My Bratty Wife
Chapter 240 - Two Hundred And Forty

Chapter 240: Chapter Two Hundred And Forty

Two weeks had passed since the harrowing night at Aldridge Port. Two weeks in which Carleton had become a cocoon of safety and quiet recuperation for Suzy. The physical bruises from her ordeal had faded away, but there was something else: the new reality of her pregnancy. Suzy, as she still often thought of herself in these bewildering times, was indeed feeling better, stronger, but life had undeniably changed.

Her appetite, for instance, had become a fickle. One morning, the mere aroma of Mrs. Madelyn’s usually beloved honey-glazed chicken would send her fleeing the dining room, only for her to crave pickled onions and sweet biscuits an hour later.

Ryan had poor Mrs. Madelyn in a perpetual state of kitchen distress, trying to anticipate his Duchess’s fleeting fancies. "Perhaps a little poached salmon, Mrs. Madelyn?" he’d suggest anxiously if Suzy pushed her plate away. "Or some stewed pears? Her Grace seemed to enjoy pears yesterday."

Then there were the moods. Oh, the moods. One minute she would be burning with rage at Ryan for some imagined slight

"You’re leaving my side to attend to paperwork when you know I feel stressed?"

Her voice rising with an anger that surprised even herself. The next, seeing the bewildered hurt in his eyes, she would dissolve into a puddle of tears, sobbing apologies into his waistcoat, wailing about her own terrible temper. And sometimes, a wave of pure, unadulterated happiness would wash over her for no discernible reason, leaving her humming contentedly as she arranged flowers, only to be followed an hour later by a profound sense of disgust at the very same blooms.

Clinginess was another new companion. She found herself needing Ryan near, his presence a tangible comfort against the lingering shadows of her fear. And boredom! The castle librarian, Elias, had taken ill some weeks prior, and the replacement had yet to arrive. None of the books Irene brought her from the shelves seemed to hold her interest; her former passions for history and poetry now felt bland and unappealing.

Ryan, through it all, was patient and attentive. He consulted Mrs. Madelyn about every nuance of Suzy’s diet, fretted over the temperature of their room, and ensured her days were as peaceful and stress-free as humanly possible, trying with every fibre of his being to see her well taken care of, his heart still aching with the memory of her suffering.

Today, Dr. Abernathy had just completed his bi-weekly check-up. He smiled, his kind eyes crinkling at the corners as he finished listening to her heartbeat. "Well, Your Grace," he announced, his voice reassuring, "everything is progressing splendidly. You are healing well from your... unfortunate experience, and the child is doing just fine. A strong little heartbeat."

Suzy felt a familiar warmth spread through her at the confirmation. The baby. Their baby. It was still a miracle she was struggling to fully comprehend. She nodded, but a question, one that had been bugging her mind for days, making her cheeks flush every time it surfaced, finally bubbled up.

"Dr. Abernathy?" she began, her voice a little hesitant.

He replied with his customary gentle politeness, "Yes, Your Grace? Is there something troubling you?"

She could feel the heat rising in her face, turning it a rather unbecoming shade of red. She fiddled with a loose thread on the silken bedcover. "It’s... well, it’s a rather delicate matter, Doctor," she stammered, avoiding his gaze. "But... will it... will it affect the child if... if my husband... if Ryan... well, if he beds me?"

Dr. Abernathy’s kind smile widened, a hint of amusement in his eyes. He had delivered countless babies and counseled countless expectant mothers among the nobility; little surprised him. "Ah," he said, his tone understanding. "A most natural concern, Your Grace. But you may set your mind at ease. No, it will not affect the child. Provided His Grace is gentle, and you are both comfortable, you two can still enjoy your... marital affections. Lovemaking is quite safe for most of a healthy pregnancy."

A wave of immense relief washed over Suzy. She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding and finally met his gaze, a grateful smile blooming on her face. "Oh. Oh, thank you, Doctor. That is... most reassuring to hear."

Since the news of her pregnancy, Ryan, in his overwhelming desire to protect her and the baby, had been meticulously careful, almost dutifully distant when it came to physical intimacy. He had held her, cuddled her, kissed her with deep affection, but had refrained from anything more, clearly afraid he might inadvertently cause harm. Now she knew. Now she could perhaps gently guide him back to the closeness they had both cherished.

"My primary advice, Your Grace," Dr. Abernathy continued, packing his bag, "is to eat well, ensure you get plenty of restful sleep, and take gentle walks in the gardens when you feel up to it. I shall call again in two weeks for another check-up. However, if you feel out of the ordinary in any way, or suspect something unusual, please do not hesitate to send for me immediately."

Suzy nodded earnestly. "I will, Doctor. Thank you again." Irene, who had been waiting discreetly by the door, curtsied and escorted the physician out.

As the door clicked shut, a glint appeared in Suzy’s eyes. Now that she had the doctor’s confirmation, it was definitely time to put her plans into action. Ryan needed to know he wasn’t going to break her, or the baby.

——————————-

Ryan was scribbling on a stack of ledger. Davis stood before his large oak desk, a sheaf of notes in his hand.

"Did you find anything conclusive from the examination of Evan’s body, Davis?" Ryan asked, his voice clear and sharp, cutting through the quiet of the study. "Anything that definitively links his death to the methods of the murderer we’re hunting?"

"Yes, Your Grace," Davis replied, his tone grave. "The findings from the King’s own physician confirm your suspicions. Lord Evan was indeed poisoned, a rather complex compound that induces symptoms easily mistaken for a sudden, violent seizure if not closely examined. And as for his man, Brook... his body showed clear signs he was extensively tortured before he died. It appears he was killed, quite brutally."

Ryan’s jaw tightened. Poison for the master, torture for the man. It painted a chilling picture of ruthlessness and careful planning. He stopped his scribbling and looked at Davis. "Thorne’s revelation, when he returns, will undoubtedly be the key to unlocking this entire mystery. He must have uncovered something truly significant to have been hunted so fiercely." He paused, tapping a finger against his lips in thought. "So, before he arrives, we must continue to lay down our own network of clues, gather every scrap of information. When he does present his findings, we can morph our intelligence together into a single, undeniable piece of evidence. We need to be ready to strike, to bring swift justice."

Davis nodded in agreement. "Commander Thorne’s safety upon his return must be our paramount concern, Your Grace. His message was most explicit about the danger he perceives."

"Indeed," Ryan said. "We will ensure it." He then gestured towards a stack of ledgers.

"Now, Davis, could you bring me the quarterly estate reports from the south farmlands? I need to review them before luncheon."

As Davis turned and opened the study door, he paused, a slight look of surprise on his face. "Forgive me, Your Grace," he said, stepping back slightly.

Suzy stood in the doorway, one hand poised as if she had been about to knock. She smiled faintly at Davis. "It’s quite alright, Davis."

Davis bowed to her and then to Ryan, and discreetly left to fetch the requested documents.

Ryan immediately stood up from his heavy oak chair, his earlier stern expression softening instantly into one of concern as he moved to assist her. "Cassandra, my love, you should be resting. Is everything alright?"

She brought up a finger and waved it at him with a serious flick of her wrist. "No, no, no, no, no," she said, a teasing smile dancing in her eyes, though her voice was firm. "I am not a delicate piece of porcelain, nor am I an invalid. I am merely pregnant. I can still move around on my own, thank you very much. My stomach hasn’t even begun to protrude noticeably yet!"

A warm smile spread across Ryan’s face at her spirited declaration. He loved this fire in her. "My apologies, Your Grace," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice as he made a mock bow. He returned to his seat, though his eyes followed her every move.

Suzy, however, didn’t take one of the comfortable visitor’s chairs. Instead, she walked around the desk and stood directly by his side, her hand resting lightly on his shoulder. Her proximity, her deliberate closeness after her earlier assertion of independence, made him look up at her, a question in his eyes.

"Are you alright, Cassandra?" he asked again, his voice softer this time, laced with a sudden, indefinable worry. "Is everything truly fine? You seem... fixed."