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"If?" Lydia prompted gently, sensing something important in the housekeeper's hesitation.

The housekeeper hesitated, then seemed to come to a decision. Her eyes, wise with years of watching the family's private dramas unfold, met Lydia's directly. "Might I speak freely, Your Grace?"

"Of course." Lydia found herself holding her breath .

"Lady Barbara... she was a good woman, but there was no love between her and His Grace. Their marriage was arranged, you see, to secure an alliance between their families. They were cordial enough, but..." The housekeeper shook her head, old memories clouding her eyes. "Not like what I see between you and His Grace now. Never anything like that."

Lydia's heart skipped. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean." But her cheeks warmed, betraying her.

"Don't you?" Mrs Winters smiled knowingly. "Child, you must understand… I have known His Grace since he was a wee boy. And I saw what led to the monstrous masks he chooses to wear. It is not my place to tell you everything, but what I will say is this: for the first time in many years, I have seen glimpses of the man he used to be and that… Well that is something special indeed."

"Is it enough?" T he words were out before Lydia could stop herself and a deep blush rose to her cheeks.

"I just…" she tried to explain clumsily, "I just fear that I do not do enough."

"You do everything, dear," Mrs Winters encouraged her softly. "Young master Peter, His Grace… They are better with you here. You will see it too."

"

Lydia found herself blushing. "I... thank you, Mrs. Winters. Though I'm not sure His Grace would agree about all the changes."

"Wouldn't he?" The housekeeper's eyes twinkled with motherly wisdom. "Then perhaps you haven't noticed the way he smiles when you enter a room? Or how he touches the drawings Peter leaves in his study, when he thinks no one's watching? Or how he ordered the gardeners to plant more lavender because it's your favorite scent? The Beast of Fyre indeed - more like a man remembering how to smile again, if you ask me."

With that, she stepped away quite easily - though not without a last look in Lydia's direction.

CHAPTER 25

The tap of heels on marble echoed through Fyre Manor's entrance hall as Lydia's sisters huddled together, their eyes wide as they took in the imposing surroundings. Jane clutched Marian's arm, nearly stumbling over an ancient rug as she craned her neck to examine a particularly stern-looking portrait.

"Do all the paintings... watch you like that?" she whispered, loud enough to make Diana jump.

"Jane!" Viscountess Prudence hissed. "Contain yourself!"

"But Mother, look at his eyes!" Jane protested. "They follow you everywhere! And his sword looks positively?—"

"I'm sure Her Grace has better things to do than listen to your observations about the family portraits," their father cut in smoothly, though his own gaze darted nervously to the painting in question.

Marian, ever practical, was studying the fresh flowers arranged throughout the hall. "The house seems... brighter than I expected. From the stories, I thought it would be all cobwebs and... well..."

"Ghosts?" Diana supplied helpfully, earning another sharp look from their mother.

"Really, girls! Such talk is hardly—" The Viscountess's reprimand was cut short by Lydia's appearance at the top of the stairs.

"Lydia!" All three sisters exclaimed at once, then immediately tried to school their features into something more dignified as Mrs. Winters appeared to announce them properly.

"The Viscount and Viscountess Drownshire," the housekeeper intoned. "Ladies Marian, Jane, and Diana."

"Welcome to Fyre Manor," Lydia smiled, descending to embrace her sisters while their mother looked on disapprovingly. "Though I see you've already met some of our more... intimidating ancestors."

"Is it true what they say about the east wing being haunted?" Jane whispered as she hugged her sister. "And does His Grace really—ow!" She broke off as Marian stepped deliberately on her foot.

"What my sister means to say," Marian interrupted smoothly, "is how lovely everything looks. You've done wonders with the place."

"Though perhaps we could tour the less... watching parts of the house?" Diana suggested, still eyeing the portrait nervously.

Lydia bit back a laugh, remembering her own first impressions of the manor. "Come along then. The drawing room has much friendlier artwork. Though I should warn you about the ghost in the?—"

"Lydia!" all three sisters squeaked in unison.