My Bratty Wife
Chapter 132 - Hundred And Thirty Two

Chapter 132: Chapter Hundred And Thirty Two

The warm water swirled around Suzy, a soothing balm for her weary body. The bubbles were all over the place as a result of too much lather in the water.

The bathroom, a sanctuary of marble and gold, was so different from the rest of the bathrooms in the castle. A large, freestanding bathtub, carved from a single block of marble, dominated the room. Its smooth, cool surface was inviting, the water within, a serene, colorless liquid filled with rose petals.

One of the maids gently scrubbed her small frame, humming a soft melody. Suzy’s mind, however, was lost in thought when the maid’s voice broke through the silence.

"I’m done, Your Grace," The maid announced, her voice soft and respectful.

Suzy blinked, startled from her reverie, nodded absently. She stepped out of the tub, her skin still damp. The maid had already laid out a soft, fluffy robe and a nightgown, both in a delicate shade of pink.

Suzy, wrapped in a plush towel, emerged out of the bathroom, her mind still foggy with the warmth of the bath. The maid, stood by the bed, the nightgown held ready.

"I can do it myself," Suzy said, dismissing the maid’s help. "I can manage on my own, you may leave."

"What of your hair, Your Grace? How about I help you....." She said but was cut short.

" You may leave" Suzy repeated, this time with a serious expression.

The maid bowed, a serene smile playing on her lips. "As you wish, Your Grace." She replied, a hint of concern in her voice.

As the door clicked shut, Suzy was alone with her thoughts. A frown creased her brow. "What is he still doing in his study?" she asked herself, her voice soft as a whisper.

A knock on the door interrupted her musings. Doris entered, bearing a steaming cup of chamomile tea. "A nightcap, Milady," she offered, her voice soft.

Suzy took the cup and a sip of the warm tea. " Where is Ryan and what is he up to by this time?" She asked as she dropped the tea cup on the table next to her.

"I’m afraid His Grace will be working late tonight, Milady. Lord Byron has arrived, and they will be discussing the ongoing murder investigation." Doris replied.

Suzy sighed, disappointment coloring her voice. "So, I’ll be dining alone?"

Doris nodded, her expression sympathetic. "Yes, Milady. But I’ll ensure your dinner is brought to you promptly."

"Very well," Suzy replied. "And please, make sure Ryan’s dinner is sent to his study."

"Of course, Milady," Doris assured her. "I’ll shall attend to it immediately."

As the door closed behind Doris, Suzy slipped into the nightgown. She padded over to the window, gazing out at the moonlit garden sipping her warm tea. A sense of loneliness washed over her. She missed her husband, missed the warmth of his presence, missed being close to him in bed.

She settled into a plush armchair, her gaze drawn to the window. The moon cast an ethereal glow over the garden, its silver light reflecting off the still pond. A sense of peace washed over her, and she found herself lost in contemplation.

A knock interrupted her thoughts. It was Doris, bearing a tray of food. "Your dinner, Milady," she said, placing the tray on a nearby table.

Suzy thanked her and turned back to the window. She picked at her food, her appetite waning. The silence of the night was broken only by the distant murmur of voices from Ryan’s study.

With that, Doris took the dishes, bid her goodnight and left the room, leaving Suzy alone with her thoughts. She slipped out of the robe and climbed into bed, pulling the covers up to her chin as she tried to drift off to sleep.

Moments later she tossed and turned, the soft sheets doing little to soothe her restless mind. Usually, she slept soundly, doesn’t need anyone sleeping near her . But tonight, sleep seemed difficult, an illusion dancing just beyond her grasp.

A strange sense of unease crept over her, a feeling she hadn’t experienced in a long time. She glanced at the clock, its glowing numbers stark against the darkness. It was late, far too late for anyone to be awake, especially Ryan. Yet, a nagging doubt persisted. Was he still working? Had he eaten? Was he tired? A myriad of questions flooded her thoughts, each one more unsettling than the last.

A sigh escaped her lips as she sat up, the cool night air nipping at her skin. She couldn’t bear the uncertainty any longer. With a determined look, she swung her legs over the bed and slipped into her robe. Grabbing a lamp from the nightstand, she tiptoed out of the room, the soft glow of the lamp illuminating her path.

The hallway was silent, the only sound the soft creak of the floorboards beneath her feet. As she made her way to the corridor, she paused, her hold on the handle of the lamp tightened. A wave of hesitation washed over her. Should she disturb him? Was it right to intrude on his work?

But her concern for him outweighed her hesitation. With a deep breath, she continued on her path.

The room now lay silent and still. The soft moonlight, filtering through the window, cast an ethereal glow over the room. Unnoticed, a figure slipped into the room, their movements silent and deliberate.

The intruder moved with the grace of a shadow, their eyes scanning the room with a predatory gleam. Their target was clear: the ornate chest of drawers that stood against the wall. With practiced ease, they opened the drawers, their fingers dancing over the contents within.

Each drawer was carefully searched, its contents examined with a keen eye. But it was the bottom drawer, hidden beneath a layer of clothing, that held the prize they sought. With a triumphant smile, they pulled out a small velvet box. Inside, nestled on a bed of silk, was a ring, its intricate design shimmering in the moonlight. The duchy ring.

A satisfied smirk played on their lips as they took the ring from the box and carefully closed the drawer. With a final glance around the room, they ensured that everything was in its place, undisturbed.

Then, as silently as they had arrived, they slipped out of the room, the duchy ring clutched tightly in their hand.