My Bratty Wife
Chapter 232 - Two Hundred And Thirty Two

Chapter 232: Chapter Two Hundred And Thirty Two

A cruel, knowing smirk twisted Eleanor’s lips as she heard her name, a ragged whisper from Suzy’s parched throat. The Duchess lay on the filthy floor, a stark contrast to Eleanor’s own immaculate, dark travelling gown. Eleanor bent down gracefully, bringing her face close to Suzy’s, her dark brown eyes glinting with a cold triumph.

"Are you surprised, Duchess?" she whispered mockingly, her breath cool against Suzy’s bruised cheek. "Did you truly think your happily ever after would last forever?" She paused, looked into Suzy’s weak eyes and continued " You all have to stop hiring staffs who are greedy. You know I only had to pay the château’s gardener triple the amount Ryan pays him and he led me to you."

Suzy could only stare, too dumbfounded, too horrified by this impossible reality to form any words. Her mind struggled to reconcile the image of Eleanor, a familiar, if often thorny, presence in high society, with this cold-eyed woman orchestrating her brutal abduction.

The squat, granite-faced boss of the smugglers, clearly impatient with this private moment, shuffled his feet. "My Lady," he interjected, his voice a low growl of respect mixed with greed, "about our arrangement... you are still keeping your word, yes? That I’ll keep the whole profit myself, after I... deliver her to the buyers?"

Eleanor’s smirk vanished, replaced by a flicker of irritation at the interruption. The constant repetition of the deal grated on her nerves; this man was a means to an end, nothing more. She straightened up, her gaze dismissive of the brute. "Must you be so crass?" she said coolly, before turning slightly and giving a subtle nod.

A guard, who had entered silently behind Eleanor and stood unobtrusively near the door – a sense of protection – stepped forward immediately. He carried a heavy leather sack that clinked with the unmistakable sound of gold.

Eleanor gestured towards the boss. "This," she announced, her voice clear and commanding, "is for the trouble of her... acquisition. Payment for your services in bringing her here." She paused, letting her gaze sweep over the listening men, their eyes now wide and fixed on the sack.

"When you sell her, and when she is safely aboard that ship and far away from these shores, you can keep whatever money is made from that transaction. I have no interest in it. Consider it a bonus for your efficiency."

A collective grin spread across the faces of the boss and his men. Their eyes gleamed with unrestrained greed. An offer like this, were they got paid handsomely for the initial job and then kept the entire, undoubtedly substantial, sale price of a merchandise? It wasn’t just a good day; it was a windfall beyond their wildest dreams.

The boss, his earlier submissiveness now tinged with an almost worshipful gratitude, practically tripped over himself. He smacked Jem hard on the back of his head. "Well, don’t just stand there gawping, you oaf! Get a seat for Her Ladyship! Show some respect!"

Jem, rubbing his head but grinning foolishly at the prospect of so much gold, scurried to fetch a rickety wooden chair from a corner. He even had the presence of mind to grab a somewhat clean piece of linen from a bundle to drape over it, attempting to make it look more presentable, more comfortable for their benefactor.

Eleanor sat down with an air of regal disdain, her silken skirts rustling as she settled. She looked down from her makeshift throne at Suzy, who remained a pathetic, crumpled figure on the floor, her pastel colored gown now soiled and torn, her spirit battered. The other smugglers, after casting a few more awestruck glances at the bag of gold which Eleanor’s guard now held protectively, busied themselves with their final preparations for departure, a new spring in their step. They instinctively gave Eleanor and Suzy a degree of privacy for their... discussion.

It was Suzy who finally broke the heavy silence, her voice weak but edged with a desperate need to understand. "Eleanor... why?" she rasped, her throat dry. "What could you possibly gain from... from sullying your hands in something as vile as this?"

Eleanor looked down at her, a flicker of something old and bitter in her eyes. "Gain?" she repeated, a humorless laugh escaping her. "I gain my love back, Cassandra. The love you stole from me." She leaned forward slightly. "Years ago, my father, desperate to clear his debts, sold me in the pretense of a stupid marriage. Sold me like chattel to a rich, old duke in a far-off northern kingdom. A man who stank of decay and desperation, looking only for a young wife to breed him an heir." Her voice was flat, devoid of self-pity, stating it as a cold fact.

"That is how, and why, I lost Ryan. He was mine. We were... understood. But my father’s greed, and my unfortunate journey north, left the way clear for someone like you to step in."

She paused, then a chilling smile spread across her beautiful face. "Now, I will take him back. It’s quite simple, really. I sell you to a nobleman in yet another kingdom, one even further afield. A man with... particular tastes, who pays very well for ’unique’ acquisitions because you are one. Once you leave that port tonight, once you are swallowed by the sea and a new, distant land, Ryan will never be able to find you. You will simply vanish."

Suzy struggled to absorb the sheer malice, the twisted logic. "And Ryan?" she managed, her voice trembling. "Do you truly believe he will just... accept this? That he will let you go unpunished when he finds out?"

Eleanor laughed again, a sound like breaking glass. "Find out? How will he find out it was me, you foolish girl? I will be the grieving friend, the comforting presence. I will be there for him when the news breaks that his precious wife was tragically kidnapped by ruthless bandits and sold off to some unknown fate." Her eyes gleamed with light. "He will mourn, of course. But he will move on. He moved on from me all those years ago when he thought I had abandoned him for a title. He will move on from you then I win. I finally win this game."

A spark of defiance, fueled by a desperate love, ignited within Suzy. With an immense effort of will, she pushed herself up from the floor, her legs shaking, her body screaming in protest. She swayed for a moment, then steadied herself, walking slowly, deliberately, towards Eleanor until she stood barely an inch or two away, looking directly into her rival’s eyes.

"What if he doesn’t move on, Eleanor?" Suzy’s voice was low, but it vibrated with a sudden, unexpected strength. "What if all of this, all your cruel scheming, was utterly in vain? What if he crosses seas, searches every corner of the world to find me, what will you do next?" A faint, challenging smile touched Suzy’s bruised lips. "Because right now, Eleanor, all I see is a desperate, tragic woman, clinging to a delusive past. You look like a bitter widow, pathetically trying to steal another woman’s husband. Are you truly that shameless? That’s devoid of any pride? You are nothing but a coward. A coward. And you have the effrontery to say you won, well what can I say, you were never a player."

The words, each one carefully chosen, struck home. Eleanor’s eyes blazed with sudden, uncontrollable fury. The civilized mask shattered. "You insolent little—!" she hissed, and her hand flew out, slapping Suzy hard across the face, on the same cheek Jem had struck earlier.

Pain exploded in Suzy’s head. She coughed, a fleck of blood staining her lips, and staggered back, her brief surge of strength extinguished, her vision blurring again.

Eleanor was breathing heavily, her chest heaving. "You will pay for that," she seethed. She turned abruptly to the boss, who had been watching the exchange with a mixture of fear and fascination. "I’ve changed my mind. I’m following you to the port," she declared, her voice sharp with malice. "I want to see her loaded onto that ship myself. I want to watch her fade away into the mist with my own eyes."

"As you wish, My Lady," the boss replied quickly, eager to please the woman who held the purse strings, and clearly intimidated by her sudden rage.

Just then, as Suzy swayed, trying to clear her vision, Eleanor’s furious gaze fell upon the delicate gold chain around Suzy’s neck, upon the dark, significant ring resting against her skin. The Blackwood signet ring. Ryan’s ring.

Eleanor’s eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. "Is that... is that Ryan’s ring?" she demanded, her voice hostile. "The Blackwood signet? How long have you had it! He never let anyone touch it or even wear it!"

Suzy, dazed and in pain, didn’t answer. She instinctively clutched at the ring, a protective gesture.

Before she could comprehend her intent, Eleanor lunged forward. With a vicious tug, she ripped the chain from Suzy’s neck. The fine gold links snapped, and the delicate skin of Suzy’s throat was scratched, a thin line of blood welling up. The ring, Ryan’s ring, was now in Eleanor’s grasp.

Eleanor stared at it, an elated, possessive smile spreading across her face. She held it up, turning it in the lamplight. "It’s finally in my hands," she whispered, her voice filled with a disturbing, triumphant joy.

"Mine. I begged him for this for years, even just to hold it. He always refused. And now, it’s mine."

Tears streamed down Suzy’s face – tears of pain, of loss, of utter desolation. "No!" she cried, a raw, anguished sound. She lunged forward, desperate to retrieve the precious symbol of her husband’s love, but Jem and another smuggler grabbed her arms, holding her fast despite her struggles. "Give it back, Eleanor! Please! I beg you, give it back to me!"

Eleanor merely looked at Suzy’s tear-streaked, bloodied face with cold disdain. "Look at yourself, Cassandra. So pathetic. You made me do this. If you had only been sensible, if you had only left him when I was being... polite about it, months ago." She pocketed the ring, a final, cruel victory.

She turned to the boss, her composure regained, her voice once again cold and commanding. "Is everything ready for departure?"

"Yes, My Lady," the boss confirmed, gesturing to his men, who were now hoisting bundles and crates. "We move immediately."

"Good," Eleanor said, casting one last contemptuous look at the sobbing, restrained woman. "Let’s leave."

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