My Bratty Wife
Chapter 163 - Hundred And Sixty Three

Chapter 163: Chapter Hundred And Sixty Three

The first rays of dawn crept through the heavy drapes, painting the room in soft hues of gold and rose. Suzy stirred, her eyes fluttering open. She turned her head and saw Ryan, still asleep beside her. His breathing was even and gentle, his face relaxed and peaceful. His hair, slightly disheveled, fell across his forehead, some strands obscuring his eyes. Suzy reached out a hand, her fingers brushing softly against his cheek, gently pushing the stray hairs aside. He looked so handsome, so vulnerable in his sleep.

She felt a warmth spread through her chest as she watched him. A soft smile touched her lips. She carefully eased herself out of bed, trying not to disturb him. She wanted to start her day, to get back to work, but she hesitated, reluctant to leave him.

As she was about to step away from the bed, Ryan’s hand reached out and gently pulled her back. He nuzzled his face against her back, his breath warm against her nightgown. "Don’t go," he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep. "Stay... stay a little longer."

Suzy chuckled softly, a warm, affectionate sound. She turned to face him, her heart melting at the sight of his sleepy face. He looked so boyish, so endearing. She lay back down beside him, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw. "Aren’t you supposed to be in your study by now?" she teased gently.

Ryan opened his eyes slowly, a lazy smile spreading across his face. "Well," he murmured, his voice still heavy with sleep, "I don’t want to go."

Suzy raised an eyebrow playfully. "Oh really?" she asked. "And what’s stopping you?"

Ryan grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Well," he said, his voice low and suggestive, "I’m sure Davis will bring me some important message that will get me out of bed eventually."

Suzy laughed, a light, melodic sound. "Well, he usually does, doesn’t he?" she replied, her eyes twinkling.

"Mmmm," Ryan hummed in agreement, pulling her closer. He rolled over gently, so that he was on top of her, his weight supported by his arms. Suzy gasped softly, her hands instinctively going to his chest. He looked at her, his eyes filled with warmth and affection. "Until then," he murmured, his voice husky, "in the meantime... I want to bask in the beauty of my beloved."

Without another word, he lowered his head and took her lips in his. His kiss was slow, tender, and filled with a deep, abiding love. The sunlight streaming through the window seemed to intensify, bathing them in a warm, golden glow. The world outside faded away, and there was only the two of them, lost in the sweetness of the moment.

Suzy’s fingers entangled in Ryan’s hair as the kiss deepened. His hands, still warm from sleep, slipped beneath her nightgown, his touch sending a shiver of delight down her spine. His fingers traced a slow, tantalizing path along her skin, to her thighs then settling gently on her waist. Suzy’s arms, still wrapped around his neck, tightened, pulling him closer.

The kiss deepened, becoming more passionate, more urgent. Suzy let out a muffled moan as Ryan continued his ministrations.

As Ryan’s exploration became more adventurous, a knock on the door broke the spell. "It’s Davis, Your Grace," a voice called from the other side.

Ryan pulled back slightly, a playful groan escaping his lips. He looked at Suzy, his eyes filled with a mixture of amusement and regret. "Speaking of the devil," he murmured, a wry smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Suzy tried to stifle her laughter, but a giggle escaped her lips. She knew how much Ryan had been looking forward to this morning, how much he hated being interrupted.

Ryan kissed her forehead softly, a lingering touch that spoke volumes. "What is it, Davis?" he called out, his voice tinged with impatience.

"I have an important message, Your Grace," Davis replied. "It’s from Sir Thorne."

The mention of Thorne’s name wiped the playful expression from Ryan’s face. His features hardened, his eyes narrowing slightly. "I’ll be at the study in a minute," he said, his voice now crisp.

"Certainly, Your Grace," Davis replied. They heard the sound of retreating footsteps, signaling Davis’s departure.

Ryan turned back to Suzy, his face now etched with a hint of worry. "I’m sorry I couldn’t finish what I started," he said, his voice laced with regret. "But I’ll make it up to you, I promise."

Suzy cupped his face in her hands, her thumbs gently caressing his cheeks. She gave him a quick, reassuring kiss. "Go start your day, Your Grace," she said, her voice light and teasing. "Duty calls."

Ryan kissed her back, a lingering kiss that left her breathless. He reluctantly pulled away, a playful glint in his eyes. "I’ll be back," he promised, his voice low and suggestive. He then rolled off the bed and headed towards the adjoining room where his bath awaited. As he went, he cast one last look over his shoulder, a smile playing on his lips.

———————-

Ryan had left for his study, the weight of the day’s responsibilities already settling upon his shoulders. Suzy, left alone in her chambers, began to prepare for the day ahead. A young maid was carefully brushing her hair, the soft bristles gliding through the curly strands. Suddenly, a sharp tug sent a jolt of pain through Suzy’s scalp.

"Ouch! Doris, that hurts," she exclaimed, wincing slightly.

The maid paused, her brow furrowed in confusion. "Sorry for my carelessness, Your Grace," she replied, her voice soft. "I’m not Doris."

Suzy blinked, realizing her mistake. A wave of sadness washed over her as she remembered Doris. "Oh," she murmured, her voice filled with regret. "I’m so sorry. I... I wasn’t thinking." She gave the maid a gentle smile. "Please, just leave my hair down. It’s fine like this."

The maid curtsied politely. "As you wish, Your Grace," she said. She finished arranging Suzy’s hair, then turned to leave.

"And," Suzy added, stopping her, "could you please have my breakfast brought to my study? I’ll be working there this morning."

"Certainly, Your Grace," the maid replied, curtsying again before exiting the room.

Suzy gazed at her reflection in the mirror, her expression thoughtful. A flicker of determination crossed her face. "Don’t worry, Doris," she whispered to herself, her voice barely audible. "I will avenge you."

With a sense of purpose, Suzy made her way to her study. As she stepped through the doorway, she was greeted by a sight that took her breath away. The room was even more beautiful than she had imagined. It was spacious and elegant, yet also warm and inviting. The walls were painted in a soft, calming shade of lavender, and the furniture was a mix of classic and contemporary styles.

In the center of the room stood a large, ornate desk, crafted from dark, polished wood. Two comfortable chairs were positioned in front of it, perfect for meetings or discussions. Near the fireplace, two plush armchairs and a small, round table created a cozy seating area, ideal for relaxing with a book or enjoying a cup of tea.

The most enchanting feature of the study, however, was the large window that overlooked the gardens. A plush, velvet-covered chaise lounge was positioned by the window, creating a perfect spot for reading or simply enjoying the view. A tall bookshelf, filled with a diverse collection of fiction and non-fiction books, stood against one wall, hinting at Suzy’s love for reading and adding a touch of intellectual charm to the room.

Small, delicate vases filled with fresh flowers were placed strategically around the room, adding a touch of feminine elegance. The overall effect was one of refined beauty and quiet sophistication, a space that was both inspiring and comforting. It was everything Suzy had ever dreamed of in a study, a place where she could work,plan, and, most importantly, unravel the mystery surrounding Doris’s death and the threats against her own life. She ran her hand lightly over the smooth surface of the desk, a smile gracing her lips. It was perfect.

She settled into her chair, the smooth wood cool beneath her fingertips. She picked up her quill, the delicate feather brushing lightly against her hand. Dipping it into the inkwell, she watched as the dark liquid clung to the tip. Her mind focused, she began to write, the quill scratching softly against the parchment. "Clue one," she wrote, her hand steady and deliberate, "The Blackmore’s family ring."