My Bratty Wife
Chapter 201 - Two Hundred And One

Chapter 201: Chapter Two Hundred And One

After leaving Evan standing stunned and furious in the alcove, Suzy took a moment to compose herself in the hallway. She smoothed her dress again, took a deep breath, and made sure her expression was calm before proceeding. She went to the room to retrieve the small tray holding Ryan’s medicine and a glass of water from a nearby table where she’d left it earlier, then walked towards the heavy oak door of his study.

Knock,

knock,

knock.

Her knuckles rapped lightly against the wood.

A moment later, Ryan’s familiar voice echoed from within, slightly muffled by the door. "Enter."

Suzy pushed the door open and stepped inside, holding the tray carefully. Ryan was seated behind his large desk, apparently looking over some papers. He looked up as she entered, and his serious expression immediately softened, his eyes lighting up with genuine happiness at the sight of her.

"Cassandra," he murmured, putting down his quill.

Her eyes quickly scanned the room. The comfortable leather chairs where visitors usually sat were empty. Byron was gone. "Where’s Byron?" she asked, walking towards the desk.

Ryan watched her approach, his gaze warm. "He left just a moment ago," he replied. "Said he basically rode straight here as soon as he got Mrs. Madelyn’s letter saying I was well enough for a visit. He worries," Ryan added with a soft sigh, a hint of affection in his tone for his younger brother.

Suzy reached the desk and placed the tray down. She handed him the small pills and the glass of water. "Time for these," she said gently. He took them without comment, swallowing them quickly with a sip of water.

He leaned back in his chair, looking up at her. "I didn’t see Evan today, then?" he asked casually. "Did he decide not to come after all?"

Suzy paused, choosing her words carefully. "Oh, he came," she replied, her voice carefully neutral. "But he left almost immediately after arriving." She couldn’t resist adding, with a slight edge to her tone, "It seems he couldn’t quite manage to respect himself, let alone the Duchess of the castle."

Ryan frowned slightly. That wasn’t like Evan, who usually lingered, eager to assert his presence, to leave abruptly. Something felt off, but before he could ask further, his gaze softened again as he looked at her face. He patted his thighs gently. "Come here," he murmured, gesturing for her to sit on his lap.

Suzy hesitated for only a second before moving around the desk towards him. As she walked closer, moving into the light streaming from the tall windows, Ryan’s gaze fell on her wrist, the one Evan had grabbed. Against the pale skin, a distinct, angry red welt stood out – the clear imprint of fingers digging in too hard.

Instantly, the warmth vanished from Ryan’s eyes, replaced by a sudden, blazing fury. His posture stiffened, his jaw clenched. "Who," he asked, his voice dangerously low and quiet, his eyes flaring with a protective rage she hadn’t seen in a while, "did this to you?"

Suzy looked down at her wrist, then met his furious gaze calmly. "It was your cousin, Evan," she replied evenly. "The one who couldn’t watch his mouth and couldn’t keep his hands to himself." She saw the storm gathering in Ryan’s eyes and quickly added, wanting to diffuse the situation, "Don’t worry, Ryan. I gave him a befitting reply myself."

But her assurance did nothing to quell his rage. Hearing that Evan had not only disrespected her but physically hurt her, marked her, sent Ryan into a protective fury. He shot up from his chair so abruptly the heavy wood scraped against the floor. Ignoring the twinge in his side, he strode angrily across the room to where his ceremonial sword hung on the wall, a relic perhaps, but still very real.

With a swift, furious movement, he grasped the hilt and pulled the blade from its sheath. The sharp, metallic ring of steel slicing through the air echoed in the suddenly silent study. He turned, the polished blade gleaming dangerously in the light, his face a mask of cold fury.

"How dare he," Ryan hissed, his voice tight with rage. "How dare he lay a single finger on my wife." He started towards the door, his steps purposeful and menacing. "I’ll cut the hand he used to touch you right off his arm."

"Ryan, no!" Suzy cried out, stepping quickly in front of him, trying to block his path. "Don’t be foolish! It’s not worth it!"

But he was blinded by anger, barely registering her protest. He tried to step around her, intent on finding Evan and carrying out his threat. He took two quick steps towards the door, then stopped abruptly, letting out a low, guttural growl of pain and frustration. The sudden movement had aggravated his injury, sending a sharp, stabbing pain through his side. He swayed slightly, his hand instinctively clutching his bandaged waist.

Seeing him falter, Suzy rushed to his side immediately. "Ryan, please," she urged softly but firmly, slipping an arm around his uninjured side to support him. "Come and sit down. You’re hurting yourself." He leaned heavily on her, the initial burst of adrenaline fading, leaving him weakened by the pain. She carefully guided him back to his large chair behind the desk, helping him sink into it. His breathing was harsh, his face pale beneath the anger. She gently took the heavy sword from his now slackened grip and walked back to the wall, sliding it carefully back into its sheath with a soft rasp.

She turned back to him, her expression full of concern. She could see the strain the outburst had caused him. Without asking permission, she knelt beside his chair and began carefully unbuttoning his waistcoat and shirt, knowing she needed to check the bandage. He let her, his angry gaze still fixed ahead, though the fire was slightly banked by the pain. She eased the fabric away, exposing his bandaged torso. The area around the wound looked slightly more inflamed.

Leaning closer, she gently blew a cool breeze over the skin near the bandage, trying to soothe the heat. Then she reached for a clean linen cloth from a nearby cabinet she knew held medical supplies. As she carefully padded the area around the wound, preparing to adjust the dressing slightly, she spoke, her voice calm and rational.

"Ryan, listen to me," she said softly but firmly. "I understand your anger. But I do not want the Blackwood family to turn into a bloodbath because of me. It would solve nothing and cause even more pain." She paused, meeting his intense gaze.

"Besides," she added, a hint of confidence in her voice, "believe me when I say I put him firmly in his place. He won’t be trying anything like that ever again."

Ryan didn’t say anything for a long moment, just watched her face, her careful hands as she worked. The silence stretched, filled only by the sound of his breathing, which was slowly evening out.

Finally, he spoke, his voice low but unwavering, the protective fury still simmering beneath the surface. "He hurt you," he stated flatly. "That, I won’t tolerate. Ever."

Suzy finished adjusting the dressing, ensuring it was secure and comfortable. She met his fierce gaze, her own calm and steady. "I know," she said softly. "But I’m fine. Truly."

As she secured the final piece of tape, Ryan became aware that the sharp pain in his side had lessened considerably, fading to a dull ache. Maybe it was the medicine finally kicking in, or maybe, just maybe, it was the soothing, rational presence of his wife, her gentle touch chasing the pain away along with some of his blinding rage. He continued to watch her, his protective instincts still on high alert, but tempered now by her calm strength.