Page 69

When they finally arrived, the house seemed smaller than she remembered, its neat gardens and modest facade a stark contrast to Fyre Manor's grandeur. Her mother appeared in the doorway before the carriage had fully stopped, her face pinched with concern and something that looked uncomfortably like satisfaction.

"Lydia!" Viscountess Prudence hurried down the steps, her voice pitched just loud enough to catch the neighbors' attention. "What a... surprise. Is everything quite well?"

"Good morning, Mother." Lydia stepped down from the carriage, grateful for years of practice at maintaining a calm facade. "I thought I might visit for a while. To help with the girls' season."

Her mother's eyes narrowed slightly. "The girls' season? Or has something happened with His Grace?"

"Nothing has happened," Lydia said firmly. "I simply missed my sisters and thought my experience might be useful in helping them make suitable matches."

"Hmm." The Viscountess's tone held volumes of skepticism. "Well, come inside. Though I must say, it's most irregular for a duchess to abandon her household without her husband's company..."

"I haven't abandoned anything," Lydia snapped, then immediately regretted the show of temper as her mother's eyebrows rose. "I merely thought a change of scenery might be beneficial for everyone."

Inside, she found her sisters waiting in the drawing room. Their faces lit up at the sight of her, though she saw the concern in their eyes as they took in her travel-worn appearance.

"Lydia!" Jane bounded forward to embrace her. "We weren't expecting you! Is something wrong? Has the Beast of Fyre…"

"Jane!" Marian cut her off with a sharp look. "Let Lydia catch her breath before you start interrogating her."

But Diana, always the most perceptive, was studying Lydia's face carefully. "You've been crying," she said softly.

"Nonsense," Lydia attempted a smile. "It's just the wind from the carriage. Now, tell me what you've all been up to. Has Mr. Harrison called again, Marian?"

Her obvious attempt at deflection didn't fool any of them, but they played along, filling her in on the latest neighborhood gossip. Their father appeared briefly, his expression troubled, but he said little before retreating to his study.

It wasn't until that evening, after their parents had retired, that her sisters cornered her in her old bedroom.

"Alright," Jane said, perching on the foot of the bed. "Out with it. What's really going on?"

"Nothing's going on," Lydia insisted, unpacking her bag with determined concentration. "I simply thought…"

"Lydia." Marian's voice was gentle but firm. "We're your sisters. We know when something's wrong."

The kindness in her tone nearly undid Lydia's composure. She sat heavily on the edge of the bed, her hands trembling slightly as she smoothed her skirts.

"I just... needed some time away," she said finally. "To think about things."

"What things?" Diana asked softly, settling beside her.

Lydia stared at her hands, twisting in her lap. How could she explain the complexity of her feelings? The way Elias's coldness cut deeper than any blade, the ache of wanting something herefused to give, the fear that she would never be more than a convenient arrangement in his life?

"Did he hurt you?" Jane demanded, her eyes flashing. "Because if he did, I'll... I'll..."

"No, nothing like that," Lydia assured her quickly. "He's been perfectly proper. Exactly as a duke should be." She couldn't keep the bitterness from her voice.

"Ah." Marian's expression cleared with understanding. "Too proper, perhaps?"

Lydia felt tears burning behind her eyes. "I thought... I was so foolish. I thought if I just tried hard enough, if I could show him..." She broke off, pressing her fingers to her lips to stop their trembling.

Her sisters exchanged glances, then moved as one to surround her. Diana's arms went around her shoulders while Jane clasped her hand tightly.

"You weren't foolish," Marian said firmly. "We've all seen how you've changed that household. Even Mother commented on how different the Duke seemed at dinner that night."

"But it wasn't enough," Lydia whispered. "It will never be enough. He doesn't want... he won't let me..." She couldn't finish, the words too painful to voice.

"Oh, Lydia." Diana hugged her closer. "Tell us how to help."

Lydia managed a watery smile. "Just... let me stay for a while? Help me remember who I was before I became the Duchess of Fyre?"