"Lydia," Diana began hesitantly, "if you don't want to go through with this, you don't have to. We'll support you, no matter what."

For a moment, Lydia was tempted. Oh, how easy it would be to give in to her fears, to retreat to the safety and comfort of her familiar life. But then she thought of the Duke's son, of the lonely child who needed a mother. She thought of her family, of the opportunities this marriage would bring them all.

"No," she said, straightening her shoulders. "No, I made a commitment, and I intend to see it through. This is just... unexpected, that's all. I'll be fine."

Jane studied her face for a long moment. "Are you quite certain? Because if that beast does something to harm you…"