My Bratty Wife
Chapter 244 - Two Hundred And Forty Four

Chapter 244: Chapter Two Hundred And Forty Four

The Blackwood estate grounds were bathed in the gentle warmth of a late spring afternoon. Sunlight, dappled by the fresh green leaves of oak tress, danced on the surface of the gently flowing River, its waters sparkling like scattered diamonds.

Under the sprawling, benevolent shade of one particularly magnificent oak, its branches reaching out like protective arms, Suzy had set up her picnic. A thick woolen blanket, patterned in cheerful checks, was spread upon the soft grass, laden with an exquisite assortment of foods – a small crock of sharp pickled cucumber nestled beside a bowl of sweet, sun-ripened strawberries, a wedge of tangy cheese alongside a pot of honeyed biscuits, and a flask of cool lemonade.

Pregnancy, she was discovering, had a most peculiar and demanding palate.

A book lay open in her lap, its pages undisturbed, as her gaze drifted over the tranquil river scene. She had tried to read, to lose herself in tales of bygone eras, but her mind refused to settle. Noah, her ever-stood a discreet few meters away, his silhouette a reassuring presence against the backdrop of wildflowers nodding in the gentle breeze. Ryan had insisted she get some fresh air this morning, to try and dispel the lingering shadows of the previous night’s terror. And while the beauty of the day was undeniable, a peaceful balm to the senses, the tendrils of her nightmare still clung stubbornly to her thoughts.

"Was it just a dream?" she murmured to herself, her fingers absently plucking at a loose thread on the blanket. The images remained so vivid, so real: the blood, Ryan’s lifeless form, Byron’s chilling smile.

"Or was it... a vision? A warning?" The question sent a shiver down her spine despite the warmth of the sun. And Elias, the librarian, why had he featured so prominently, his death so brutal at her own hand within the dream’s terrible logic?

"What connections could Elias possibly have with me, with my fate, to appear in such a way?" Then there was Byron, who has always been a lovable sweet soul , but in the dream, he had been the architect of her ultimate despair, the one who had stolen Ryan from her. "Why Byron? Why would he kill Ryan?" So many unanswered questions, each one a heavy stone, and the more she pondered them, the more her head ached with a dull, persistent throb.

"What does it all mean?" she whispered to the uncaring river.

Just then, the peaceful quiet was broken by the distinct sound of footsteps approaching – the sharp snap of a twig, the rustle of dry leaves underfoot. She turned, expecting to see Noah perhaps shifting his position, but he was gone. In his place, walking towards her with that familiar, confident stride, was Ryan.

"He must have sent Noah away," she thought, a small smile touching her lips. Ryan often did that when he wanted a few precious moments alone with her, away from the watchful eyes of others.

He reached the edge of the blanket, his presence immediately dispelling some of the lingering shadows in her mind. He bent down, his eyes soft with affection, and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead.

"May I join you, Your Grace?" he asked, his tone light.

She patted the space beside her. He settled down, stretching out his long legs, seeming to instantly belong in the blissful scene.

"I thought you would be engrossed in ducal matters all morning," Suzy said, her voice still a little subdued from her troubling thoughts.

Ryan took her hand, his thumb stroking her knuckles. "I wanted to check up on you," he replied, his gaze searching hers with concern. "And besides that, I managed to dispatch my morning’s correspondence rather more efficiently than usual. The thought of my beautiful wife picnicking by the river was a powerful motivator." He leaned over and pressed a soft, reverent kiss to her gently swelling belly, his hand resting there for a moment. "And how are the two of you fairing on this lovely afternoon?" he asked, his voice filled with a tender warmth.

A genuine smile finally broke through her earlier worries. "We are good, Ryan," she answered, though the lie felt a little thin even to her own ears. She shifted, lying down so her head rested comfortably in his lap, the familiar strength of him a profound comfort. He took off her wide-brimmed straw hat, setting it aside, and his fingers began to gently stroke her hair, a soothing, rhythmic gesture that always managed to calm her.

"You were so very afraid last night, Cassandra," he said softly after a few minutes of comfortable silence, his voice a low rumble she felt as much as heard. "You cried out in your sleep before you woke and cried so much it took you back to sleep. What happened? What nightmare plagued you so?"

She sighed, the memory still vivid, still painful. "I... I had a nightmare," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "A terrible one. You... you died in it, Ryan. And Byron... he was there."

Ryan’s hand stilled in her hair for a moment. He looked down at her, his expression gentle but serious. "Oh, my love," he murmured, his fingers resuming their soothing caress. "You don’t ever have to be afraid of such things, not truly."

He leaned down, his lips brushing her temple. "Only you, Cassandra, only you hold the power to truly take my life, for my heart, my very existence, is so utterly entwined with yours. No one else, certainly not in some fleeting shadow of the night, could ever truly take me from you." His words, though dramatic, were delivered with such profound sincerity, such deep love, that they wrapped around her like a warm, protective cloak. "So don’t you worry your pretty head about such dark dreams, okay? I am here. And I am not going anywhere."

Suzy smiled, a genuine, tremulous smile this time, the knot of fear in her chest loosening just a little. She nodded, her eyes closing as she savored his touch, his nearness, his reassurance.

They stayed like that for a long while, nestled together under the oak tree, the river murmuring its gentle song nearby, the only sounds the chirping of birds and the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze. It was a pocket of peace, a stolen moment of tranquility in a world that often felt fraught with danger and uncertainty.

The peace was eventually broken by the sound of hurried footsteps and a familiar voice calling out. "Your Grace! Your Grace! I’ve been looking for you all over the grounds!"

Ryan gently lifted Suzy’s head from his lap, helping her to a sitting position as Davis, his aide, approached, looking slightly flustered and out of breath.

"What is it, Davis?" Ryan asked, his tone calm, though a flicker of alertness entered his eyes. News that required Davis to search for him with such urgency was rarely trivial.

Suzy too, resumed her sitting position, her earlier languor replaced by a quiet attentiveness, waiting to receive the news alongside her husband.

Davis reached them, bowing quickly. He caught his breath before speaking, his words tumbling out with a mixture of excitement and gravity. "Your Grace... it is Commander Thorne. He has arrived. Commander Thorne is in Carleton."